“Your—oh, well, I don’t—it’s I…” Grant ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “How long has it—I mean, I think you should ask Leo that, don’t you?”
Lucky fiddled with the edge of her nightgown. “It makes him sad. I don’t like to make Daddy sad. He used to always look sad.” She sat down on the steps, not coming to join him at the table. “Did you know that when he was in L.A. he cried sometimes? He’d hold me and cry.”
Grant felt as though a low simmer had begun within, the idea of Leo in L.A. crying alone, while poor Lucky was in the middle of it. It was more than he could stand.
“I didn’t know,” Grant said.
“Papa was gone a lot. It scared me.”
“It sounds…scary.”
“Daddy hasn’t cried since he met you,” Lucky said. “And I like how you make him laugh by being mean. When Papa was mean, it never made him laugh.”
“You know too much for a five year old,” Grant said.
“I know. Mrs. Franklin says that all the time.”
“No,” Grant said, standing up, and going to sit next to her on the stair, squeezing in beside her, so that she was half on his lap. “Mrs. Franklin is an idiot. And that’s not what I meant. I just mean that you’re a little girl, and you should think about little girl things.”
“Okay. Like wanna pretend I’m Medusa and you’re Perseus, and you’ve come to cut off my head, but this time I freeze you and turn you into stone?”
Grant sighed, put his hand on Lucky’s head, and said, “But then who will save Andromeda?”
Lucky puckered her lips thinking. “Sometimes good people die. That’s just the way it is.”
• • •
Present
Leo was seizing on the table, and he was still open, they hadn’t even had time to get him closed. They pushed meds faster than Grant could begin to understand what was going on.
“Let me go,” Grant said, and he didn’t recognize his own voice.
“No, Grant, you’ve got to calm down first. They’ll get it under control. He’s going to be—”
“Shut up!” Grant said. “He’s not having a reaction to the anesthesia; it’s a CNS infection, the immunosuppressant, it’s—do they not understand what’s going on?”
“Grant, calm down, or I’ll have you put down with a sedative.”
Grant shoved Dennis hard, nearly toppling him over. “Just you try.”
“Grant!” Alec’s voice cut through, high pitched and sharp. “What is going on in here?”
And then Alec made a strange noise, and he was in Grant’s arms, holding him, squeezing him so tight Grant hoped he could hold him in, and keep him from turning inside out. He clenched Alec so hard that he heard him gasp, but he didn’t let go.
“It’s going to be okay,” Alec said.
“Don’t lie to me,” Grant said, starting to push him away. He didn’t want that. He needed better than a lie to keep himself from going into that OR and taking over himself.
Alec clung to him. “Okay, okay. Just, shh. You can’t help him this way. Calm down. Grant, he’s gonna need you to stay sane, all right? Breathe for me. Breathe.”
Grant looked into Alec’s glitter-dusted eyes and took a long breath in, and then let it out; it sounded embarrassingly like a sob.
“That’s it, that’s good,” Alec said, running his hands up and down Grant’s arms. “Just look at you. So in love. Such a wreck. Welcome to the human race, Grant. It’s tough stuff.”
If this was the human race, if this was love and weakness, Grant really didn’t think he was built for it. All of these emotions, all of this fear, it was too much for him. He hated it. He wanted it gone. But he wanted Leo more.
“What if he—”
Alec shook his head firmly and clenched Grant’s forearms. “Don’t. Stop right there, mister. You can’t think those kinds of things.”
But he couldn’t stop his mind from finishing the thought. His chest grew so tight with fear that he started hyperventilating again. He recognized the symptom, knew he needed to get it under control, but he couldn’t regulate his breathing.
“Oh, baby,” Alec said, putting his arms around him again. “Shhhh. Breathe. Breathe. He’s in excellent hands.”
Jameson was a hack. Grant knew that now, he should never have trusted him. He should have insisted that they bring in someone else. Someone better. He tried to turn toward the glass again, to look down at Leo, but Alec jerked his arms, making him face him. “Don’t,” he said. “Just stay focused on me right now.”
“Is it still bad?” Grant asked.
