Stay Lucky

by Halsey Harlow

  “No, you watch,” said the kid, lifting a defiant chin.

  Grant stared down at her.

  Carrie said, “Oh, ho, ho, now. That wasn’t very polite. I bet your dad wouldn’t like that at all.”

  The girl sniffed haughtily. “I’m just saying, he ran into us, so he should watch.”

  Grant frowned at her.

  She glared at Grant.

  “You shouldn’t act like a brat,” Grant said. “It’s not going to get you far in life.”

  “I guess you would know,” she replied. It was surreal to hear such a well-timed and biting comment coming from her tiny, cute face. Grant liked children usually, but this one struck him as strangely precocious in a way that hit a little too close to home and brought back his own painful childhood memories.

  “Lucky, don’t be rude, sweetheart!” Carrie scolded.

  “He was rude first.”

  The kid’s name was Lucky? What asshole would do that to an innocent child? Grant felt sorry for her then, but she just stared at him without any regret.

  “You’re right,” Grant said. “I was. And I apologize.”

  Lucky lifted her chin and said with great magnanimity, “Apology accepted.”

  “Come on, now. Let’s get you down to peds. Sorry, Dr. Anderson,” Carrie said as she pulled the little girl down the hall.

  Grant watched after them, wondering what illness the child was in the hospital for. She looked healthy enough to him. He felt guilty for having called her a brat, especially if she was sick. The kids in peds were heroic and entitled to have their moody, bad days. He’d have to seek her out later to apologize again, and maybe give her a teddy bear from the gift shop.

  He turned down the hallway with the best vending machine. It had the marshmallow gooey nugget things he liked. They would settle his mind like meditation did for the New Age wannabes he saw too many of at the gym. And, thanks to Leo Garner popping up all the time, his mind certainly needed settled more and more these days.

  • • •

  In Grant’s opinion, any successful surgery lasting over eight hours deserved a reward—and not just more marshmallow thingies from the vending machine, but a decent meal at a fancy restaurant, and a nice drink or two.

  Little Apron was quiet on a Tuesday night, and Grant sat alone at a table in the corner, staring into space, going over in his mind the crucial moments of the surgery: the thrill of discovering the exact positions of the masses behind the patient’s esophagus and right lung, the way the layers had folded back under his scalpel like warm butter, and the triumphant moments of removing the masses without much effort at all. It’d been a good day.

  Grant startled out of his memory as someone sat down beside him at his table. “Uh, no, I don’t want any company,” he bit out, annoyed. Then he glanced over and grit his teeth together to keep from screaming in frustration.

  Leo smiled. “Me, either.”

  Grant glared at him. “Then why are you sitting here?”

  “To avoid—”

  At that moment, Leo’s grandmother, Marie Garner, swept into the room, looked around, and made a beeline for Leo. Her little beehive hairdo and tanned cheeks were stretched into a wide, toothy grin. She wore her sheriff’s uniform, but her gun wasn’t in the holster at her side. Maybe she was off-duty. The fact that Blountville had a lady sheriff had come as a surprise to Grant when he first found out. He’d pegged the place as Bible Belt enough to want women in the kitchen, not on a crime scene—not that there was a ton of crime in Blountville—but apparently the town had a progressive underbelly at times.

  “Look, do me a favor, and go along with this,” Leo whispered urgently.

  Grant snorted. “Why should I—”

  “Please,” Leo begged. His gray eyes went super wide and so, so pretty that Grant felt a coil of heat in his abdomen.

  But he couldn’t give that much thought because Marie was upon them then. “Sugar-butt, I thought that was you. I was just on my way out the door when I saw you come in. Having dinner with Dr. Anderson?”

  “No,” Grant said.

  “Yes,” Leo answered.

  “I see,” Marie said, narrowing her eyes. “Dr. Anderson here has quite the reputation in town.”

  “For?” Grant asked.

  “Memaw,” Leo warned.

  “For loose morals and being rude. I know you dated my grandson once before, but I’d urge you to reconsider taking up the habit again.”

  “I don’t intend to.”

  Leo rolled his eyes, stood up, and kissed his grandmother’s cheek, and she hugged him fondly. “Memaw, how are you?”

