by Terri DuLong
I leaned over to hug my mother and kissed her cheek. “Be a good patient. I love you,” I told her, and was glad she returned my hug quickly and allowed my father to take her arm, because I could feel my eyes filling with tears.
I walked into the waiting area and found a seat isolated from the groups of people. I had brought some knitting in a tote bag, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus on my sock pattern.
I glanced across to an elderly woman, who gave me a smile. “There’s a coffee machine over there,” she said, pointing to a counter along one of the walls.
“Oh, thank you,” I told her, standing up. “Can I get you a cup?”
“No, dear. I’ve had my quota for this morning.”
I returned with my coffee and shot her a smile. “Is your husband in surgery?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so, dear. Yours too?”
I shook my head. “No, my mother.”
“It doesn’t matter who it is, it’s always difficult. This may sound silly,” she said, and brought a tissue to her eyes, “But tonight . . . it will be the first time in sixty-eight years that I won’t be sleeping with my husband.”
I jumped up to sit beside her and patted her hand. “It’s not silly at all. I don’t imagine that you’ll sleep very well,” I told her.
“No, I don’t think that I will.”
Both of us remained silent, lost in our own thoughts.
After a few minutes she stood and patted my hand. “I think I need some fresh air. If I don’t see you again, I wish you the best.”
“Same to you.”
I watched her leave and did a double take as I saw a man enter the waiting area, scan the room, and catch my eye.
I jumped up. “Grant?” I ran toward him as his arms opened to envelop me. “What on earth are you doing here?”
He laughed and kissed my cheek. “Surprise! You didn’t think I’d let you go through this alone, did you?”
“When . . . how . . .” My thoughts were an incoherent mess, and he laughed again, leading me to a quiet area of the room.
“I flew down late last night.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re here. Wait until Orli finds out.”
A grin covered his face. “Our daughter already knows. She and your parents were in on the surprise.”
I reached for his hand and then gave it a squeeze. “Thank you. Thank you for coming.” Until that moment I hadn’t realized how alone I had felt.
“Your mom’s gone to surgery?”
“Yeah, my dad is with her in the holding area. He’ll be back here shortly.”
“She’s going to be okay, Josie.”
Hearing him say the words made me feel better.
My father found us a little while later. “Ah, you made it,” he told Grant, giving him a hug. “Got in all right last night?”
“Yes, it was a good flight. I got the rental car and made it to the hotel by eleven.”
“Is Mom okay?”
“A little nervous, but she’ll be fine. She was already pretty drowsy when I left her. Let’s find the cafeteria and get some breakfast. It’s going to be at least three hours till we hear anything.”
It was just past noon when I looked up and saw Dr. Girone walking toward us. The three of us jumped up as if we were one person.
He extended his hand to my father. “Shelby is in recovery. The surgery went well, and she should be back in her room in about an hour. I’ll meet you there at that time.”
“Thank you,” my father told him, and I heard the sigh escape his lips.
I gave my father a hug and patted his back. “Okay, let’s go get some coffee and then we’ll head to Mom’s room.”
We arrived just as they had transferred her into her bed. She was awake but groggy. My father went to her side, taking her hand and kissing her cheek.
“Dr. Girone said the surgery went well and he’ll be in here shortly to talk with us.”
She nodded and forced a smile. “Is Josie here? Where’s Josie?”
“Right here, Mom,” I said, going to the other side of the bed and reaching for her hand. “You did great.”
She smiled again, and I could tell she was fighting to keep her eyes open. “Is Grant here?”
“Right here,” he said, coming to stand behind me as he put a hand on my shoulder.
Her smile increased and she nodded. “Good.”
A few minutes later, Dr. Girone entered the room with a nurse.
“You did very well, Shelby. I don’t like to speak too soon, but from what I can tell right now, I don’t think you’ll need radiation or chemo. I’ll know more in ten days when I get the path report back.”
“Oh, thank God,” I whispered, and the flood of tears that I’d held back all morning was released as I felt Grant’s arms go around me.
“That sounds like good news,” my mother said.
A huge smile covered my father’s face. “It certainly does.”
“Okay, then.” Dr. Girone patted my mother’s arm. “The nurses will be coming in to check on you, and Mr. Sullivan, you indicated you’d like to spend the night here with your wife, so later this evening they’ll bring in a cot for you. And if you do as well as I think you will, you’ll probably be released to go home tomorrow evening. I’ll see you before you’re discharged.”
“Thank you,” my parents said at the same time.
I went back to my mother’s bedside. “Are you in pain? Do you need anything for discomfort?”
“No, I’m fine at the moment. Josie, I’m going to be dozing most of the day. Why don’t you and Grant go home? You can call your father later to check on me.”
I looked at Grant and saw him nod. Leaning over, I kissed my mother’s cheek. “Okay. I have to call Chloe and give her the good news so she can let everybody know.” I went to kiss my dad and noticed that the worried expression from that morning had disappeared. “I’ll call you later, and make sure you eat.”
“Will do,” he said.