“He’s stopped seizing,” Dennis said, glancing over his shoulder. “They’re getting him closed up now. Once they get him out of the OR, we’ll see what’s what. He’s going to be—”
“Say it again, and I’ll kill you myself.”
Chapter Thirteen
Six Months Ago
“Jennifer’s a match?” Leo said. He sounded uncertain, like he couldn’t even believe it. “And you’re sure?”
“Yes, sugar-butt. Of course I’m sure. Your mother and father have her at the hospital now, detoxing and getting well enough for the surgery,” Marie said, patting her gun like a habit. “And after all of that mess with that woman in Connecticut and her damaged kidneys, it’s good to not get our hopes up in vain this time.”
Little Apron was bustling with patrons and Grant glanced around to see who all was listening. He knew Blountville, and everything they talked about tonight would be fodder for gossip tomorrow. He could hear it now: Leo Garner’s little sister was giving him a kidney in exchange for him raising her kid. Grant didn’t want that version of the story getting back to Lucky.
“Can you believe she was living in that hovel in New York? It was disgusting, let me tell you. I wouldn’t have even believed it, if I hadn’t seen it for my own self,” Marie said, resting her hand on her sidearm.
“It’s a good thing Dad and Mom got there,” Leo said. “It sounds like it was just in time.”
“There was a pig living in the apartment, sugar-butt. An actual pig. It was one of her roommate’s pets. I use both the words ‘roommate’ and ‘pet’ loosely, if you get what I’m saying.”
“Gives Hell’s Kitchen a whole new meaning,” Grant said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
“Grant,” Leo said softly.
“But the real question is, are her kidneys of any use?” Grant asked. “Drugs and healthy organs don’t always go hand in hand.”
Leo sounded sick when he interjected, “Grant, please. I don’t want to even talk about that. I don’t care about me right now. I’m just scared for Jennifer. Is she okay? Is this completely voluntary, Memaw? Because I won’t take her kidney if she doesn’t want to give it to me.”
Grant interrupted, “You might not care about yourself right now, but that’s all I care about. I don’t give a rat’s ass about your sister’s state of mind, or even about the validity of her consent. You will take this kidney and you will not think twice about that, do you understand?”
Leo’s eyes took on a rare, angry glow.
Grant leaned forward, ready to press the point more if need be. It was essential that Leo accept the kidney.
“Well said,” Marie said. “I agree whole heartedly, doc.”
“How can you say that?” Leo asked, looking around, probably gauging how many people were eavesdropping, too. It had to be the entire restaurant at this point. “You’re a doctor, Grant. You know what’s at stake here if there’s been coercion—”
“There’s been no coercion,” Marie said. “Jennifer is very willing—eager even—to give her brother the help he needs. She wants to see you to tell you so herself.”
Leo shook his head, breathing in through his nose. His mouth was set in a sad line. “Why do I doubt that? It’s all my fault,” he said. “I should have looked out for her better in L.A.; I should have known what was going on, made her get help, made her get clean.”
Gran
t scoffed. “No one gets clean unless they’re both determined and damned lucky.”
Leo’s jaw set tightly and he glared at Grant. “You don’t even know her. She’s my baby sister and I love her.”
Grant cleared his throat, and glanced at Marie who was obviously very curious about just how Grant planned to handle Leo’s anger.
“Yes, yes, of course. I understand. She’s your sister. And you should love her. I get that. I just don’t get why that means I have to think she’s not exactly what she is: a drug addict who left her kid with you, went missing for a few years, worried her family sick, including you, and now suddenly wants to buy back everyone’s affection and trust with a kidney for her big brother. Love her all you want, Leo. It doesn’t change who she is.”
“Grant. You know nothing about her. You have no idea what she’s been through, or—”
“Oh, I think I do, pretty much the same as what you’ve been through, sans being, oh, gay and undergoing a heart transplant, and losing function of both kidneys, too, so I don’t see what excuse—”
“You! You are such a jerk!” Leo tossed his napkin on the table and stormed away, walking out into the rain without his umbrella.
