by Cameo Renae
“Oh, okay,” I said blushing. I was taken aback, never thinking that I would’ve ever met Michael’s grandparents. They’d died a few years back, both within about 6 months of each other. They lived in Oregon, so I never had the chance to meet them.
Michael grasped my hand as we skated towards them. I was a little apprehensive, because I was soon to be formally introduced to Michael’s deceased relatives. I wondered if anyone else could pop into this dream. The only relative I would want to see would be my Grammy, but she was still alive and kicking. I wasn’t close to any other relatives, living or deceased.
I thought back to what Michael had told me about his grandparents. His grandfather was a pilot that flew in a few wars, and his grandmother was a housewife with four sons. Michael’s dad was the youngest.
I wondered if they’d like me, and if I would meet up to their expectations. Michael always puffed me up to be better than I really was.
I watched their faces intently, studying their expressions. I could read Michael’s so easily. Then, I realized I was being silly. Michael loved me for me, so why wouldn’t they?
We skated right up to them, and Michael’s grandfather held out his hand to me.
“Elizabeth, so nice to finally meet you,” he said warmly. He was a very distinguished gentleman, very handsome, like all of the men in Michael’s family. He had soft, white hair that was neatly combed back. His eyes were a gleaming, light brown, and donned a crisp, white suit and shiny, white shoes.
I stuck out my hand to shake his grandmother’s, but she stepped forward and hugged me tightly.
“You are just as beautiful as Michael said you were,” she said with a glimmer in her dark brown eyes.
She was petite, and a bit younger than her husband, with light-brown hair, which was pulled into a neat bun. Small whisks of curls hung over her luminous, porcelain like skin. She wore a long white dress, with a white shawl draped over her shoulders; portraying the beauty and grace of an “Old Hollywood” actress.
I could tell by their eyes that they were sincerely happy to meet me, and immediately felt accepted by both of them. Phew!
“We were very impressed at how you handled yourself in that horrible situation you were in,” his grandfather spoke.
“Oh. Uh, yes. But, I wouldn’t have survived without Michael’s help.” I glanced over to Michael. He smiled and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer.
“Yes, he was very determined to learn everything he could to help you, and I must say… I was equally impressed with him.” His grandmother spoke with great pride. “He gets that from my side of the family, of course,” she turned to her husband giving him a wink and a grin.
“Of course, dear,” he replied with a smile.
“Hockey anyone?” Michael asked excitedly.
“Hockey?” I squeaked.
“Yeah! Anyone up for a game?”
“We’re in!” his grandfather answered quickly, grabbing his wife’s hand and raising it up in the air. She smiled.
“Michael, you know I can’t play hockey! You are like Mr. All-Star-hockey-player, and I can barely stay on my feet.”
“Come on Liz… just in case you have a son one day, you’ll be able to teach him my signature moves.”
I glared at him. How could he even talk about that at a time like this? I turned away from him for a split-second, and when I turned back he was holding a hockey puck in one hand, and two hockey sticks in the other. I rolled my eyes. Then, I turned to his grandparents, who had magically changed into winter sporting clothes, with hockey sticks in their hands.
“I give up. This is all too much for me,” I breathed. They all laughed.
Michael threw the puck down on the ice and came up behind me placing a stick in my hands. I guessed it was the two of us, against his grandparents. They were both armed with their hockey-sticks and looked ready to go. He gripped both of my hands and we took off on the ice, hitting the puck back and forth, twisting and turning, then shooting. We scored! But… where did that net come from? I looked across the rink and there was another net sitting on the opposite side of the rink.
But how? I give up!
His grandparents were next. Michael’s grandfather took the puck and with the greatest of ease, twisted and turned across the ice rink with Michael giving chase. The two of them laughed the whole time. Michael tried hard, but couldn’t get the puck away from his grandfather.
“Now do you see where he got all of his moves?” his grandmother said, placing her hand on my shoulder.
