Chapter Eighteen
Evie
Dawson: I’m here. My mom’s going to be OK.
I stared at Dawson’s text, smiling slowly. He wasn’t too wordy when he texted. Funny as he was, his humor didn’t usually come across via text. He was typically straight and to the point.
Me: I’m so glad. Give her my best. When will she be out of the hospital?
Dawson: Probably tomorrow morning. Just a scare. They want to keep her for the night to monitor her and make sure she’s stable. Her doctor made some adjustments to her medications.
I wanted to ask how long he planned to stay, but that felt selfish. I opted for two emoticons—a smile and a thankful symbol.
Dawson: I should be back the day after tomorrow. My brother’s got something going on with the house sale. Might as well stay so I can sign whatever he needs me to
