Chapter Nine
Grace
I grew tired of watching him mope. Of watching him slowly debase himself into this sad sack of skin. The flowers were being delivered like I had scheduled, but he still wasn’t saying anything. The distance had gotten rough. He was locking his door so I couldn’t get in to help him and the only interaction we had was the drawing of his blood and physical therapy. He was cold. He was angry. And he was closed off.
“He still not coming out?” Emilia asked.
“I don’t know what to do anymore,” I said. “I’m hardly his nurse. I interact with him twice a day for maybe an hour, and then the rest of the time I can’t get to him.”
“Where do you want these flowers?” she asked.
“There’s a bouquet wilting in the kitchen. We can replace that one,” I said.
“So if he isn’t coming out to see the flowers, why are you still having them delivered?”
“Complaining about business? That’s not like you,” I said with a grin.
“I’m just saying. What’s your end goal here?”
“To get him on a proper mental health track.”
“But you aren’t doing that since you don’t see him.”
“I was hoping these flowers would bring him out of hiding,” I said.
“Can I give you some advice? Woman to woman?”
“Sure,” I said.
“You’re his nurse. His licensed physician. If he isn’t listening to you, he’s technically a danger to himself, right?”
“I guess. Technically he could be,” I said.
“So, if he’s a danger to himself and he’s not capable of residing in his own home, you could technically admit him to a hospital. Right?”
“I’m not admitting him anywhere, Emilia. He doesn’t need a straitjacket. He needs help.”
“I’m not telling you to admit him, Grace. All I’m telling you is to… you know… give him his options.”
“You mean hang the hospital over his head to get him out of his room,” I said. “That sounds like a dirty tactic. I don’t want to use something like that.”
“Well what’s he giving you? Besides heart attacks.”
I took the vase from Emilia’s hands and set it on the table near the window. She was right. I was technically his part of his physician team. And if he was doing something to himself I didn’t agree with, I had the capability of stepping in on his behalf and doing what was necessary. But I didn’t want to admit him to a hospital. I knew recuperating in his own home was the best choice for a man like him. Especially if he was developing some sort of phobia regarding people seeing him in his wheelchair.
I didn’t want to put him through anymore turmoil.
But I was desperate.
“So you think I should threaten him with admission to the hospital to get him to follow my guidelines,” I said.
“I think that if the man isn’t eating or bathing properly, then he’s a danger to himself as well as his recuperation. Which I know isn’t what you want,” Emilia said.
“When did you get so smart?”
“How long have you been questioning this fact?”
I smiled and embraced my friend. It had been wonderful, seeing her during all of her drop offs. Flowers were everywhere. They were in the kitchen and up against the windows of the living room. A couple of fresh vases were in Hayden’s room. I was able to sneak them in there while he had been bathing. His penthouse home smelled of delicious, decadent scents.
But they weren’t drawing him out of his room, or even making him easier to live with.
“It’s just a thought. You don’t have to do it. But remember, you have the final say here. Not him,” Emilia said.
“Thanks,” I said with a smile. “I’ll remember that.”
“And I’ll take these wilting flowers and go press them. Did you know there’s a market for that sort of thing?”
“I would’ve never dreamed,” I said with a grin.
“You knew, didn’t you?”
“Maybe a little bit.”
“I really do miss you and your ideas at the shop,” she said.
“And if things keep going as well as they are now with Mr. Lowell, I’ll be right back there after he’s recuperated.”
The two of us giggled as I escorted her to the door.
“Don’t let him take away something you love, Grace.”
“I won’t. He’s just being difficult and it’s wearing on me,” I said.
“I know you care about your patient. But sometimes, the only thing you can do is strong-arm them out of their stubbornness.”
“Thanks, Emilia. For everything.”
I hugged my friend one last time before I opened the door for her, then I relegated myself to the silence.