  Grant remembered when he’d first accepted the position at Appalachian Medical, he’d found the names North Carolinian people called their grandparents sometimes weird, but after all these years, he was used to it.

  “Well, I’m fine, sugar-butt. The question is how are you?” She turned her attention away from Grant and focused on her grandson. “Your mother said there was an incident yesterday at the farm, and I’ve been worried sick ever since.”

  “The farm” was a little bit of land up in the mountains that Leo’s family had passed down for several generations now. It had a barn, a small house, and a pond, but not much else. They didn’t plant anything or even keep any animals. Grant had only been to it once before things had ended with Leo six years ago.

  Leo waved his hand, shaking his head. “Ah, it was nothing, Memaw. I’m hale and hardy. Like a horse.”

  “Right, of course. That’s why you need dialysis three times a week and all of those ridiculous medicines. Your mother showed them to me, of course. Bottles and bottles of them.” Marie leaned closer to him, her face drawn and tired. “It hurt me to see them all. When do they think you’ll be better? Is there a new kidney in the works for you, or what now? And how can Memaw help? Should I make a few phone calls—?”

  “No!” Leo interrupted. “No, Memaw. Thank you. But my doctors are optimistic and I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  Grant raised a brow. That was a lie and he knew it.

  “And, don’t get involved, please. Mom’s still trying to get in touch with Jennifer. You know how touchy Jenn can be. I don’t want anyone or anything to run her off before we get a chance to speak.”

  “What about your cousin, Felice? Or little Blaine? Have they been tested?”

  “Blaine’s just a kid, Memaw. And we did test Felice, just to see, but she’s still too young.”

  “She’s a match, though?” Marie said, looking thoughtful. No, scheming. Grant could nearly see her crime-solving skills engaging, looking for the solution.

  “Yeah, Felice is a match, but, legally, she’s too young, Memaw. She told me, though, that if I still need a kidney when she’s eighteen, then her extra one is all mine.”

  “Cute kid, that one!” Marie smiled, but it didn’t erase her worry. “Has her priorities straight. Not like your sister.” Marie rolled her eyes. “Jennifer, it’s like she didn’t get even an ounce of Meryl and Chuck’s steadfastness in her genes. She’s all unpredictable, unaccountable, and uncontrollable. Heck, she’s a piece of work.”

  “She’ll come through for me, Memaw,” Leo said. “If she’s even a match.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet she’s a match all right,” Marie said knowingly. “Someone in this massive family of ours has to be.” Marie’s eyes narrowed and she snapped her fingers rapidly, before tugging her cell phone out of her pocket. “You know, I just recalled. I have something out in the squad car for you.” She slanted a knowing gaze at Grant. “And if Dr. Anderson here makes any moves on your virtue while I’m gone, sugar-butt, don’t stress yourself. I can take him.”

  Grant lifted the edges of his lips in a sarcastic smile as Marie walked away. “What’s her problem with me?”

  Leo sat down at the table again. “She’s just overprotective of me right now. And she remembers some of your choice rude comments from that family dinner you came to with me that time.”

  “The pie was mushy. I
wasn’t trying to be rude.”

  “Oh, Grant, you’re such a handsome asshole,” Leo said softly.

  “Honest and asshole aren’t the same things.”

  “True. And I admit I’ve always liked that about you.”

  “Whatever. Apparently your Memaw doesn’t.”

  “She doesn’t like the idea of me being with anyone, frankly. She loves me and accepts me, but I secretly think she believes my health issues are a punishment from God for my sexuality.”

  Grant stared bug-eyed at him. “You think that and you still love her?”

  “People aren’t perfect, Grant. And she’d do just about anything for me. Plus she’s never said any of that. I just suspect it.”

  “Wow.”

  “Anyway, thanks,” Leo said, looking down at Grant from under his lashes.

  “For what? Sitting here? No problem. I had nothing better to do tonight anyway. But now I’d like to finish up my dinner. Alone. So I can get home and catch up on Wheel of Fortune.”

