Eighteen
Turns out Sam had flown to Vancouver for the wedding and rented a car to get to Victoria, rather than drive his own car from Portland into Canada. Which means once we’re back in Victoria, we’re able to turn in his rental, take the ferry back to the mainland, and drive together to Portland in my car.
When he slips behind the wheel, I don’t protest. He insists I need to relax and breathe and be available to answer my phone should Lainie or Gabe call.
The subsequent six hours—more like just under five (even with the shitty Seattle traffic) as Sam risks hefty speeding fines by sailing down Interstate 5—are a blur. Gabe calls with news that Dad is out of surgery and stable, but he’s in the cardiovascular ICU and pretty groggy from the medication. The doctor said they did an angiopla