She had a point. If none of my tactics were working up until this point, then I had to try something new. But I didn’t have any other nice tactics to try. They were all steeped in aggression and based on empty threats. And there was a chance that if Hayden knew it was an empty threat, he still wouldn’t budge.
Which was why I had to stand my ground if he combated against me.
I wanted to make him coming out of his room worthwhile, however. There was no point in him coming out of it if he was simply going to roll over to the window and continue staring out at that one. I needed a reason for him to come out. I walked back into the kitchen and sat at the table, putting my head in my hands.
What would entice a man to come out of his room?
Then, it hit me.
“Mr. Lowell?”
I knocked on his door, but no sound emanated from behind it.
“Mr. Lowell. It’s me. Grace.”
I jiggled the doorknob to see if his door was open. And of course, it was locked.
“Mr. Lowell, this is getting ridiculous,” I said. “I need to get in there and check on you to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“I’m your nurse and I need to chart it with my own eyes,” I said.
“Then learn to take me at my word.”
I gritted my teeth as my forehead pressed into the firm wood.
“Mr. Lowell, you hired me to take care of you.”
“No, I hired you so my family would release me from that house and leave me alone.”
Wait. Was that true?
Furrowing my brow, I lifted my head from the door. Was Hayden being serious? Was that really the only reason why I was here? To be an excuse to get away from his bickering mother and sister? I felt tears rise to my eyes as my hand fell from the doorknob. I wasn’t even here to help him. I was here as a distraction. A fall girl, so Hayden could coop himself up and drown himself in his own self-pity.
I felt anger bubbling in my gut.
“Mr. Lowell-”
“Go away.”
“No, now you listen to me. You’ve been moping and depressed and being an all-around genuine asshole since I got here. And I can understand being angry at your predicament, but as your nurse I have full medical intervention. If I can’t survey you eating and if I can’t help you bathe, then I have to assume those practices are not taking place. Which means you’ll be admitted back into the hospital underneath my direct supervision.”
I heard the wheels of his chair squeak as I drew in a deep breath.
“If you don’t want to cooperate and let me do my job, I’ll have the hospital do it for me. And I’m sure your mother and sister would love to be at your side helping you every step of the way while you’re there.”
I could hear him drawing in a deep breath as I cleared my throat.
“Dinner is at six. You don’t have physical therapy today.”
Then I marched down the hallway and left him alone.
I went into the kitchen and started poking around at what to fix. I wanted a well-rounded meal that would give him a lot of the nutrition I knew he needed to be taking in. I pulled out two fresh slabs of salmon with the skin on the bottom as well as some fresh vegetables. A red pepper. A head of broccoli. Some carrots and parsnips. And a beet to give everything a bit of color.
Then, I grabbed a couple of sweet potatoes and got to work.
I cooked the salmon in a pan with a bit of oil, salt, and pepper. Squeezed a bit of lemon onto it in the end and made sure the skin was crispy on the bottom instead of limp. I chopped up and tossed the vegetables right behind the salmon and let them sit, then I got to work on the sweet potatoes. I peeled them and divided them up before I boiled them. I was going to whip them up with some butter, a bit of honey, and a dash of cinnamon.
I plated everything and looked at the clock, then drew in another deep breath.
It was five until six, and I wasn’t hearing the faintest sound of Hayden moving.
I had my phone pulled out and ready to go. I had to keep my word if he didn’t show up. I would need help getting a man like him out of his home and back into the hospital, and my heart ached that it had come to this. But it was the truth. I wasn’t sure how clean he was getting himself and I was having a hard time keeping tabs on the food that was going missing.
Which meant I wasn’t sure what he was really eating and when.
I walked the plates over to the kitchen table and sat them down. Flowers surrounded the table and it almost felt like I was eating outside. I went over to the juicer and grabbed the oranges, then ran them through the juicer until I had two very large freshly-pressed orange juices.
Two minutes until six, and not a sound was heard.
