CHAPTER SEVEN

On Wednesday morning Hailey was up bright and early so she could get some more work done. After she’d completed several tasks, including filling out the monthly ledger for Colorado Subs, her cell phone began playing “Für Elise.”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, honey. How is everything?” Her mom sounded cheery.

“Good.” She closed some of the open windows on her computer.

“How is Harry?”

“He said a word yesterday.” The memory made her giddy all over again.

“That’s good.”

“Today we have another therapy appointment.” She refused to let any thoughts of Mr. Hunk—Stafford, that was his name—enter her mind.

“I’m so thankful you can be there to help.”

“I love spending time with them.” Hailey shut her laptop, then swung her legs up on the bed.

“How is June?” her mom asked with concern.

“Fine.” She sat back against the headboard of the bed. “Except I’d like to kill her.”

“Why?” Her mom sounded shocked.

“She had this guy come over for dinner and it was the worst.”

Her mom laughed. “Good ol’ June, always the matchmaker.”

“It was the most awkward dinner ever.” Visions of Roger grinning at her circled her head and she cringed. Setup dates were always, always awful. Especially if your grandmother was involved in any way.

“Have you heard from Kevin?”

The mere mention of his name made Hailey’s heart ache. “No. And I don’t expect to. We are done.”

“Maybe—”

“No, Mom. We’re done.” She didn’t want to discuss Kevin with her mom or anyone else. It was still too painful. Besides, her mom didn’t know all the gory details, and she didn’t need to.

“But—”

“Mom, I gotta go. Our appointment is soon and I need to get ready.”

“Okay. Keep me posted.”

They said their goodbyes, and Hailey tossed her phone on the bed. She didn’t want to think about Kevin. Or the hole he’d left in her heart. She didn’t want to remember the good times they’d had, because he’d ruined all of that with his lying. Hailey only wanted to move forward and get on with her life.

After finding a light, cotton-print dress and some sandals, she went to the kitchen to make some breakfast. Gran stood at the stove dressed in a bright green blouse and wearing mascara and red lipstick.

“You look nice today,” Hailey said.

“Thank you,” Gran said. “I’ll make you some eggs. And some toast with jam. And sausage.”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll eat some fruit.” If she kept letting Gran feed her, she’d gain a hundred pounds.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Is Gramps up and ready?”

“Yes. We’ve already had breakfast.” Gran grabbed a bowl of fruit from the refrigerator. “He ate all of his eggs and sausage.”

“I’m still trying to get used to the time change from Colorado. Two hours makes a big difference.” Hailey filled a glass with some orange juice.

“I have a hair appointment today. Could you drop me off and then take Harry to his therapy?” Gran handed Hailey a plate with strawberries, blueberries, and other fruit on it.

“Sure.” Hailey popped a couple of grapes into her mouth. “Don’t you want to come to the session?”

Gran ran her fingers through her hair. “I really need to get my hair done, and I haven’t had a chance since Harry had his stroke.”

Hailey studied her grandmother. His stroke had taken a toll on Gran, too. Gran had always been strong and a hard worker, but for a moment, she seemed so small and weak. “No problem. You should take some time for yourself. I can handle the appointment.”

***

During his lunch break, Peter sat at his desk and logged some notes from the previous patients. He checked his appointment schedule. Harry Baker was next. Without warning, a tremor shot through his stomach and his palms moistened.

He drew in a breath. This is ridiculous. I am a medical professional, not a fifteen-year-old boy.

Still, the thought of seeing Hailey again made his nerves tingle. What was it about this woman? Why was she having this effect on him? He hadn’t been this affected by a woman in years, and it was unsettling.

He rubbed his eyes. Feelings were fleeting—he knew that all too well from experience. He simply had to focus on the patient and compartmentalize whatever errant feelings he might have about this woman. He was a professional first and foremost, and he not only needed to act like one, he needed to think like one.

Peter rummaged through his lunch sack and turned his attention to eating while he read an article about a technique for treating apraxia of speech.

***

Hailey helped Gramps get out of the car. “I bet you’ll do some great things today.”

He nodded.

They slowly walked into the outpatient facility and waited for the appointment.

After ten minutes, they were called back to a small room with photos of the beach adorning the walls.

When the door opened, Mr. Stafford walked in wearing navy pants and a blue shirt. Hailey tried not to notice how the shirt accentuated his eyes or how the faint musky scent of his cologne tickled her nose. “Good to see you. How are you today?” He reached out his hand.

Gramps reciprocated.

“He said a word yesterday. Totally spontaneously,” Hailey said, using her hands to emphasize her enthusiasm.

