Open Arms

Chapter Twenty Seven

"If I had thought to call an ambulance..." Angus paced the floor, his hands sweating. "If I hadn't gone out that night, if I hadn't...she might have gotten there a little fuckin' sooner."

"Ang, she's listenin'," Malcolm said gesturing to the bundle on his wife's lap. The little girl seemed entirely too interested in her stuffed bear to pay her uncle any attention. 

"Sorry," Angus mumbled. He put his hand to his eyes. One had some swelling slightly reduced, both sat on top exhausted rings. He took a seat on the recliner in the corner and stared at the hideous brown fabric. 

Malcolm took several drinks from the water in his glass, his hand tapping his jeans endlessly. Linda got it for him right as he stood up for the kitchen a half hour before. After finding him last night huddled against the wall of their bedroom refusing to answer her questions, she'd been on top of his beverage selection. Cara reached for it with two thirsty hands and Malcolm gently tipped the glass to her mouth. Water dribbled down her chin and she babbled in delight. 

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Angus," Linda said wiping her daughter's chin. The doorbell rang and Malcolm wasted no time answering it. "You did what you could, didn't you?"

"Lotta fuckin' good that did..."

"You listen to me, Angus Young." He raised his head at her stern voice. Her eyes stared right into his soul. "You listen to me right now. You love that girl, you love her enough that you got her to a hospital in the middle of the night even if it meant you taking her yourself. And while you're injured."

"Yeah, but--"

"You love her enough that you offered her your home to escape domestic abuse even when you could barely afford to live there."

"Yeah but--"

"No, Angus, there are no if's, and's, or but's about it." The man shifted in the recliner, looking at his hands to avoid Linda's piercing gaze. His callouses were starting to heal. "You did your damn best giving this girl all the love in your heart and I'm sick to death of hearing you give yourself hell for not being enough. You listen to me, Angus. Look at me."

He looked at her.

"You are enough. Okay? You. Are. Enough." 

"Cliff's on his way to the hospital now," Phil said as he entered the living room. Malcolm trailed right behind him, chugging his glass of water. "He wanted to be there early today so visiting hours wouldn't be a problem. You doin' okay, Angus?"

Angus had hidden his face in his hands. Hunched over with nerves, fighting back tears. The best he could do in response was shrug. 

"You wanna get goin' now? No point waitin' around for our beards to grow, yeah?" Malcolm ran to the car as if a fire were lit under him, leaving his glass on the table in the entryway. Cara began to cry a little and Linda stood up with a sigh. 

"Angus, who are you riding with?" she asked picking up Cara's blanket from the couch. "You can come with us or go with Phil if you want."

Loving his niece with all his heart, he knew her crying would only stress him out even more, and his blood pressure couldn't afford that. "Phil, I guess."

"Alright, I'll tell Malcolm. You boys take care on the way, alright?"

Phil waved her out and turned to the man slouching in the chair. His hair was a wreck as if he slept upside down. He pulled his shirt from wherever he had stuffed it the night before and no earthly iron could mend it. Phil could have laughed if the reason behind it all wasn't so grim. He took a seat on the couch where Linda had been. Keeping his voice low, he spoke. "Do you think she's feelin' better at all?"