“Well, I’d say you picked a great job, then.”
“Yeah.” A hint of a smile returned.
I thought about my career choices and how none of them were born out of love—well, not really. I went into business consultation for the money. I had a kid on the way and I had a mind for it, so consulting seemed like a good place to start. And it was. That job allowed our family to have a good start—a nice home, a stay-at-home mom for my kids, vacations, and nice cars. But a few months after Olivia died I realized I couldn’t be that same guy anymore. I wasn’t the go-to-work dad, who could come home to a meal on the table and freshly bathed children I could tickle and play with for an hour before bedtime. I was now mother and father. And even though I came into my new role in the worst way possible, I wouldn’t give it up. I would gladly take a job I didn’t even need a degree for if it meant I could watch my kids grow up, be there every step of the way, and see every gruesome and wonderful moment.
So even though I didn’t necessarily take the job at my dad’s store out of love for the career, I took it out of love for my kids and needing to make that change for all of us.
We ordered our meals and I tried to steer clear of topics that would take the smile off her face again.
Grace was on her second glass of wine and the new rosy color of her cheeks only made her more attractive. The food had come and gone, dessert had been shared, and even though we could have made it to the movie, neither one of us moved to leave. I was enjoying her too much to risk ruining it by sitting in a dark room where I couldn’t even look at her. From my seat across a small table, I could watch her smile, listen to her laugh, and study the way her expressive eyebrows gave more away about her than her words did sometimes. I could watch the way she absentmindedly moved her hand through hair that looked incredibly soft, only to watch it fall right back into place, framing her face.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and when I pulled it out I noticed the time and my mother’s number. I figured the kids wanted to say good night before my mom put them to bed.
“I should take this,” I said with apology in my voice. She just smiled in reply and took another sip of her wine. “Hey, Mom,” I said, speaking through my own smile.
“Devon, I’m really sorry to call and interrupt, but Ruby’s pretty sick and I need to know what you want me to do about it.”
“What do you mean she’s sick?” The smile disappeared from my face, quickly replaced with a furrowed brow and concern burning in my chest.
“She’s been sick since about twenty minutes after you dropped them off. She said her stomach ached, then she just started throwing up. She’s vomiting every ten to fifteen minutes. Her body is trying to work something out of her system, but vomiting at this rate for three hours? She’ll be severely dehydrated if we can’t get some fluids in her, and every time I make her take a sip of water, she just gets sick again. I think she needs to go to the ER to get an IV.”
“Shit,” I whispered, partly upset my mom had to deal with my sick child, but mostly upset I wasn’t there with Ruby when she was so sick. I’d come to learn that 90 percent of parenting was dealing with guilt.
“Can we get a check?” I heard Grace ask our waiter, and I was grateful she understood our date was effectively over.
I used one hand to throw some bills on the table, then shove my wallet back in my pocket and stand up.
“I’ll be there soon. Just hang tight and I’ll come get her.”
“Devon, I can handle a sick child. You don’t have to cut your date short.”
I appreciated what my mom was doing, but I couldn’t stay out with Grace knowing Ruby was so sick.
“I know you can, Mom, but I’m her dad. This is my job. Your job is to feed them sugar and send them home crazy. Don’t worry about my date. There will be more. I’ll be there soon. Tell Ruby to hang in there.” We said our good-byes and then I hung up, shoving my phone in my pocket as well.
“Ruby’s sick?” Grace’s voice was soft and full of worry.
“Yeah,” I said with a sigh, watching as she stood and draped the strap of her purse over one bare shoulder. Was it a bad time to notice the sexy dusting of freckles there? Like she’d spent a lot of summers in the sun as she grew up. “This is how Ruby’s body operates. She hardly ever gets sick, but when she does, her whole body shuts down and she goes from fine to really sick in just a few hours.”
“Oh no,” she whispered as we walked out of the restaurant and toward my car.