The therapist eyed her and the corners of his mouth lifted. “Wonderful.” He turned to Gramps and nodded. “Certain words may come back like that. Are you ready to do some work today, Mr. Baker?”

Gramps said a few unintelligible words.

Hailey interpreted what he meant and said, “He wants you to call him Harry.”

“Okay, Harry. Call me Peter.” He smiled and Hailey noticed how it seemed to sparkle. What is wrong with you? Stop checking him out.

Peter pulled out some cards. “We’re going to work on some basic sounds and try to rewire the pathway between your brain and your mouth. Kind of like retraining your muscles to say the right words.”

Gramps looked at him, then let out an expletive.

Hailey blinked and sat back against her chair. “Gramps!” Her cheeks warmed.

Gramps smiled. He let out another curse word.

Her excitement that Gramps was saying words was tempered by her embarrassment. Of all the words he could start saying, it had to be those. And in the clinic. In front of the therapist. “You can’t say those kinds of words in here.” She turned to Peter. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why he’s saying these.”

Peter held his hand up. “No worries.” He patted Gramps on the shoulder. “I’m glad to see you have some words coming back.”

After a thirty-minute session, Peter turned to Hailey. “I’ll give you some things to take home and work with him, because that will make the most difference.”

“Can I talk to you outside for a minute?” Hailey asked, reminding herself to keep any interactions with Peter on a professional level.

Peter nodded.

“I’ll be right back, Gramps.”

In the hallway, Hailey said, “Do you think he’ll regain all of his speech?”

Without looking directly at her he said, “It’s hard to say. Some stroke victims do, others don’t.”

“I’m sorry about, you know, what he said in there.” Hailey still felt a bit embarrassed.

Peter glanced at her, then looked down at the papers in his hands. “Not the first time I’ve heard those words. Any progress we can make in word formation is good. Some words that are almost instinctive seem to come back first.”

“He doesn’t usually talk like that.”

Peter took an almost imperceptible breath, then gazed at her. Instantly, hundreds of butterflies filled her stomach. “Don’t stress out about it. I’m glad he’s starting to say something.”

“Thanks.”

Peter took a step back. “Do you live with him?”

“No, I live in Colorado, but when he had his stroke I volunteered to come help while he recovers.”

“That’s very nice of you.” His smile tugged at her heart.

“Thank you for working with him.” She cleared her throat.

“I think we’ll see some progress. I’d like to make the next appointment at his home and do the session in familiar surroundings.”

Hailey swallowed hard. “That sounds good.” A shiver raced down her spine.

“Stop by the front desk and let them know you need a home visit.”

“I’ll do that.” She nodded. “We’ll see you then.”

“Looking forward to it.” The way he said it made her wonder if he was flirting with her or simply being kind. Stop thinking about him like that.

Hailey watched him walk away, then she returned to Gramps in the room. “We’re done for today. You did fantastic. Except for, you know, the whole cursing part.” She shook her head and clucked her tongue.

Gramps shrugged and gave a slight smile.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” She helped him down the hall and they stopped at the desk.

“May I help you?” an older woman with fiery red hair asked.

“I think we’re supposed to make an appointment for a home visit.”

The woman eyed Hailey and it made Hailey almost feel like she was under some kind of scrutiny. “It looks like Dr. Stafford can make a home visit on Wednesday at three o’clock.”

“I think that will work.”

The woman wrote out an appointment card and handed it to Hailey. “Here you go. Remember, Dr. Stafford’s time is valuable so please make sure to be home at that time and keep it to only thirty minutes.”

Have I offended this woman somehow? What is her problem?

“Joyce, can you make a copy of this and put it in Mr. St. Claire’s chart?” another lady with wire-frame glasses said.

“Sure,” the woman with red hair answered in a sweet voice. She turned back to Hailey and gruffly said, “Any questions?”

“No. Thank you for your help.” Hailey gave her a courtesy smile, but the woman didn’t reciprocate. Hailey wasn’t sure what was going on. She turned to Gramps and they walked out of the building.

“We need to pick up Gran at the salon.”

Gramps said some garbled words. Hailey didn’t understand most of them, but she could make out the word woman.

“Yeah, I don’t know why she was rude. Maybe she was having a bad day.” Hailey wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.

***

When they got home, Gran said, “How about some tuna casserole for dinner?”

Stifling her gag reflex, Hailey said, “That sounds yummy. Can I help make a salad to go with it?” Please say we can eat something other than tuna casserole.

“I have some fruit in the refrigerator.” Gran pointed.

“I’m on it,” Hailey said, not wanting to appear too zealous.

They sat down to dinner and Gran said grace. Gramps picked up the pitcher with both hands and poured some apple juice into Gran’s glass. “Thank you,” she said.

