by Leta Blake
“You wouldn’t!” Alec said. “It’s only 40 degrees outside, and I didn’t bring a coat!”
“Here,” Grant said, thrusting one of his toward him. “I’ll throw in a cap, even.” He pulled a green knit beanie over Alec’s perfectly spritzed hair, leaving him looking surprised and a mess.
“Grant,” he said, struggling a little as Grant pulled open the front door of his apartment and shoved him out onto the open-air walk-up. “Grant!”
“A few minutes in the brisk night air will do you good. Sober you right up,” Grant said, slamming the door in Alec’s face.
“Don’t think I’ll forget this, Grant!” Alec yelled through the door. “Don’t think that I don’t know what this means! It means I’m right! It means you’re a goner! L-O-V-E! Love! I’m telling you!”
Grant leaned his forehead against the door and exhaled sharply.
“Triumph!” Alec yelled. “Of the human heart!”
Grant banged his head against the door in protest, and then slid in a heap to the floor. Outside, Alec sang the “kissing in a tree” song and other childish anthems of love.
Grant buried his face in his knees, breathing in and out slowly as the minutes dragged on. He knew when Dennis arrived because Alec yelled, “Darling! Guess who’s a total asshole when he’s in love?”
One thing was for sure: Grant needed to get a better best friend.
Chapter Four
As luck would have it—if Grant believed in luck, which given how his life had gone since basically birth, he didn’t—Leo was at the hospital the next day, walking through the halls with a nurse, looking tired and ill.
Grant stared after him until the nurse led Leo between double doors into the dialysis room. An urge to follow rose up in him, and he shoved it aside. Leo Garner didn’t need him. He had plenty of friends and family in Blountville. Besides, he was probably busy making new friends right this second with the nurses and the other dialysis patients. It took, after all, three to four long hours, three days a week to purge his blood of toxins. It sucked a lot of time out of a person’s schedule to have a failing body. And Leo was probably knee deep in ‘making the best of it.’ That seemed like something he’d try to do.
Grant shook his head.
As the doors swung shut behind Leo and the nurse, the weird breathless feeling passed. Grant decided that it was entirely reasonable to chalk it up to gas from the chili he’d eaten from the cafeteria for lunch. Truly, it was delicious, but the beans could make anyone a walking gas leak. Frowning, he blamed Alec for planting a seed that would allow him to think for even a moment that the feeling could be due to anything else.
He went back to his patient chart, trying to figure out what the words were saying, but instead he started thinking about this one guy back in medical school, a Dr. Wallace, who’d been a kidney guy, one of the best. He wondered if the idiot Dr. Muresan, the fool in charge of the renal unit at Appalachian Medical, would be willing to consult with Wallace on Leo’s case.
Grant had just made an about-face, prepared to go speak to Muresan himself, or possibly sneak another look at Leo’s chart, when Carrie Jones, the best nurse around in Grant’s opinion, nearly slammed into him, holding the hand of a little girl with messy, long brown hair and hazel eyes.
“Sorry, Dr. Anderson,” Carrie said, pushing a stray bit of hair back into her ponytail.
“Just watch where you’re going,” Grant said, irritably, taking his frustrations out on the wrong person, as he was far too prone to do.
“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 rude first. And I apologize.”
Carrie looked shocked.
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 help getting 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 cleanly removing the masses after so many hours and so much effort. 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 recon
sider 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. 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. 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 Hannah. 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. “Hannah, 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 during that family dinner you came to with me that one 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 anything of the sort. I just suspect it.”
“Wow.”
“Anyway, thanks,” Leo said, looking 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.”
“I figured. I planned to drop ’em by tonight. 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 who’s 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 for another, 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 hi
p 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 took 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?”
