IN ALL MY years of teaching, I’d never used any of the vacation time I’d accumulated, and I’d only used a handful of my sick days over that same span. Since my gastric bypass was an elective procedure, I’d been able to schedule it over my summer vacation. I did my best to schedule all of my follow-up appointments on days that school was out or after school hours so that I wouldn’t have to miss any more time with my students than was absolutely necessary. Because of my stinginess with taking time off, I had a lot of paid leave waiting to be used, and I had a good excuse in my arsenal for getting the time off approved.
Before I could think better of it, I’d arranged for a neighbor to take care of Neville and Luna for a while and I was on a flight to the East Coast without a clue as to what I’d do with myself once I arrived. But once Blake had said he needed me, it hadn’t even crossed my mind to stay home.
This was the first time I’d flown anywhere since my weight loss. I wasn’t prepared for the elation at being able to fasten the safety belt without requiring an extender; it was nice to forgo the uncomfortable process of requesting one from the flight attendants.
I spent the majority of the flight working on marking papers and lesson planning, because I didn’t know how much time I’d be able to devote to work once I arrived in New York. My inclination was that once I arrived, I would devote as many of my waking hours as possible to keeping Blake calm and helping him with caring for his grandma as well as I could. Any work I could do on the plane would quite possibly be the only work I’d get done until I returned to Portland.
I barely noticed the passage of time on the flight because I was so consumed by my work, and before I knew it, we were landing.
Blake was waiting by the baggage carousel, looking haggard and exhausted. I headed straight for him, letting go of my grip on my carry-on suitcase as I reached for him.
He wrapped me up in his arms and lifted me off my feet in his enthusiasm to see me—which was a first for me. Or at least the first time any man had lifted me off my feet since I was a little girl. I’d been too large—and too self-conscious—to allow any man to do anything of the sort for a very long time.
I felt guilty over the thrill I experienced at the sensation, because this wasn’t supposed to be about me at all. I was here to comfort him. Nothing more than that. But the thrill was there, nonetheless, washing over me and leaving me breathless and tingling in all sorts of uncomfortable and private places.
He buried his face against my neck, holding me tight around the waist, and kept the length of my body pressed alongside him so that I couldn’t help but feel all his muscles, his strength. It was a sharp contrast to my soft rolls and bulges. For a moment, self-consciousness threatened to overwhelm me. But then he let out a choking sound that had to be a stifled sob, and I forgot all about myself.
“Hey,” I said, my voice dry and husky after the flight. I loosened my grip on his shoulders, wrapping my arms fully around his neck in an effort to soothe him. “It’ll be okay. You’re going to be okay.”
“I’m not. Not if I lose her.”
“You will. Because you won’t ever lose her if you remember everything she taught you and all the ways she’s loved you. But you’ve still got her now, anyway.”
“I do. For now. But it won’t be for much longer.”
“The doctors don’t think there’s any hope?”
He finally released his grip on me. Instantly, I felt the loss of his arms and his presence. It seeped through my body and left me feeling as heavy as I’d been years ago as I settled back on my own feet.
“She’s got months. Maybe only weeks. Hard to say for sure, but it’s not enough time no matter how long it is.”
I nodded, at a loss. There were no words appropriate for a time like this. “We should get you back to the hospital, then. You should be with her as much as you can.”
He nodded, hugging me tight again, the scratch of stubble thick against my neck. This time, he didn’t release me for long moments. When he finally did, he picked up my carryon bag and took my hand firmly in his, and he led me out to a waiting cab.
BLAKE’S GRANDMOTHER WAS asleep when we arrived at the hospital, so we opted not to wake her. Blake took up a chair next to her bed, so he could be right by her side if she woke and needed anything; I took out some work and sat next to the window, giving them as much privacy as I could while still sneaking the occasional surreptitious glance to catch him holding her hand even as they both dozed. Needless to say, my efforts at working weren’t going very well. I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t focus on anything other than Blake and the way he worried over his grandmother.
This was a side of him I’d never seen before. She brought out a sweetness in him that was lacking in most areas of his life—or at least in those that I’d seen. The only experience I’d had with him that came close was when he’d been with my students, but even that was on a much different playing field than this.