“I’m really sorry,” I said as I backed out of my spot. “I was having a really great time. I’ll drop you off really quick.”
“You don’t have to drop me off,” she responded with quick words. “If Ruby is as sick as you say, you need to go get her.”
“I’ll probably just be going straight to the ER. Trust me, with a vomiting child—the fewer stops the better.”
“Devon, go get her. Getting her to the doctor is most important. We’ll figure everything else out later.”
I stared at her. The rosiness was gone from her cheeks, worry now present in her eyes, and I couldn’t believe she was begging to help take my child to the emergency room.
“Okay,” I said on a breath, then turned the car toward my parents’ house.
I opened the door to my parents’ house and was greeted by the familiar sound of Ruby groaning in agony. Then came unmistakable sound of retching. I raced into the living room, trying to prepare myself for what was coming. Sick kids were the worst. Not only were they helpless, but they made you feel helpless too. As a rational adult, I knew sickness passed and eventually I’d start to feel better. Kids lacked that little nugget of common sense and all sicknesses were akin to dying slowly.
“Daddy,” Ruby moaned as my mom wiped her mouth with a washcloth. “I don’t feel well.”
“I see that, baby.” I knelt in front of her and put my hand to her forehead.
“She doesn’t have a fever,” my mom supplied kindly, her voice full of worry and concern. “She just said her stomach hurt, wouldn’t eat dinner, and then….”
“Okay,” I said, offering my mother a poor excuse for a smile.
“Miss Richards,” Jax yelled, shooting off my father’s recliner and wrapping his arms around Grace’s thighs in an enthusiastic hug.
“Hey, Jax. It’s good to see you.”
“Are you coming to the hospital with us?”
“That’s the plan,” Grace said with an exhale.
“Hello, there,” my mom said, in a tone that let me know immediately that she knew Grace was my date and I was interested in her.
“Mom,” I said coolly, “this is Grace. Grace, my mother, Carolyn.”
“It’s nice to see you again,” Grace said, reaching her hand out to my mom, leaving her other hand on Jaxy’s back since he was still hugging her. I gave her a puzzled look and she explained. “We met at parent-teacher conferences a while ago.”
“Oh, right,” I said, my brain to occupied by Ruby to put all the pieces together.”
“You can leave Jaxy here, Devon. There’s no reason to take him to the emergency room.” My mother’s words broke through my mental fog.
“I want to go with Miss Richards,” Jaxy whined.
“Why is Jaxy’s teacher here?” Ruby asked, sounding absolutely miserable.
“She just came to help. She’s going to sit with Jaxy while we take you to see the doctor.” I could tell Ruby didn’t buy my story. She was eleven, not five. But before she could ask me anything else, another round of sickness overcame her.
Chapter Nine
Grace
Jax and I had managed to play at least thirty games of tic-tac-toe, made countless paper airplanes, and eventually I convinced him to stretch out on the little couch with a blanket I had asked a nurse to get for him. He begged me to sit with him, and as I’d learned being his teacher, when Jaxy was sweet and wanted something, it was hard to deny him.
His head was on my lap, his blond hair starkly contrasting against t
he blue of my dress, and his little body was cocooned by the itchy cotton blanket anyone could identify as belonging in a hospital. I’d managed to keep him away from all the other patients, sequestering us at the far end of the waiting room, trying to keep him as germ free as one could be in the emergency room.
Devon had been back in a room with Ruby for hours and I’d heard not one peep. I hadn’t expected any updates, really, but I was left wondering if everything was going all right and if Ruby was sicker than perhaps Devon had originally thought. As the minutes ticked by I became more and more concerned.
I busied myself by threading my fingers through Jax’s hair. Hair that was impossibly soft. His mouth was open just slightly and tiny snores were coming from him. It was the sweetest thing I’d ever witnessed.
I heard the motorized sound of the doors opening, and when I looked up I saw Devon walking toward us, Ruby by his side. She was no longer in the clothes she’d worn in, but instead was wearing what looked like two hospital gowns: one on the right way—opening in the back—and the other on backward so it looked more like a robe.