“Wow, he’s really good.”
“His grandfather was an All-Star hockey player back in his day, just like his grandson. He was quite a jock, and all of the girls hated me when we started going steady,” she said quietly.
“Really?” I was flabbergasted. I didn’t realize we had so much in common.
We heard his grandfather give out a cheer, and noticed the little black puck resting in the middle of the net. Michael patted him on the back and shook his head in defeat.
“I just got schooled by my grandfather!” he shouted across the ice. We both laughed as they made their way back to us.
It took me a quite a few tries but I eventually got the hang of it. We had so much fun. Michael and I ended up winning 10-8 in the end. Michael and his grandfather showed me a few of their signature moves, walking me through them step by step.
“Well, we have to be going. We’ve got a lot of things to do,” his grandfather said giving me and Michael a big hug.
“Yes, you take care of yourself Elizabeth. It was such a pleasure to finally meet you… even under these circumstances,” his grandmother said hugging me warmly.
“Michael, we’ll be seeing you soon. Take care of your girl,” she said shaking her finger at him.
“I will Grandma,” he said. We watched them walk towards the trees, hand- in-hand. They slowly faded and then disappeared completely.
“You’re grandparents are great. I’m really glad I had the chance to meet them.”
“Thanks. They really like you too.”
“Thank goodness!” I breathed.
“We don’t have much more time together. You’ll be waking up soon. Your mom will be arriving with breakfast. Oh, and my parents will be visiting you.”
“Really? How do you know?” I said shaking my head.
“Well, I had a chance to drop in on them last night, while you were visiting with your mom. I overheard them making plans to come and visit you. They want to see how you’re doing.”
I sighed. “I wish my face could magically fix itself like it does here. I look scary.”
“Liz… you nearly escaped a murderer, and were wandering, for hours, in the woods, in below freezing temperatures, with only socks and pajamas on. No one cares what you look like. They only care that you survived. But, for your information…I still think you’re beautiful, even if -” he hesitated, and his full lips stretched into a smile.
“Thanks for not elaborating,” I said, grinning. “Besides, you get to see me normal. You’d think twice if you were looking at my real face.”
“Liz,” he said exasperated. “Believe me. I’ve seen you at your worst, and yes… despite your busted up face, and frost-bitten fingers and toes, I still think you are the most beautiful girl in my world,” he said, squeezing me tightly.
“Thanks,” I grinned.
“I’ll be with you when you wake up.”
“Yeah, and a whole new set of challenges will be there too,” I replied warily.
“Well, it’s the challenges that keep you alive, keep you kicking. I eat challenges for breakfast.”
“Yeah, I know you do, but my challenges have been eating me for breakfast… and lunch… and dinner!” I huffed.
“How about one more ride before you wake up? I’ll make sure you get your dream’s worth.”
Before I could answer, he folded me into his arms and took off towards the snow machine. Why not? This was how Michael had been ever since I’d known him. He was an extre
mist. That was the brunt of our relationship. We did things, exciting things, things that most couples wouldn’t dream of doing.
He never really had any inhibitions; nothing to hold him back from doing what he wanted to. But then, he also had the most tender soul. He would give the shirt off of his back if he saw a need. He cared about people. That’s just the way he was; an old soul. But, that’s what I loved most about him, and that’s one of the many things I would miss the most.
He ran, carrying me effortlessly in his arms, his eyes fixed on the snow machine. He glanced down at me and winked. My heart fluttered at the total infatuation I had for him. Another mental picture was taken and placed in the back of my mind. I’d taken a lot of mental pictures these past days, and I hoped they wouldn’t end up like most of my photos, in boxes, or scattered around the cottage, never finding a happy or organized home. I hoped that my memories with Michael would never fade. They would always be tucked away safely in the back of my mind, ready to pull out when I needed them most.
He carefully set me back on the snow machine and hopped in front, and then started it; revving the throttle.
“What about helmets?” I asked.
