CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Grant broke several laws flying through the streets of Brunswick and made it to County General in less than ten minutes, parking in a spot designated “ER Doctors Only.” I threw the door open as soon as the car stopped and was surprised to see him do the same.
“F*ck the ticket,” he announced, grabbing my hand and pulling me along with him. We rushed into the emergency room, looking for the triage station.
As we headed for the triage station, we saw there were two other people waiting, an elderly man who coughed repeatedly into a well-used handkerchief, and a thirty-something man holding a bloody bandage to his head. Both wore the tell-tale hospital bracelets, so I assumed they were taken care of and made my way to the front of the desk.
“Ella Mayfield. Can you tell me where Ella Mayfield has been taken?”
The nurse glanced languidly at us from behind the desk and gave me a flat smile as she set down her novel. “And you are?”
Her tone was apathetic, and I ground my teeth in irritation. “Her granddaughter, Jillian Mayfield. Please, can you just tell me where she’s been taken? You can go back to Fabio in a minute.”
The nurse huffed in irritation but put down her clipboard and began typing into the computer. I bit my tongue to keep from telling this woman where she could shove her clipboard while Grant rubbed my back soothingly. He whispered in my ear, “Let it go and focus on what’s important right now.”
I swallowed down my anger as the nurse found the information.
“She’s having tests run right now, but you can go to the family waiting area up on the second floor. They’ll call you as soon as she’s able to have visitors.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and said a quick prayer of thanks, holding back even more tears. “Is she okay?” I couldn’t bring my voice above a whisper.
The nurse shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry. I don’t have access to that information. You’ll have to wait and talk to her doctor.”
Grant put his arm around me as I sunk into his side. I was grateful he was here with me now. “Let’s go up to the waiting room. Your mom or dad might be there and have more information.”
I nodded, and we made our way to the waiting room. When the elevator dinged and opened, the first person I saw was my mom pacing at the end of the hallway.
“Mom!” I let go of Grant and ran up to her, hugging her tight. “They wouldn’t tell me anything. How’s Gamma? Have you heard anything?”
She pulled me down to sit next to her in one of the hard, plastic chairs that lined the room. “I don’t know much yet. They were taking her for testing. They think she may have had a stroke.”
“Oh my God, Mom. What’s going to happen to her? She’s gonna get better, right?” It was no longer possible to fight the tears, and I let them flow freely.
“I wish I could tell you yes, baby girl, but all we can do right now is wait and pray. It’ll be a few more hours until we really know any specific information about diagnosis or prognosis.”
I sank down into the uncomfortable seat as Grant handed each of us a tissue. I stared at the doorway, tapping my foot in time with the ticking off the clock above my head and waiting for the doctor to come in. I did what I always did when I was stressed: I daydreamed. After a half hour of silence, Grant spoke up.
“I’m going to move the car. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Mrs. Mayfield, can I bring you or Jillian anything?”
Mom looked at Grant, clearly confused by who he was and why he was here. Oh! I totally forgot to introduce them. I was not going to hear the end of this.
“I’m sorry. Mom, this is Grant. He’s a friend of mine from work and drove me here.”
Grant held out his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Mayfield. I’m so sorry to hear about your mother-in-law.”
“Thank you, Grant. And thank you for the offer. But I’m fine for now. I just need Jill’s dad to get here. He was in Texas on business and grabbed the first flight back, but I’ll need to pick him up from the airport in a few hours.”
Grant rubbed my shoulder with his thumb. “You need anything? Coffee or something to eat?”
“No, thanks.”
Grant walked toward the elevator and I took out my phone to call Christian. It went to voicemail before I remembered why he wasn’t answering. I quickly explained what happened, trying not to cry, and headed back to where Mom sat.
“So why is it that this Grant is here, and Christian is not?”
I rolled my eyes. With nothing to do but wait for news of Gamma, Mom must have decided now was a good time to play twenty questions. She wasn’t Christian’s biggest fan. She’d found a joint he’d left in my car after borrowing it last year, and she never quite got over it. He swore up and down it was an old one, from before he quit all that, but my mom’s trust in him was doused. It didn’t help that he decided not to go to college or a trade school. Mom thought he would end up mooching off of me and while she never came out and told me to dump him, it was written all over her face every time she saw him.