I went and got some silverware and a couple of napkins. I wasn’t giving up on him until my promise forced me to. I sat down with my phone at my side, my finger ready to press down to call the nearest hospital. I had already alerted them to the troubles I was having with Hayden, and they were on standby in case I had to call them.
And I sighed with relief when I heard his door open.
I clicked my phone closed and slid it into my pocket. I could hear his wheelchair rolling down the hallway and through the living room, and I watched as his shadow began to appear. First his head, then his body, then his wheels.
I watched him come around the corner before his icy stare landed onto the table.
I was sitting there, trying not to rejoice at the fact that he had come. My heart was slamming in my chest as he slowly rolled up to the breakfast nook. He was staring down at his plate, taking in the food in front of him before his eyes rose to the glass of orange juice.
Then, he began looking around at all the flowers.
“Smells good,” he said.
I smiled as I picked up my fork.
“I’m glad you think so,” I said.
“Why are there so many?”
“Figured I would bring the outside to you.”
“What makes you think I enjoy the outside?”
“Besides the fact that you stare at it more than your own reflection?” I asked.
I looked up at him and I watched his eyes soften. Those icy blue eyes allowed a warmth to pour over them. Like he had remembered something dear to his heart. I watched as he nodded slowly before he picked up his fork, then he took a stab at his vegetables.
“Still a bit crunchy,” he said.
“Don’t tell me you like soggy vegetables,” I said.
“Does anyone?”
“I’ve met a couple.”
“Did they happen to wear dentures?” he asked.
I grinned at his joke as I took a bite of the sweet potatoes. I hummed at their decadence. At the way they melted on the tip of my tongue.
I felt Hayden’s eyes on me and I swallowed the rest of my sounds. Along with the potatoes.
“Good?” he asked.
“Very,” I said.
“I’ll make a note to kiss the cook.”
I whipped my eyes over to him and saw a shadow of a grin playing upon his features.
“Technically, I should be the one kissing the cook if I’m the one that likes it so much.”
“I never said I didn’t like it.”
I watched him take a large bite of the sweet potatoes and he mocked my moan.
“Oh, so it’s going to be like that,” I said.
“Is there any other way to be?”
“Kind would be a nice start.”
The playful expression on his face fell before he took a forkful of his salmon.
“I’m not used to someone taking care of me.”
“Obviously,” I said.
“I’m not used to be threatened, either.”
“Well it got you here, so whatever works.”
“You could’ve asked nicely.”
“I’ve been doing that for days,” I said.
“No, you haven’t been asking. You’ve been assuming I would open up to you in time.”
“I shouldn’t have to assume you’d open up at all. I’m your nurse. Not your friend.”
“Yet here we sit, sharing a dinner like friends.”
“If you want, I can go eat in my room,” I said.
“Then how will you know I’m eating?” he asked with a grin.
I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes.
“You really are a pain in the ass,” I said.
“And you really are easy on the eyes.”
I fluttered them open and looked over at him as he took another bite of his vegetables. Was this his idea of a joke? Or was he actually trying to flirt with me?
No. Hayden was definitely joking.
He had to be.
Right?
“To answer your questions, I have been eating. And bathing.”
“Not the point,” I said.
“I figured it would ease your mind to know your tasks aren’t going unfulfilled.”
“And again, not the point,” I said.
“What is the point?”
“The point is I am your nurse. You’re paying me a great deal of money to stay here so I can help you with tasks like those. And you won’t let me. So here we are.”
“Looming a hospital over my head so I’ll come eat a dinner you laboriously prepared for me. Surrounded by flowers you're ordering with your own money.”
I eyed him carefully as I took another bite of food.
“You’re not paying for them with my money. So the only other source of money you have is yours. Now why would a nurse do something like that?” Hayden asked.
“To get you to stop feeling sorry for yourself,” I said flatly.
“Have you ever been trapped in one of these things? Reduced to nothing but a soggy vegetable unable to shower without leaning against a wall for support.”
“Could be better. You could be showering with me,” I said.