“We won’t need them this time,” he said with a dangerous grin.
“Why?” I sputtered.
He looked back at me. I was already a leech, attached tightly to his body. He turned off the engine and turned to face me.
“I don’t know if I’ll have the chance to see you again Liz,” he said. He was trying to hide his emotions. The deep furrow in his brow, the sadness hidden within his beautiful, brown eyes, and his body language, all told me he was anguishing inside.
“What are you talking about?” Was this really the last time I’d see him? My head and heart began to ache. I wasn’t sure if I was beginning to wake, or if it was from his words. I hadn’t given much thought to how I would feel if I didn’t get the chance to see him again. The fear of losing him overshadowed every fear I’d ever had, or endured so far.
He leaned in, pulling me into his arms, and pressed his soft, warm lips tightly against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. His passion overwhelmed me, and a fire raced through my veins. I melted into his arms which held me tight. Electricity surged through our beings and my mind became fogged, forgetting about everything I’d previously thought of.
When he stopped, I opened my eyes, and he smiled. I was breathless, tingling, and speechless. I knew I wanted to ask him something, but I’d forgotten what it was. Thanks to him, my mind was temporarily out-of-service.
“You ready?” he whispered, kissing my cheek.
I nodded.
My body was like mush. He jumped off the machine and took a seat behind me, pushing me up to the front. He put my thumb on the starter and pressed. It started to purr.
Just then, I remembered what I wanted to ask him… but it was too late. He put his hand over mine and pulled the throttle back.
We flew across a field of fresh white snow, headed for the steepest hill. I had a hunch that he wasn’t going to slow down. In fact, he went faster, bending forward, his face resting on my shoulder. The force of the wind pulled the skin back on my face. I felt the warmth of his lips on my neck, but I was too afraid to respond. We hit the bottom of the hill and flew up it at a 70 degree angle.
“Michael!” I screamed. I swear I heard him laugh. He didn’t slow down, pulling my hand back harder, going even faster. We were quickly reaching the top.
“Michael, you’re crazy!” I screamed.
We flew over the peak and into the sky. The snow machine dropped out from beneath us. He grabbed me around my waist and twisted me to face him. I was locked, tight and secure in his arms, and we were free falling. I wrapped my arms securely around his neck and we kissed.
Chapter 13
“Good morning!” a happy voice chimed.
“No---!” I moaned loudly. I wanted to be back in Michael’s arms.
“Did I interrupt a good dream sweetie?” my mom asked.
How embarrassing!
“Maybe,” I whined, throwing a pillow over my face.
“I made you some breakfast,” she said in a high pitched voice. I heard the rustling of a package. “Your favorite… chocolate chip pancakes and extra crispy bacon,” she tempted, peeling back the foil covering and circling it around my bed. The smell of bacon and pancakes enveloped the room. That was a heavenly smell. I slowly pulled the pillow off of my face and opened my eyes. It was hopeless. My wonderful dream of Michael was gone, especially with my mom here. She had entered the world of recovering alcoholic and I had the feeling she was going to smother me with motherly kindness.
I was going to be eighteen in almost a week, practically an adult. But I had a feeling she’d want to make up for all the missed years.
“Just one more day - then you can come home,” she said cheerfully. “I want you to come and stay with me until you get better. I’m going to take care of you. I spent the whole night cleaning like a mad woman and scrubbed everything that could be scrubbed. I even went down to the store and borrowed one of those steam cleaners and cleaned all the carpets.
“Then I went down to Wal-Mart and bought one of those bed-in-a-bags. Those are really neat. They come with everything,” she said pulling my tray to me, setting up my breakfast plate. She grabbed a small carton of orange juice from her purse and stuck a straw in it, then unfolded a napkin and draped it neatly over my chest.
Oh boy! My mom was back and by the look of it… she was in full mommy mode. I caught a tiny glimpse of my near future. We’d created a mommy monster! The thought made me exhausted.