Grant got up to go after him, but Marie grabbed his hand. “Well, you made a mess of that one, doc. But give him a minute or twenty to cool off. You’ll just make it worse right now. He needs to deal with this. On his own.”
Grant was skeptical. Leo might interpret Grant not coming after him to mean that Grant didn’t care, but he sank down into the chair, feeling the stares in the room boring into him.
“Well, I guess there is more than one way to announce that Leo Garner and I are a truly serious couple. Personally, I’d just planned on holding his hand through thick and thin, for all the world to see, going to all the local weddings together, and maybe marrying him one day, but I guess having him throw a fit on me in public is just as good.”
“That’s right, doc. There is more than one way to skin that cat,” Marie whispered conspiratorially. “If you wanted to make for even more rumors, you could begin to sob into your wine glass while I console you. It would be the talk of the hospital tomorrow. Just imagine how much money will exchange hands if they see you cry.”
Grant couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, I already know there’s a pool for how long it will be before Leo dumps me.”
“Oh, well, don’t worry. Tonight doesn’t count. I’m sure you’ll have it made up by morning.” Marie patted Grant’s shoulder with a firm hand.
“And if we don’t?” Grant said.
Marie smiled and patted her gun again. Her accent was a bit thicker as she laid it out. “Then you go to him and you tell him that you’re sorry, that of course his sister is an amazing, generous, loving girl, and that you’re ever so thankful for her gift to him. And you try not to sound as sarcastic as I just did when you say it.”
Grant harrumphed and took a sip of his wine. He hoped when he got back to his apartment Leo would be there waiting for him ready to make up. If he wasn’t, then he supposed he’d have to drive over to the farm in the rainstorm and pound on the door until Leo let him in. Very dramatic, but, hell, he’d pull a Say Anything if he had to. He’d yell his love from the so-called pasture, while blasting that Peter Gabriel song from his car stereo. Leo could never say he lacked in the romance department again.
Grant smiled at the thought, glad to find some amusement to lighten his concern. It was good to know that those ridiculous romantic movies that his roommate in medical school used to watch might be good for something.
• • •
As it turned out he did have to drive out to the farm. The rain was coming down in buckets and he could barely see through his windshield, but Leo wasn’t answering his phone, and Grant was starting to get worried.
Pulling up to the side of the house, Grant saw Leo sitting by the kitchen door in a wooden lawn chair, an umbrella in one hand, and a dark bottle in the other. As Grant got out, the rain washed over him in a sheet, instantly soaking him through. His shoes sank into mud and splashed through puddles as he crossed the driveway, and stared down into Leo’s dull eyes glaring up at him.
“What the hell are you doing?” Grant said, grabbing the bottle from Leo’s hand.
“Having a drink. Getting fresh air,” Leo said, belligerent annoyance in every word. “Oh, calm down, Grant. It’s just ginger brew, non-alcoholic, get a grip.”
Grant grabbed Leo by the arm and hauled him up. “No, you get a grip. It’s barely forty degrees out here, your immune system is compromised, your body is weak, and you’re drinking something that, while it isn’t alcohol, still isn’t any good for you. Leo, this pity-party needs to be over right now.”
Leo jerked his arm out of Grant’s grasp. “Oh? And you get to tell me what to do?”
Grant shook his head. “No. I get to tell you that you’re being an ass and that it’s not a very attractive trait.”
Leo sniffled and stared up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Oh, well, of course, because what really matters right now is how attractive I am to you. I should’ve known—”
Grant sighed, grabbed Leo by the arm again, and guided him more or less toward the door into the house. They were both freezing and wet, and Leo had dropped his umbrella, so now they were both soaked to the skin. Leo scuffled with him, though, refusing to enter.
“If you want to have a fight with me, let’s at least do it inside where it’s dry,” Grant barked.
“No,” Leo shook his head. “Lucky’s in there. Don’t want to scare her.”
Grant scoffed. “Oh, of course not. Like it won’t scare her when you’re hospitalized with an infection your body would have otherwise been able to fight off if you hadn’t submitted yourself to this ridiculous behavior tonight.”
Leo stared at him and then turned to open the kitchen door, stalking inside, leaving wet, dark muddy prints everywhere. Grant had empathy for the floor.