  Leo placed his hand on Grant’s for a moment. It seemed to tingle where it touched Grant’s skin and he frowned down at it, confused. Leo pulled away after a moment and Grant couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

  “Thanks for…well, let’s put it this way. If I were alone, she would have grilled me like a crime suspect. Questions about everything, and I didn’t want to answer the personal stuff. Not tonight, anyway.”

  “Well, it looks like you’re not past the danger yet, because here she comes again, and here I go.” Grant threw his napkin down and started to stand up.

  “Grant, stay. Please. Just a few minutes. Then she’ll be gone, and we can—Memaw, you’re back.”

  Grant sat back down, curiosity about the large, yellow envelope in Marie’s hand winning out over his desire to make a big show about how much he did not care about Leo Garner or his business.

  “I almost forgot, sugar-butt, but your attorney—though I can hardly believe it given Doug’s track record in life—dropped some paperwork by my office for you this afternoon. He said you knew about it. Said you’d pick it up today, actually.”

  Leo swallowed hard and took the yellow envelope from Marie’s hand. “Thanks, Memaw. I’ve been waiting for these. I meant to swing by earlier but time got away from me.”

  “Are they what I think they are?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, he took his sweet ass time getting it back to you. How long does a signature take? I think he made it good and clear how little he truly loves—”

  “Thanks again, Memaw,” Leo said, standing up, kissing her cheek, and then turning her toward the door. “Sorry to be rude, but I’m catching up on old times with Grant, here. So, you know…”

  Marie looked skeptical, but she bussed Leo’s cheek again, and then straightened her uniform after they hugged. “Well, bring that daughter of yours over to see me tomorrow and all will be forgiven. I’ll leave you with Dr. Anderson.” She leaned down to Leo’s ear and whispered, “Are you sure you don’t need rescuing, sugar-butt? Everyone in town knows the man is a player after only one thing.”

  “I can hear you,” Grant said.

  “Of course you can,” Marie said. “It was intended as a warning. My grandson is in delicate health and I am the law around these parts, so, make of that what you will.”

  “Memaw,” Leo said, rolling his eyes and flushing. “Back off, all right. He’s no threat to me.”

  “Whatever you say, sugar-butt,” Marie said, and then turned back to Grant. “It would be in your best interest, Dr. Anderson, not to upset him or strain him in any way, do you understand? Or your little seduction here could end with him flopping around like a fish on the floor.”

  “Memaw,” Leo warned again.

  Grant stared at her with an open mouth, not sure what to make of these accusations. He wanted to defend himself by pointing out that, hey, Leo had crashed his dinner party for one and was currently upsetting him, but he couldn’t seem to get his tongue to cooperate.

  “His heart, you get it?” She narrowed her gray eyes at him. “It’s not up to the task.”

  “Memaw,” Leo said, standing up and taking her by the elbow. “This is entirely inappropriate and not your business. Thanks for coming back with the papers. I’ll see you later.”

  Marie shot Grant another warning glare, tapped her hip where her gun usually rested, and then finally left. Leo watched her go as he made exaggerated shooing motions with his hands.

  “God, it’s exhausting,” Leo said, sitting down once more, elbows on the table and chin in one hand. “Everyone is so overprotective and nosy. I forgot what it was like living here, with everyone all up in your business. Los Angeles was nice like that. I don’t think my neighbors there even knew my name.”

  “Which I’m sure you hated,” Grant said.

  Leo wrinkled his nose in that ridiculously endearing way that Grant wanted to hate. “Yeah. I kind of did.” He raised his hand and asked the passing waiter for water.

  Grant watched as Leo drank nearly half of the glass in one long swallow. “Shouldn’t you be watching that?” Grant asked.

  “Oh,” Leo said, looking guilty. “Yeah.” He pushed the water glass away. “That’s about twice the amount I have at any one time now. Don’t want to pressure my kidneys. It’d be nice to be able to eat and drink like a normal person again. Ah, well. If wishes were changes.” Leo’s eyes went distant. “Lots of things would be different.”

  Grant could only assume that Leo was talking about Curtis Banks, and he wondered, briefly, what the hell had happened there. But he didn’t dwell on it, because Marie had said something else that’d caught his attention. Something he didn’t quite believe he’d heard correctly.