Watching them this way made my heart ache for him. It was obvious that she was the best thing he had going in his life. Yes, he had a dream job and all the money he could ever need, but work and money weren’t terribly important when it came down to the nitty gritty. If anyone knew that, it was me. I loved my job. I adored my kids. But that wasn’t enough to fulfill the deepest longings in my heart.
Family, friends—love. Those were the big things. The ones that mattered.
Blake’s grandmother was his heart. And he was about to lose her.
After a while, the soft hum of his snoring joined the beeping and whirring machines as the only sounds in the room. He was bent over the side of her bed, resting his head on his folded arms, much as some of my students would do during nap time. It looked uncomfortable, but I didn’t have the heart to wake him and encourage him to move.
With any luck, he wouldn’t have too many aches and pains later. Something told me the ache in his heart would be a thousand times worse than any crick in his neck, anyway, and he needed these moments to be close to her regardless of the personal cost to himself.
But when I glanced back up at his grandmother’s face, I found dark eyes—his eyes in her face—blinking at me. She lifted one hand to her mouth and held a single finger to her lips, saying, “Shh,” and then pointing down at her sleeping grandson.
I nodded, a smile coming unbidden to my own face. That was such a motherly move. Maybe he hadn’t come from her womb, and maybe she was technically his grandmother, but in all the important ways, she was his mother. Their bond was as plain as day.
“He hasn’t slept in two days,” she said softly. “Don’t want to wake him just yet.”
“He’s been too worried about you.”
“You’re Bea? You’re the non-groupie?”
“Non-groupie?” I spluttered, trying to keep my amusement down since he was still sleeping.
“He said you’re the real deal, not a puck bunny or something.”
“I don’t even know what a puck bunny is.”
“Then you probably aren’t one. That’s good. He needs someone stable in his life. You’re stable? You’ve got a good job, a family, that sort of thing?”
“I’m a teacher—”
“Then you know all about hard work,” she cut in.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m not a ma’am. That makes me feel old. I don’t like feeling old.”
I stifled a laugh because I didn’t want risk her wrath if I accidentally woke Blake. “Then what should I call you?”
“Lil is fine. Or Lillian if you want to be formal, but I don’t go in for formal. Not enough time for that shit.”
“All right, Lil it is.”
We’d only known one another for a few minutes, but I could already see so much of her in Blake. She’d obviously played a huge role in shaping him into the man he was.
“He tell you much about his parents?”
I shook my head. “Only that you raised him.”
“They’re in prison. Drug stuff. His mother was using while she was pregnant with him. When the authorities came in to arrest them, they found Blake crawling around with the stuff all over the floor. He had to go through detox when he was just a baby. It’s why he is the way he is.”
“But you’ve loved him anyway.”
“Course I do. He’s my grandson. It’s not his fault he was born to parents who were addicts. I love his mother, too, even though she doesn’t recognize it. She thinks love is letting her do all the shit she wants to do, even if it kills her. But I loved her better by forcing her to get clean through sending her to prison. They never see things that way, though. It’s one of the symptoms of the disease. Addiction,” she added, in case I hadn’t followed. Then she narrowed her eyes at me, and for a moment I thought she was about to nod off and sleep again. But finally, she spoke again. “You think you can love him? You think you can see through the surface shit he does and understand who he is underneath it all?”
I blinked back my surprise at her frankness. But I had to admit, her direct path to the heart of the matter, and her honesty, were refreshing. “I have my own issues I’m trying to sort through,” I admitted, because she deserved nothing less than the full truth.
“Everyone’s got crap to deal with. Means you’re human.”
“True,” I said with a grin.
“And?”
“But I think we’re working on becoming…something.”
“Something,” she repeated with an arched brow that turned her statement into a question.
“I don’t know what we’re doing. I don’t know what I want it to be. It’s all new for me.”
“You haven’t ever been married before?”
I shook my head. “Never even dated anyone, to be honest. Not until Blake.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was always fat before and I didn’t think anyone could love me that way,” I found myself saying, without any understanding of why I would say these things to a complete stranger. But the truth was she was dying. If ever there was someone to whom it would be safe to spill my guts, it would be her.