“Grant was with me when I got your call. And Christian’s mom asked him to go with her to St. Augustine to visit his grandparents. It’s their forty-fifth wedding anniversary and they’re having a big party. He won’t be back until Sunday night or Monday.”
“Well, it certainly was nice of this cute work friend Grant to drive you all the way here and sit with you.” She paused, nudging my shoulder. “Comforting you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Let it go, Mom. I’m dating Christian. I love Christian. You know this.”
She didn’t say anything, but looked into my eyes and smiled. And that smug smile said it all. For better or worse, I was my mother’s daughter. She saw through me, and saw what I was too chicken to admit. I’m sure she could guess Grant and I were close—I mean, he was here with me and Christian wasn’t (not that Christian could help it). And I knew she saw the subtle glances, the simple touches between us. Her smile said she knew what I still refused to admit to myself. I needed to get out of here before she made me voice things I wasn’t ready to admit.
“I’m going to find a doctor for an update. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I practically ran from the room, punching the elevator button repeatedly as if it would come faster the more times I pressed it.
“Jillian, come back here. I’ll go,” Mom called. The elevator dinged, and I considered pretending I didn’t hear her. Until she continued, “Besides, dear, you wouldn’t want me to be the only one here when Grant comes back, would you?”
I stepped out of the elevator and walked back into the waiting room. This day was mentally and physically exhausting, and playing games with my mother about my love life was not what I needed to deal with right now. Luckily, Mom saved me from dealing with it further.
“Stay, sweetie. I’m sorry I brought it up. I’ll go check on the doctor.” She gave me a hug on the way out. “I’ll be back soon.”
I sat back down in the same plastic chair, oddly finding it comforting, and thought about my Gamma. I thought about all the afternoons we spent baking and playing when I was a kid. The weekends she’d taken my sister and me to the beach so we could fly kites and build sandcastles. She was more than a grandmother to me. She was a confidant, a sounding board, and always somehow knew what I needed before I did. She was so important to me, and I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if she wasn’t here anymore. I brought my knees to my chest, lost in my thoughts for an indeterminate amount of time.
I was aware when Grant came back and sat in the chair next to me, but I stayed in my thoughts. Mom returned, flipping through the channels on the waiting room TV over and over. I didn’t have the energy to worry about what was happening with me and Grant, or what my mom thought about Christian. I only focused on my Gamma.
Neither Grant nor my mother tried to talk to me, but occasionally Mom would look over and smile, or Grant would put his arm around me, rubbing small circles on my arm and shoulder. I was glad they were there, but more glad they understood what I needed right now.
It was a while later when the doctor finally came in to give us an update. “Are you the family of Ella Mayfield?”
My mom and I stood immediately, anxious for whatever news he was about to deliver.
“I’m Dr. Kush, head of neurology here at County General. I’ll be handling her case.”
We shook his hand and he led us to a small table in the back corner of the room. “She was brought in after being found on the sidewalk by a neighbor. We’ve done an EKG, an echo, and cardiac enzymes and have now been able to rule out a heart attack. It appears at this point that she’s had a stroke. We’ll keep her in the ICU overnight and order an MRI for the morning. We will know more after we get those results.”
My mom squeezed her eyes shut, but I was too scared to do much of anything. “Is she going to be okay?” Mom asked, clenching her hands together.
“We’ve had trouble stabilizing her blood pressure. It’s a common side effect of a stroke, so until we do I can’t say as of yet. We’re giving her some medicine for that and monitoring her closely, but it’ll probably be a while until we know for sure the extent of the damage.”
My worry, irritation, and anger flared. “But you’re a doctor. The head of the department. How can you not know anything yet?”
The doctor looked at me like I was a child. “Strokes are very tricky. She could come out of it perfectly fine, or she could be partially paralyzed and lose the ability to speak. Until we can stabilize her BP and she wakes up, we just don’t know.” He stood, patting me on the back. “We’ll keep you posted as soon as we know more, but it’ll probably be a while.”
After he left, we resumed our silent vigil. I was completely flabbergasted that in this century, with all of the advances in medicine we now had access to, the best the doctor could give me was “wait and see.”
“Jill?” my mom asked. “I’m going to go call your sister and your Aunt Natalie. Then I have to leave to pick up your dad at the airport. We’ll come straight here afterwards, but will you stay until we get back?”