His eyes flashed with something dark as I reached for my orange juice.
“And yes, I have been in a wheelchair,” I said. “But I didn’t see it as being trapped.”
“What happened?”
“Do you care?”
“What if I told you I did?”
“I wouldn’t believe you,” I said.
“Then give me the chance to prove you wrong.”
“You first,” I said plainly.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he asked. “And to let you know, I might just take you up on that showering suggestion you offered earlier. After all, you are my nurse.”
My eyes connected back with his as I crossed my leg over my knee. I smirked and shook my head as I tried to suppress a giggle. Whatever got him out of that damn room was fine by me. He was joking around and opening up, which was exactly what I’d wanted.
But I couldn't deny the heat that slid up my back at the idea of seeing him wet.
“Why were you in a wheelchair?” Hayden asked.
“Track and field. Back in high school. I was a pole vaulter.”
“Wow. Impressive.”
“I know. It’s fascinating how women can actually do things,” I said.
“Not what I meant, but I enjoy your sarcasm.”
“Do you now?”
“It’s refreshing, yes.”
I watched him lean back into his wheelchair as he threaded his fingers together. His attention was wholly on me and I found myself growing nervous. I wasn’t expecting something like this. I wasn’t expecting us to actually speak. To talk the way we were talking.
It was… nice.
“I was in practice after school one day and I was working on breaking my own record. I moved the bar up half an inch and kept trying all day to get over it. And when I finally did, I was so proud of myself. But in my want to get over the bar, I didn’t take into account that another half inch of bar meant another foot of falling. I overcorrected, missed the pad, and came down wrong on my heels.”
“Ouch.”
“Very. Shattered both of them. It ended my track and field days and took months to recover from. Three surgeries, multiple pins and screws. Months of physical therapy. And I still can’t walk in heels or anything like that.”
“Trust me. With legs like yours, you don’t need them,” he said.
“I have no idea if that’s a compliment or a completely inappropriate comment.”
“The look on your face says ‘inappropriate’, but the blush in your cheeks says ‘compliment’.”
I brought my hands up to my face and felt how red my skin was. I turned my body back towards my food and reached for my orange juice. I had to calm down. I was enjoying this dinner a little too much and that wasn’t the point. I could see Hayden grinning out of the corner of my eye, and it sent a shiver down my spine.
What was he doing?
Was he trying to make me uncomfortable so I wouldn’t make him come out again for food?
Because it wasn’t quite working if that was his plan.
“Setting matters of your legs aside, however, it means you can understand why I don’t want to come out,” he said.
“No, it doesn’t. I didn’t allow that wheelchair to stop me. There was a handicapped sports league in my area I used to fill my time after school. It helped me with my anger towards the situation.”
“So you were angry.”
“Yes, but I didn’t let it swallow me,” I said.
“I’m not letting it swallow me.”
“Says the man who’d rather lock his door to the only person tolerating him instead of coming out and making decent conversation.”
“Tolerating? Is that what you’re doing?”
“Why would I be anything else?” I asked.
“Because this is not a dinner you cook for someone you tolerate.”
“Then what kind of dinner did I cook?”
Hayden leaned forward in his chair and brought his face closer to mine. He continued to scoot forward in his seat as I leaned heavily back into the breakfast nook. His blue eyes were captivating. I could see the storm raging behind them. His body heat was radiating against me and his grin was devious, and there was part of me that wanted to reach out for him. To cup his cheek and bring his pouty lower lip to mine.
I held my breath as I waited for his words.
“This is a dinner you cook for someone you enjoy.”
His voice was lower and his tone was gravelly. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. His eyes lowered to my heaving bosom, no doubt taking in how flushed my skin was. Then he lifted his head before he grabbed his plate and his drink.
“Where… are you going?” I asked.
He wheeled away from the table and started for the living room.
“Hayden?”
“I’m going to my room, Grace. And I promise I’ll be a good boy and eat.”
My name.
It sounded so good falling from his lips.