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you okay?” a man from across the room asked.
    I nodded and tried to offer him a smile, but I wasn’t sure it was overly convincing. Then I dialed Gray’s mom, Peggy’s, number. It rang and rang, then went to voice mail. I hung up, not knowing how to tell Peggy in a message to come to the hospital.
    Then I remembered she was on the cruise that Gray had given her as a birthday gift. She was out of the country and had warned us she’d be turning her phone off because she wasn’t wasting money on adding international minutes to her plan. But she’d promised to check her e-mail daily.
    I’d just read a post this morning. She talked about the island they’d stopped at and the ladies she’d befriended.
    I’d sat at my computer and realized how hurt Peggy would be to come back and find out Gray and I’d signed the divorce papers. For the last year, she’d lived her life believing we’d get back together. I’d dreaded telling her I wasn’t ever moving back to Willow Lane.
    But I dreaded telling her Gray was sick even more.
    I e-mailed her from my phone. I wrote, “ Call me as soon as you get this, please, ” in the header. I didn’t want her to be too scared, but I thought that was enough to get her attention. In the body of the e-mail I wrote, “ Gray’s sick and we’re at the hospital. He’s . . .” I couldn’t write that he could die, but I didn’t want to lie. “ He’s in surgery .”
    I hoped she wouldn’t call until after I’d heard something about Gray’s condition.
    That left JoAnn. I think I left her until last because I knew her first response would be to hurry to my side. It was a wonderful quality in a friend, but this time, I needed some time to figure things out on my own.
    I dialed her number and she picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Addie. Wills, what did I say about touching the knobs on the stove? No. I mean it. No. Or else . . .” She left the threat hanging and said, “How did Gray take it? Did he sign the papers?”
    Her muffled voice said, “Wills, you are testing my patience. One. Two.” She came back on. “Someday he’s going to realize that three is just another number and nothing’s going to happen if I get that far. So, back to you. Do you need me? I—”
    “JoAnn,” I said, interrupting her. “I’m at the hospital with Gray.”
    I could feel her still. All other thoughts faded as she focused on me with such intensity it was palpable over the phone. “What happened?”
    “I went in to give him the papers.” It felt like a lifetime ago that I’d marched into his office, intending to end our marriage. “He was on an important call and when he got off he told me he’d bought me ice cream and it was waiting for me. I’d been so sure this morning, but suddenly, I wasn’t. Before I could make up my mind what to do, or give him the papers . . .” I still wasn’t sure what I would have done.
    “Before I could do anything, he collapsed. It’s an aortic dissection.” There, I remembered the name of it. But what it meant for Gray was still hazy. “It’s some kind of tear in a vessel. They’re doing open-heart surgery.”
    “I’ll be right there,” JoAnn said.
    I could almost hear her starting to list what she needed to do. Find a sitter for the kids, then—
    I tried to cut her off before she’d mentally restructured her whole day. “No, Jo. I’m fine. Well, not fine, but there’s nothing to do but wait. I’ll be here until . . .” Until he made it or didn’t . I didn’t say that part. I didn’t want to talk about the chance that Gray might not make it.
    I knew that JoAnn needed something to do. In a crisis, she needed to be proactive.
    “Can you make sure there’s coverage at the store?” I asked.
    The advantage to running a small local store is we had a lot of hands-on opportunity with our clients. Our one-of-a-kind furniture, both floor models and special orders, had built up quite a following.
    The disadvantage to running a small