Seeing the two of them walking side by side only made Devon’s height more apparent. I knew he was tall—over six feet, easily—but next to Ruby he looked even more massive. Somewhat like a gentle giant, his hand resting on Ruby’s shoulder, looking like it was there for equal parts comfort for Ruby and protection by Devon. He was taking care of her.
“They’ve finally released us,” he said as he came to a halt in front of us. I watched as his eyes swept over Jax’s sleeping form and suddenly I felt self-conscious that I’d let him fall asleep on my lap.
“He was tired.” I winced inwardly at the stupidity of my words—of course he was tired.
“Thank you for helping out tonight.” The sincerity in his voice caused my gaze to meet his and my heart lurched a little. Devon looked exhausted, but he also looked grateful.
“My pleasure.” I moved to wake up Jax, but Devon stopped me.
“I’ve got it,” he said, just before he slid his arm between Jax’s head and my leg. The brush of his skin against me did stupid things to my heart rate, especially when I silently told myself he was just picking up his son. Effortlessly, I might add. Just swooped right down there and picked up his eight-year-old like he weighed nothing. I gently pulled the blanket off Jax and followed Devon and Ruby toward the exit. I placed the loosely folded blanket on the admin desk and gave the nurse there a smile as we passed.
“How are you feeling, Ruby?” I asked as we approached the car.
“Tired,” she responded, not unkindly, but definitely as if she was exhausted and couldn’t put together more than that one-word answer. I couldn’t blame her. I was tired too.
We all loaded into the car, Devon buckling Jax into his booster seat while Jax mumbled in his sleepy state. Once Devon was in his seat he looked over at me, giving me a defeated smile. Before I could stop myself I reached over and gave his leg a squeeze, trying to tell him with one action that everything was all right. That just because the date didn’t go as planned, it didn’t mean I was pulling away.
“I just want to go to sleep,” Ruby said, interrupting the moment that passed between Devon and me. I swiped my hand off his leg and watched as he turned around, his large frame filling so much of the car.
“I know, baby,” he said softly. “But I’ve got to take Grace home and we have to stop at the drug store real quick to get you some Gatorade and your medicine.”
“But I’m tired,” Ruby whined, the utter desperation in her voice breaking my heart.
“Devon, this is silly. Go home. I can get a cab.”
“You’re not taking a cab, Grace.”
“It’s not a big deal. Ruby needs to go to bed.” He looked like he didn’t know how to make the right decision, as if he were torn between two bad choices.
“Ruby will be fine for another thirty minutes,” he said, pulling out of the parking lot.
I looked back at her and I knew that even if she would be fine, she wasn’t fine at that moment. She looked sick and exhausted, and all I wanted, more than anything, was to take her home and let her go to bed.
“How about we all go back to your place, then I’ll take your car and run your errands. I don’t mind,” I pleaded. Something inside me needed to help, to do something to make Ruby’s pain go away. A part of me ached to nurture her any way I could.
“You’re not going to run my errands,” he said, just as stubborn as before.
“Okay, then let me stay with the kids while you run the errands. She needs to go home.” I watched as his eyes moved to the rearview mirror, assessing Ruby, then Jax.
“If we take them home, then we’re there all night,” he said quietly, so that only I could hear him. “I won’t be able to take you home until the morning.”
“I don’t mind,” I said insistently, trying to communicate, again, that I wanted to help.
He searched my eyes for just a moment, then finally responded with a resigned, “All right.”
By the time we pulled up to his house, both kids were fast asleep. But as soon as the engine turned off, Jax’s eyes opened and he sat up straight.
“Are we home?” he asked, his voice rough and sleepy.
“Yeah, bud. Can you walk yourself into the house?” Devon asked. Jax nodded in response and pushed open his door. Ruby, on the other hand, was out cold.