“Lucky!” Leo called out. “Dad!”
They both entered from the living room, Lucky already in her nightgown, and Chuck looking pretty tired and ready for bed himself, with a thick five o’clock shadow and sleepy eyes.
“Leo, Grant,” Chuck greeted, and then he did a double-take. “You two look like drowned rats. Did you forget your umbrellas? I’ll get you some towels. Just a minute.”
“You know, don’t bother, Dad,” Leo said, and Grant could see Chuck’s face register that there was something wrong. “Come on, Lucky,” Leo said. “It’s time for bed.”
Lucky face scrunched with confusion and she started to complain. “But, Dr. Grant just got here, and I wanted to—”
“It’s bedtime,” Leo snapped, rounding to the stairs. “Come on.”
Lucky looked at Leo, then at Grant, and she bit her lower lip. She glanced to Chuck who nodded his head at her, as though telling her to go on, and she ran past her dad and up the stairs fast without looking back. Leo followed her, stomping as he went.
“Rough night?” Chuck asked, resting his arm against the back of a kitchen chair.
“You could say that,” Grant replied, still staring at where Leo’s feet had disappeared up the runners, wondering where to go from here. Wondering if this called for that Say Anything move he’d been considering. But too angry and frustrated to even fully imagine it now. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and shook his head. “Ah, well, I guess I should be going. Tell Leo…hell, just tell him I left.”
“Oh, come on, you’re going to leave him just like that? I expected more from you.” Chuck’s gravelly voice was somehow tender in its scolding.
Grant took in Chuck’s rough hands and kind smile, his old blue jeans, and plaid shirt. He was a good old country man, and he’d done his best by Leo when he came out and continued to do so even now. That much Grant knew. So, as far as Grant was concerned, Chuck deserved a reply, even if he was being a little interfering now. “I’m not leaving him; I’m leaving his house. There’s a difference.”
Chuck s
ighed. “Look, I’m not going to try to tell you what to do. But, I know my son. I’ve watched him grow from a baby to a man, and I know him very well.”
Grant bit back the urge to demand that Chuck spare him the trip down memory lane to Leo’s diaper days. Chuck wasn’t to blame for the way the evening had gone down in flames, so taking his bad temper out on him would be fruitless and unkind. Besides, he wanted Chuck to like him, if only to make Leo happy.
“This is about Jennifer,” Chuck said.
Grant stuffed his hands into his wet pockets and nodded.
Chuck turned to a pantry on the left, opened it up, and pulled out a beach towel. “We keep these down here to use down at the pond in the summer,” Chuck said. “Here’s hoping it’s not mildewed.” He tossed it to Grant. “Dry off. Sit down and we’ll talk.”
“I don’t know. This is between me and Leo.”
“Not if it’s about Jennifer it’s not. It’s between Leo and his demons. I’m just offering you some insight. Take it or leave it.”
Grant glanced toward the door. He wasn’t sure how Leo would feel about him talking with Chuck about this, but he sat down at the table anyway. Chuck pulled out the chair across from Grant and sat down, too.
“So, Grant, I’ve had my eye on you.”
“Great, is this when you threaten me and show me your shotgun?”
Chuck smiled, but not necessarily with reassurance. “Not quite. This is when I tell you that in all the years that I’ve been Leo’s father I’ve never seen him as happy as he’s been lately. His illness, the stress he’s still facing with the separation from Curtis, none of that is coming close to breaking his stride. And I believe that’s because of you. I can’t say that I understand why—frankly, I find you a bit off-putting—but Leo is happy with you, and that’s all I give a damn about.”
Grant said, “Then we have the same goal.”
Chuck said, “I believe that we do.”
“So, Jennifer,” Grant prompted.
That was, after all, why he’d stayed. He needed a little more information about Leo and his relationship with Jennifer to fully understand what would bring Leo to this kind of break down. The temper fit in the restaurant was one thing, but sitting outside in the rain drinking an indulgent brew that would leave him sicker than he needed to be before his next dialysis was something else entirely.
Stay Lucky Page 12