She pulled back the curtain to reveal the wonderful Alaskan darkness.
“What time is it?”
“Nine O’clock. Sun should be out in a few hours,” she said fidgeting through her purse. Her hands were shaking. “Where are those darn pills?” She whispered to herself. She pulled a little tan bottle out of her bag, shook it over her palm and popped two pills into her mouth. She grabbed my cup of water and gulped it down.
“Shakes,” she said looking up and smiling at me. “It helps when I move around. I guess that’s why I’ve been so busy cleaning.”
I ate one pancake and two strips of bacon then gave the rest to my mom. She polished the rest of the plate off in no time.
“So can I help you with anything honey?”
“I want to take a shower. The nurse said she would take my bandages off today.”
I knew Michaels parents would be coming, I just didn’t know when, and I wanted to look at least halfway descent.
When the nurse finally came in to take my vitals, she removed my IV and bandages. I handed my mom the remote and headed into the bathroom. I hoped I looked better. I didn’t want anyone coming and seeing the beast they saw yesterday.
The mirror was kind and showed a lot less swelling, but the left side of my face was still a dark purplish color. I could probably conceal some of it with make-up.
I turned on the shower and waited for it to get hot before stepping in. The hot, steamy water felt relaxing, pounding on my shoulders. The back of my head was still tender.
I glanced down at my wrists and my ankles. Everything I had experienced the past couple of days was a blur. It felt like a dream, but I had the cuts and bruises to prove it was real. I still couldn’t believe Michael was gone, but the pain was dulled because he was with me almost every time I closed my eyes.
I remembered what he told me in my last visit with him. He might not be able to see me again. The uncertainties of those words were driving me crazy. What if…?
A sudden knock on the door diffused my thoughts.
“Lizzy, you have guests,” my mom called from behind the door.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I hollered back.
It took me much longer than a minute to get out of the shower, put my clothes on, and paint on a seemingly normal looking face. It felt good to be clean again, and feel a little bit closer to norm
al. I was curious, as to whom my guests were, so I pressed my ear to the door.
Could it be the Young’s, Emily, or someone else I wasn’t expecting? I heard soft muffled voices, then a deep laugh which gave it away. It was Mr. Young. Thank God I decided to get ready early, and thank you Michael for giving me the head’s up.
As soon as I came into the room they greeted me with open arms and bright smiles. The room was strong with the smells of fruity perfume and spicy cologne.
“Elizabeth, we’re so glad you’re okay,” Mr. Young said hugging me like he didn’t want to break me.
“Lizzy,” Mrs. Young repeated, hugging me carefully with the same warmth. “How are you feeling? You look so much better from the first time they brought you in,” she noted kindly.
They were probably in the room when I was knocked out. My body was on the bed, but in my dreams I was flying with Michael in Hawaii. The thought caused my lips to turn up.
“Thank you. I feel a whole lot better.”
“Your mom told us that you get to go home tomorrow.”
“Yes,” I exhaled loudly. “I can’t wait.”
There was an awkward moment of silence. Mr. Young pulled a stray chair from against the wall and sat to where he could watch the TV. Mrs. Young took a seat at the foot of my bed.
“We brought you some breakfast,” she said holding up a package from one of the more expensive restaurants in town. “We know how hospital food can be. Hope you like eggs Benedict.”
“Wow. I love eggs Benedict.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” I lied. I was still a bit stuffed from the breakfast my mom brought me. I glanced over to my mom who gave me a wink, slowly nudging her bag, with the empty evidence, under the bed with her foot.
I returned to my bed while my mom assisted in pulling the tray back over me. I carefully opened the neatly packaged food. All eyes were on me. It smelled and looked delicious. There were two eggs with ham on English muffins smothered in hollandaise sauce with pan fried potatoes on the side.
I didn’t have the heart to tell them that I had already eaten. I knew my mom felt the same way. I figured if I paced myself I might have been able to finish most of it.