He winked at her, then poured some juice for Hailey.

“Tell me more about the appointment today,” Gran said.

Hailey turned to Gramps and cocked her head. “Well . . . he said some words.”

“Really?” Gran looked pleased.

Hailey then repeated one of the words.

“Harry!” Gran’s eyes widened. “You said that to the nice speech therapist?”

Gramps shrugged.

“I guess we should be grateful he’s starting to say things again. But, my lands, man, can you keep those words to yourself?” Gran shook her head.

Hailey gave Gramps a you’re-in-trouble-now look, but he simply smiled.

After dinner, Hailey and Gramps cleared the table. He walked over to his recliner. “Do you need anything?” Hailey asked him.

He said something that sounded like beer.

Hailey shook her head. “Nope. No beer today, Gramps. Can I get you some water? More juice?”

Gramps said a string of words that didn’t make sense.

“No alcohol right now.”

Gramps again said some words. Though Hailey didn’t understand each word, she knew the gist. “I know you aren’t happy about this, but you need to give your body time to heal from the stroke. You want to get your speech back, right?”

He nodded.

“Water or juice?” she asked again.

Gramps rolled his eyes.

Hailey brought him a glass of ice water. “Drink plenty of this so you can be hydrated. Dehydration won’t help you recover.”

Gramps waved his hand. He didn’t need words to communicate his disdain for Hailey’s advice.

Hailey turned on the TV for him and surfed the channels until he motioned for her to stop on some war movie.

Hailey went to the back bedroom and found Gran.

“Come sit down.” Gran motioned for Hailey to sit beside her on the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Going through some old family photos. I thought I’d try to put them in albums since I’m home a lot right now.”

Hailey picked up an aged black-and-white picture of a man and woman standing in front of an old car. “Who is this?”

“Who do you think it is?” Gran raised an eyebrow.

Hailey shrugged. The man and woman both looked so young. And so happy together.

Gran put her hand on her hip. “That’s Harry and me.”

Hailey pulled the photo closer to analyze it. “You were beautiful, Gran.”

“You sound shocked.” She blinked.

“No, I . . . I . . .”

“I wasn’t always an old grandma, you know. I used to be young and vivacious.” She ran her fingers through her short, silver hair. “I still feel that way. When I look in the mirror I don’t recognize that old woman looking back at me.” Gran gazed out the window at nothing in particular. “I don’t know where the time has gone.”

Hailey put her hand across Gran’s wrinkled and veined hand.

“Now we’re old. And,” Gran stopped. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without that old coot. He scared me to death having that stroke.”

Hailey reached her arms around her grandmother.

“When did we get this old? I’m not ready for my life to be over.” In a thick voice, she continued, “There’s still life left to be lived.”

“Gramps is going to be fine,” Hailey said, trying to reassure her grandmother. And herself.

“What if he’s not? What if he never speaks again? Or worse, what if he has another stroke? What would I do without him?” Her voice quivered with emotion.

“Let’s not worry about that.” Hailey rubbed Gran’s shoulder. “He’s making progress in his speech, and there’s no reason to suspect he’ll have another stroke. I’ll be here for however long you need.”

Gran leaned her head against Hailey’s. “I appreciate your help, but you have your own life. You can’t stay here forever.”

“Maybe I’ll do just that.” Hailey smiled. The idea of moving to Florida kind of intrigued her.

“Don’t be silly.” She patted Hailey’s knee. “You have a career back in Colorado. And a life.”

“Maybe a career.” Hailey let out a long breath. “But certainly not much of a life.”

“You’ll find another boyfriend.”

“Please don’t suggest I date Roger.” Hailey crinkled her nose.

Gran laughed. “He was kind of a goof, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.” Goof was a perfect description.

“But my other friend—”

“Stop right there.” Hailey held up her hand. “What is with you? You don’t have some secret matchmaking service I should know about, do you?” Hailey asked flippantly.

Gran clutched at her chest. “Why, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. A matchmaking service?” Gran chuckled. “What a silly notion.”

“Gran?” Hailey stared at her, suddenly wondering why Gran was so defensive.

“Hailey, dear. Her grandson is handsome and—”

“Gran, I only want to hang out with you and Gramps.” She peered at her grandmother with serious eyes. “Really.”

“I just hate to see you sit night after night with a couple of old fogies.”

Hailey had to smile. Fogies? “Is it okay if I love being here with you?” Hailey felt safe and secure with her grandparents. It reminded her of being a kid, when life was less complicated.

Gran squeezed her. “Sure it is.”

Hailey picked up a batch of photos. “Let’s see if we can organize these.”