  “So, did I hear your grandmother right? You committed to the ultimate leap of faith and reproduced?” He wondered what a child of Leo’s would look like. Would she have her father’s dimpled chin? Or was she adopted?

  “Yeah. Kind of,” Leo said, distracted, looking at the envelope in his hands, turning it over and over, as though he could read the contents via x-ray vision. “Lucky.”

  Grant snorted. “Yeah right, you’re lucky.”

  “No, she is,” Leo said, his voice still distant.

  “Wait. Your kid’s name is Lucky?” Grant shook his head in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be damned. So, you’re telling me the little girl I met with Carrie at the hospital? The one who told me off for being rude? That was your kid?”

  That got Leo’s attention, and he broke into a smile. “Oh, you’ve met her, huh? I didn’t realize.” He leaned closer, invading Grant’s space like he always had, and said, in a conspiratorial way, “Yeah, she’s a feisty one. Like her mom. But hopefully better. She will be if I have anything to do with it.”

  “And who the hell is her mom?” Grant asked. The way Leo spoke of her made it seem as though Grant should know.

  “Oh, really? You hadn’t heard? I’m sure it was the talk of Blountville at the time.”

  “Gossip isn’t really my thing, Leo,” Grant said. Though, he supposed that was exactly what he was engaging in at the moment, and he definitely heard plenty of it spilling from Alec’s lips whenever they got together. “Besides, there’s so much going on behind the scenes of this town that I can’t keep up. I’m sure whoever your baby mama is, she wasn’t a top story for long.”

  “Jennifer – my sister, Jennifer – is Lucky’s mother.”

  Now that Leo mentioned it, Grant did remember overhearing some nurses talking about Jennifer Garner and saying something about her having a baby. He hadn’t really meant to listen, but gossip about the Garners always seemed to sink in and stick in his brain meats. It was annoying that Leo was probably the reason for that.

  “Oh, that’s right. So you’re raising your sister’s bastard.”

  Leo’s smile faltered. “Charming as ever, I see.”

  Grant grimaced. He didn’t mean to be such an asshole, but he didn’t like to mince words either. “Listen,
I didn’t ask you to sit down, so if my company isn’t to your liking, then go right ahead and—”

  “Oh, come on. Lighten up,” Leo said, smiling again. The light in his gray eyes did weird things to Grant’s insides. “Yes, I’m raising my sister’s child. I’ve adopted her actually. Well, Curtis and I did, and so, well…she’s my child now. And these forms,” Leo said tapping the envelope. “They give me full physical custody of her, since Curtis is still in L.A. and traveling constantly with filming. We aren’t together anymore.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Grant asked, dismissing any discussion of the annoying Curtis Banks out of hand.

  “Who? Jennifer? She’s just a mess. It happens that way sometimes in a family,” Leo said, looking uncomfortable.

  “No, what’s wrong with Lucky. Why is she in the hospital?” It seemed extraordinarily bad luck to have survived a heart transplant only to end up with a child in the hospital at the same time that Leo’s kidneys had completely failed.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Carrie—a nurse—was taking her to peds,” Grant said. “I assumed?”

  Leo chuckled. “Oh, no. Thank God. I mean, knock on wood, right? But, no, sometimes things are just too crazy and I can’t find anyone to watch Lucky, so she has to come to the hospital with me. You know, during my dialysis. It gets boring for her. So, Carrie—we went to high school together—takes her down to peds to play with the healthier kids, or the toys, or something. I don’t know. Lucky doesn’t tell me much about it. She doesn’t like to talk about the hospital.”

  “Peds is no place for a kid,” Grant said.

  Leo lifted his brows. “Um, it’s pediatrics.”

  “It’s for sick kids,” Grant said. “There’s a difference. And you should know that.”

  Leo paled and Grant felt oddly guilty, which was idiotic, because Leo was the one who wasn’t thinking things through here.

  “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

  “The existence of sick kids is the cruelest thing on this cruel earth and it hurts too much to have to witness it unless it’s your calling or your own damn kid. She doesn’t need to see that crap. Or hear about it. Hell, I’m an adult and I don’t want to hear about it.”