“Of course, Mom. I’ll call if anything happens.”
She gathered her purse and keys. “Thanks, sweetie. I’ll probably be back well after midnight since Daddy’s flight doesn’t get in until late. Do you want some money for dinner or anything?”
I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”
“You really should eat something. It’s not good to worry on an empty stomach. You’ll get an ulcer.”
I rolled my eyes and was about to fire back when Grant piped up. “I’ll get us something, Mrs. Mayfield. Don’t worry, I’m getting hungry myself. You just go and do what you need to do. I’ll take good care of Jillian.”
He smiled politely at her before turning and sitting next to me. My mom thanked him as she hustled out the door and toward her car. Now alone with Grant in the waiting room, I pulled my knees back to my chest and rested my chin on top of them. Tilting my head, I faced Grant.
He tucked my hair behind my ear. “You and your grandma are really close, huh?”
I nodded and smiled. “My parents used to have Gamma babysit me every afternoon after school until I was sixteen and could drive. She and Grandpa Sean often took my sister and me on the weekends growing up. They also used to take us around in their RV for a few weeks every summer to places like Yellowstone or to see the hot air balloon festival in Albuquerque until he passed away when I was thirteen. We’ve always been very close.”
“You’re lucky. I’ve only even seen my grandparents a few times since my mom died.”
“I can’t imagine life without her in it.” I blinked back tears. “Thank you for being here with me.”
He smiled and dragged me to him, so we were cuddled up together. The gesture was comforting.
“When the choice is between sitting next to you and seeing your beautiful face or being anywhere else, there is no choice.”
Looking up at him and seeing the sincerity in his eyes made it hard to remember we had only a few days before confirmed our decision to stay just friends. Or to remember that I had a boyfriend. I closed my eyes and snuggled closer into his chest, breathing in his alluring scent. This was one of the worst days of my life, and I wanted to accept what he was offering without worrying about the consequences.
With my eyes still closed, I felt him lower his lips to my temple and kiss me softly. He stayed there for a moment, like he was deciding if he should stop.
I didn’t want him to stop.
Ever.
I tilted my head, just an inch or so to give him more access. That was all he needed to solidify his course. He slowly, agonizingly slowly, peppered kisses down my face, stopping when his mouth was next to my ear. “Jillian,” he breathed. I knew he was asking permission. Permission I’d previously denied him. But right now I didn’t have the strength to fight my feelings.
I nodded and felt his body tense, the muscles in his arms tightening like a knotted rope.
His light, barely there kisses continued their downward path until his mouth was aligned with mine. A long, slow shiver slid down my spine like an electric current. His mouth hovered against mine, as if savoring the moment. I could feel the heat from his mouth, and my heart began to race with anticipation. Ever since our bowling night, I’d pictured and daydreamed about this moment, thinking it would only ever be a fantasy. But now that it was here, I didn’t know what to do with it.
Grant’s hands moved up my arms until he cupped my face. A rough, callused thumb gently ran over my bottom lip, causing desire to pool low in my belly. I swallowed, my entire body craving his touch. Everything else faded away. The noise from the TV, the room, the stress. There was only how much we both wanted this kiss. This moment.
“Kiss me, Grant. Please.” I wet my lips and put my hands on his chest, pulling him closer, the stubble from his five o’clock shadow scratching my cheek. He didn’t make me wait any longer. He closed the space between us, lowering his lips to mine.
I whimpered against his mouth, amazed at how good this first kiss could feel. His mouth was hot, but sweet. Soft, but demanding. My hands moved up his chest and around his neck until they knotted in his hair. I moaned, and his tongue slid into my mouth, dancing with my own.
The need for more—more of his wet, hungry kisses, more of his hands on my inflamed skin, more of him—built as we consumed each other.
A clearing of someone’s throat finally tore us apart. A couple with a young child was staring at us as the mother attempted to cover the boy’s eyes. My face burned with embarrassment—not about this kiss (God, that was amazing), but about getting caught. My fingers slid from Grant’s hair, and he helped me stand up.
“Why don’t we go get something from the cafeteria to eat?” he suggested, taking my hand and linking our fingers together.
“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”
We strolled out of the room hand in hand. While I may have been embarrassed at getting caught making out in public, I couldn’t seem to keep the smile off my face. Grant had just given me a ray of sunshine on this dark and cloudy day.