I watched as Devon managed to pick Ruby up and carry her in the house. I followed them in and took a seat on the couch, observing as he quietly and efficiently put Ruby to bed and then helped Jax brush his teeth and go to bed as well. When he emerged from Jax’s room, shutting the door slowly to minimize the sound of it latching into place, he made his way toward me in the living room.
I sat on the couch just staring at him, waiting for whatever he had planned next. There was a coffee table between us, but I could see most of him. His hands were braced on his hips, his head hung low, shoulders slumped. He looked just as exhausted as the children had. But then his head came up and he caught my gaze.
“You sure you’re all right hanging out here for a few while I run to the store?”
I tried really hard to hold in my sigh of relief that he was going to allow me to help him. “Yes. Totally and completely all right.”
He pulled his car keys out of his pocket, then ran his other hand through his hair. “When I get back I’ll get you set up in my room and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
I nodded, knowing full well I wasn’t going to kick him out of his bed, but I wasn’t about to argue with him about it in that moment.
“Feel free to watch TV. The remotes are right here on the coffee table. The bathroom is just down the hall, there’s stuff in the fridge if you get hungry or thirsty—”
“Devon, I’ll be fine. The kids will be fine. I promise.”
“Yeah, okay,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I watched him walk to the door, giving me a short wave before he shut it behind him, then I sat in his dark living room. It only took a few minutes before I started yawning, so I stood up and tried to walk around to keep myself awake. I walked down the hallway, peeking into the kids’ rooms, checking to make sure they were still sleeping peacefully.
After I’d done a few laps around the darkened house, I finally decided to lie on the couch and read a book on my phone.
When I woke, it took me a moment to remember I was in Devon’s house, but it became clear very quickly. I didn’t even have to move my head to see the giant portrait of his wife hanging on the wall.
She was beautiful. She looked a lot like Ruby. I could even see a little Jax in her. But, God, she was stunning. Laughing in the shot, presumably unaware of the camera, with strands of pearls dripping through her fingers.
I tore my eyes from her, trying to push down the irrational jealousy. I would not be jealous of a woman who lost her life to cancer. What kind of person would that make me? I pushed the blanket off me, then realize
d I hadn’t fallen asleep with a blanket. Warmth flooded me thinking about Devon draping a blanket over me in the middle of the night.
Sitting up, I took in the rest of the house that I hadn’t really paid attention to the night before.
The house was nice and it looked homey. The furniture looked worn, as if people lounged on it often. The coffee table wasn’t perfectly lined up with the couch, which wasn’t perfectly lined up with the accent rug underneath, which only made me think that things were thrown off kilter as children ran by. I pictured Ruby chasing Jax, his side catching on the couch as he ran from her, knocking it a few inches, and nobody coming by to fix it. There were a few toys scattered around, a few books that looked to be Ruby’s, and just general life litter: mail, shoes, jackets. There was no coatrack, so the coats were hanging over the chairs.
It wasn’t messy—it was lived in.
Standing, I noticed the mantel had many more pictures of Olivia, only these were photos of her with her family, and I couldn’t help the smile that came over my face, the deep and hollow feeling that settled in my gut, or the frown that came with feeling two warring emotions at once.
I found the bathroom and on my way back out I practically ran into Ruby.
“Oh my goodness,” I said, hand to my chest, breaths coming hard and fast. “You scared me.”
“I didn’t know you were here.” Ruby’s tone landed somewhere between apologetic and accusatory.
“I fell asleep while your dad was getting your meds.” For some reason, it felt as though I was trying to explain to my father why I’d missed curfew.
Ruby watched me for a few more moments, still at the threshold of the bathroom. “I’m hungry,” she finally said, her voice softer, and my shoulders sagged as the tension between us melted away.
“Well, I think it would be good to let your daddy sleep for a bit, so how about I make you breakfast?”
The Presence of Grace (Love and Loss #2) Page 7