“Didn’t think you deserved it?” she demanded.
I shook my head, hot tears springing to my eyes. “I didn’t even love myself, so how could anyone else love me?”
“They couldn’t. You wouldn’t let them.”
“I suppose I wouldn’t.”
“But do you love yourself now?”
“I’m trying to.”
“He’ll love you to pieces if you’ll let him,” she said. “He hasn’t had many people to love in his life, and even fewer have taken the time and effort required to see past the surface. But when he loves someone, it’s full tilt. He can’t turn it off. He’ll give it everything he has and more than he should sometimes, forgetting to take care of himself in the process. If he’s going to love you like that, you’d better be ready to believe you deserve it. Because I won’t be around much longer. He’s going to devote it all to someone else soon. And he wants that someone to be you. Do you think he’s made a good choice?”
“I’m not sure. I hope so.”
“Hmph. Why the hell did you come here if you weren’t already all in? Maybe you don’t realize it yet. Maybe you just need a nudge. And maybe this is your nudge.”
Maybe indeed.
I WOKE WITH a start, then wished I hadn’t jerked myself awake because I had a crick in my neck and the sudden movement made it hurt like hell.
I moaned, but then I wished I hadn’t, because it seemed to disturb Grandma’s sleep. She twitched, and her eyes started moving fast behind her closed eyelids.
“She finally nodded off again about ten minutes ago,” Bea said quietly. “The nurse came in and gave her some more meds through the IV.”
“You should’ve woke me up.”
“She wanted you to sleep. She said it’s almost the only sleep you’ve had in days.”
“I don’t need to sleep.”
“You do if you’re going to be any good for her.”
She had a point, but I didn’t want to concede it. I glowered over at her.
“When’s the last time you had anything to eat?” she asked.
I shrugged, but my stomach growled.
“That’s what I thought. Come on.” She stood up and set her work on the chair she’d been sitting in, and then she held out a hand for me. “You’ve got to take care of yourself or you won’t be able to support her.”
“I don’t know how to take care of myself. That’s her job.”
“You’ve been taking care of yourself for as long as you’ve been in the NHL. She already taught you everything she can teach you. Now it’s time for you to use all the things you’ve learned from her.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Life doesn’t ask you what you want or what you think you can handle. Life just throws a bunch of things at us and we have to find a way to dodge the worst of the blows and to survive the ones we can’t avoid.” Bea reached down and grabbed my hand since I still hadn’t taken hers, and she tugged me to my feet with a surprising amount of strength. “You’ve got to eat. You won’t be any good to her if you don’t take care of yourself.”
Begrudgingly, I found myself walking beside her through the halls of the hospital. It was a good thing she was paying attention to where she was going, because I sure as hell wasn’t. Within a few minutes, she led me into the cafeteria and took me straight to the salad bar. When I didn’t immediately start building a salad, she placed a plate in my hands and gave me a pointed look before picking up another one for herself and piling it high with fresh spinach, ham, and chopped egg.
I wasn’t capable of deciding what I wanted to eat just now, so I copied what she was doing, filling my own plate with the same things she’d selected. Once we’d added salad dressing and grabbed bottles of water from a fridge case, she took me to the counter so we could pay for our meals.
She started to reach into her purse, but I managed to regain my focus just in time to dig my wallet out of my pocket and press a credit card into the cashier’s hands.
“I’ll pay for your flights, too,” I said when she shot a questioning look up at me. “And hotel. You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t a basket case.”
“You’re not a basket case.”
“Close enough. But either way, I’m paying.”
She nodded as the cashier finished ringing up our purchases. Then we carried them to a table and sat down to eat.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
“Thank you,” I said. “I can’t go through this alone.”
“You don’t have to. You’re not alone, Blake.”
“I know. I just…” I shrugged because the words got stuck in my throat and refused to move either up or down. They just lodged themselves there.
“You feel alone. You feel like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders and you don’t know how you’re going to manage it.”
I nodded, staring at my salad even though I couldn’t take a bite.
