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“Yeah, no, I get it.” They walked through the hospital’s sliding doors. “But in a month, he’ll be thanking me. Probably earlier. It was the best result for everyone. Not the way it happened, obviously.”

Talia didn’t feel particularly sad, which was a weird thing to say after two years with someone, but her heart was never fully in it, she realized now. Had it ever been, in any relationship? Talia was a serial monogamist, starting the summer after her mom died, when a guy she met at Columbia invited her to spend June and July trotting the globe. New Zealand and Mallorca and his family’s cabin in Maine.Why not?Talia had thought. Better than thinking about how she wasn’t at the Ranch.

The travel was fun but not life-changing, yet they stayed together for eighteen months. Her next relationship wasn’t any shorter or deeper, and this pattern repeated. Boyfriend after boyfriend, Talia always held back, as though she feared giving her all but not getting enough in return.

They walked into the waiting room, where Gabby was chatting up a nurse. “What about you?” Talia asked Ozzie. “Are you nervous to see him at all?”

“Nah. It’s Dad. He’s just a person, like the rest of us.”

Talia snorted. “So casual. So chill. Explains why you’re the favorite.”

Ozzie looked at her. “Literally the first time anyone’s ever said that.”

“Because no one has to say it out loud. It’d be like pointing out, hey, there’s oxygen in this room.”

“I’m oxygen.” He bobbed his head. “Nice.”

“The worst part is, you come by it naturally. You don’t even have to try.” Talia flashed a grin. “And you’re lucky I don’t hate you for it.” Not anymore.

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Gabby

“Remind me,” Ozzie said as we approached Dad’s door. “Are we mad? Or are we saving our big feelings for later?”

“I’m not in a position to be mad at anyone,” I pointed out.

Ozzie shrugged. “Personally? I’d rather have a dinosaur-induced heart attack than contract norovirus in a packed convention center.”

“Here’s an idea,” Talia said. “Maybe we should try being... normal?”

Ozzie snorted. “Yeah. Good luck with that.”

“And please, no one pressure Dad about the race. For those of us leaving the campaign...” She locked her eyes on mine. “Let’s keep that info for later.” Talia whipped back around and threw open the door to reveal Dad, propped up in bed, readingThe Wall Street Journal.Old habits died hard.

“Nice crib,” Ozzie said, sauntering in. “The decor is fire. Did you notice the nurses’ stations are shaped like surfboards?”

Dad smiled in a tired, half-drunk way. “It’s so good to see you all,” he said. His voice was raspy and thin.

“How do you feel?” Talia said, pulling a chair up beside his bed. “You look fantastic!”

Fantastic was a stretch, but he didn’t look terrible, especially for someone who’d undergone open-heart surgery. His skin was a little gray—not yellow, at least—and his hair was moresalt than pepper, wavy and unkempt without the gel holding it in place.

“Bullshit,” he said. “So. Who’s going to explain the bird?”

“It was a flare,” I said, stepping in front of my brother.

“Wow,” Ozzie said. “Get it.”

“You’re welcome to speak to my doctor if you want reassurance that it’s not migration or whatever,” I added. The fact dos Santos worked for the zoo would not likely help my case, but he was all I had. “Also. Fun fact. The only ‘expert’ in the field thinks PBS is triggered when the person who has it suppresses important things.”

PBS. I couldn’t recall ever speaking those letters to Dad. When I was first diagnosed, Diane delivered the news while I sat beside her, mortified, picking at the hole in my jeans. To his credit, this time he didn’t even flinch.

“Suppressing things seems to be a pattern around here.” I took a step closer. “Seriously, Dad. What the hell? How could you keep a potentially fatal heart condition from us?”

“It’s my health, not yours. And I didn’t think you needed to know...”

“I appreciate your hesitancy,” I said evenly, I hoped. “But, like, as a family, we have experience hiding medical stuff? And it hasn’t really worked before?”