“You’re not alone. I’m here with you. And you’ve got your team to help out, too.” She reached across the table and took my hand, squeezing it. “You’re not alone,” she repeated.
Maybe if she said it enough times, the words would sink in. Maybe I’d start to believe them. Doubtful, but it was worth hoping for.
“Should I get an Uber to take me to a hotel in a bit? I haven’t reserved a room yet since I just booked the flights and came straight out, but—”
“You don’t need to get a room,” I cut in.
“But…” She blinked at me.
“You can stay with me. Or I’ll pay for your room if you don’t want to do that,” I amended because I suddenly realized that was really presumptuous. “I mean, I’d like you to stay with me, but I understand if you—”
“I’ll stay with you,” she said.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know that. But I want to.”
“Good,” I said, but what I really meant was thank fuck because I didn’t know if I could get through another night on my own when I was so worried about Grandma. I really meant what I’d said in that call: I needed Bea. I needed her now, and I knew I’d still need her in my life later on—especially after Grandma died. And it wasn’t just because I was a fucking wreck and didn’t know how to take care of myself.
I needed Bea because I was falling in love with her, and there weren’t too fucking many people in my life I could say I loved.
There were even fewer who would say it in return. Probably just Grandma, to be honest. But considering Bea had dropped everything and jumped on a plane across the country to be with me, I had a bit of hope that maybe she could fall in love with me someday, too.
We didn’t talk much for the rest of our meal. Didn’t really need to. Usually, I’d be cracking jokes right and left, but I just didn’t have it in me right now. But Bea didn’t seem to mind. She just stayed by my side, solid as a rock, her presence keeping me calm when my mind was like a tempest.
When we returned to Grandma’s room a bit later, she was awake again—probably because they were taking her vitals, changing out her IV bag, and shooting her up with more medications.
“You two need to get the hell out of here,” she barked as soon as she saw me walk through the door to her room. “You look like death warmed over. Got a bit more color than you did earlier. I guess she fed you?”
“She did,” I admitted.
“Good. Then she’s got more sense than you. Now go sleep. That’s all I’m going to be doing anyway. At least I will be once they stop poking me.”
“I’d rather stay here with you,” I argued, but it was only a feeble attempt on my part. And it wasn’t entirely true. There was a very large part of me that wanted to spend every possible moment I could with Grandma. But there was another part of me that realized she was right, and I needed some rest in order to make the most of those moments I had with her.
“Do what you came here for, Bea,” Grandma said pointedly. “Take care of my boy.”
I shot a look in Bea’s direction. She shrugged it off. Apparently I wouldn’t be getting any answers from her.
But I was practically dead on my feet, and if I didn’t get some decent rest soon, I wouldn’t be any use to anyone. The meal had helped, but it had also forced me to recognize I was nearing the boundaries of my own limitations.
I bent over Grandma’s bed and kissed her on the cheek. “We’ll be back in the morning. Call me if you need anything.”
“I need that male nurse to come back. Can you arrange for that to happen? He needs to help me with my bed pan or something.”
Bea chuckled, and I couldn’t seem to stop myself from laughing, too. I narrowed my eyes at Grandma. “I’m being serious here.”
“So am I.”
“Mm hmm.” I straightened away from her bed, stretching my back. “I’m going to stop by the nurse’s station on our way out of here and tell them to keep him away from you because you’re going to sexually harass him and I don’t want to deal with a lawsuit.”
“You go right ahead and do that, Blakey. That might just get him to come see me more often.”
I grabbed the handle of Bea’s suitcase in one hand, took hold of her hand with my other, and led her out of Grandma’s hospital room, the sound of Grandma’s gleeful cackle following us all the way to the elevator bay.
“I like her,” Bea said softly once the elevator doors closed us in.
“I love her,” I replied, my voice cracking. “And she’s all I’ve got.”
“She’s not all you’ve got,” Bea said, reaching for my hand.
There was a part of me that hoped I could believe her.
But there was a bigger part of me that knew the truth: only Grandma had ever loved me before—no one else. I didn’t see that changing any time soon. It didn’t matter whether I loved Bea or not. That just wasn’t the way my life worked.