We arrived back on the island by late afternoon, and that was when I wondered where Grant planned to stay during his visit.
He was just pulling up to my house when I asked, “Did you book a room somewhere?”
“Oh . . . ah . . . no. Actually, I need to do that.”
He turned off the ignition, and I looked over to see an uncomfortable expression on his face.
“Well . . . no. You really don’t have to. I mean, that would be silly. You’ve come all the way down here . . . and we do have a guest room.”
“Are you sure?”
I paused for one brief second. “I’m sure,” I said, and headed to the front door.
“Coffee?” I asked, going to the kitchen just as my cell phone rang.
“Sounds good,” Grant said, taking a stool at the counter.
It was Orli on the phone. I had called her from the hospital with the good news. She was grateful and happy about her grandmother but also found it humorous that Grant had managed to surprise me.
“I was wondering if it would be okay if I stayed at Laura’s again tonight, but I was going to come home to see Dad and get a few things.”
“Sure, that’s fine,” I told her as I filled the coffee carafe with water. My devious mind now wondered if perhaps Grant’s staying here alone with me was part of the plan as well.
39
Orli had just left to return to Laura’s with fresh clothes, and Grant and I were finishing up our coffee when I heard Mallory coming through the front door.
“It’s me,” she called, and came into the kitchen to pull me into her arms. “I’m so happy about the good news.”
I noticed that her hug was extratight, and when she pulled away I saw the tears in her eyes. “We’re all so happy! My mother is planning to visit next week. She was so worried. We were all worried. My mom called the rest of the Sisters to let them know what’s going on. God, listen to me, I’m rambling.” She let out a laugh. “Hey, Grant. Good to see you
.”
Grant and I both laughed. “How about some coffee? Looks like you could use more of a jolt.”
Mallory wiped at her eyes and chuckled. “God, I was such a wreck, but I didn’t want to say that to you.”
That’s what a good friend does, I thought. Hides her own fears.
I passed Mallory a coffee mug. “I think she’s going to be okay, but we’ll know more when she sees the doctor in ten days.”
She sat down to join Grant and me at the counter and took a gulp of coffee. “You were so strong, Josie. I don’t know how you did it. I would have fallen apart completely if it had been my mother.”
I smiled and shook my head. “No, Mallory, you wouldn’t have. I know you as well as you know me.”
She waved a hand in the air. “Well, I’m just so glad this is behind us. Oh, hey, my mother said that Mags wants to plan a get-together for the five of them.”
“Really? Like a trip somewhere?”
“No, a gathering here. On the island. Mags called it a celebration of life and said she’ll organize all of it. And you and I are invited.”
I let out a chuckle. “Oh, Lord. They’re going to allow us into their inner sanctum?”
“Guess so. They must think we’re big girls now.” She placed her mug in the sink. “So how long are you staying, Grant?”
“I’m booked to fly back next Wednesday.”
I didn’t realize this. I’d assumed he’d probably return to Boston in a day or so.
“Well, great. You and Josie will have to come for dinner one evening. Where’re you staying?”
He remained silent for a moment, shot a glance at me, and said, “Ah . . . right here. Josie offered her guest room.”
Mallory’s gaze went from me to Grant. “Oh . . . I see. Well, listen, I need to get going. You guys take care, have fun, and Josie, call me and we’ll confirm for dinner.”
Her wink and smile as she left didn’t escape me, or the fact that she’d shown no surprise at Grant being in town.
“So,” I said, suddenly feeling awkward. “We need to think about dinner. I did defrost some steak before I left yesterday.”
“Sounds great. I’ll fire up the grill.”
I watched Grant head out to the patio and felt my heart turn over. An insignificant task—a man about to cook steak. But it wasn’t that—it was everything. It was the fact that he’d always allowed me to grow and become the person I was meant to be. It was his loyalty and continued caring. It was that he’d left everything in Boston to fly down here and be with me when he knew I most needed him. It was his eternal and everlasting love for me. And in that moment I knew without a doubt that Grant was everything to me and that Mallory had been right. I had loved Grant from the moment that I’d met him. The only difference now was the fact that I was mature enough to realize it.
I smiled as I began preparing a salad. Grant had gotten the grill going and was staring through the French doors at me. Our eyes met and locked, and my smile grew wider before I pulled my gaze back to the salad. A minute later he walked into the kitchen.
“How about some wine?” he said.
“Perfect. I have a nice Beaujolais in the wine rack. Is rice pilaf okay with you?”
“Sounds good. I have the grill on low, so just let me know when you want me to put the steaks on.”
“You can start them in about twenty minutes.” I watched him uncork the wine and took the glass he offered me.
“Here’s to life,” he said, lifting his glass and touching mine. “And to your mother’s recovery.”
I nodded. “And . . . here’s to you and me.”
He stared at me, paused for a second, and said, “I’ll drink to that.”
I joined him at the counter, and staring at his face I realized that Grant had aged well over the years. Except for a bit of gray at his temples, he didn’t look much different from the man I’d met at the coffee shop years before—the man I’d fallen in love with.
I took a sip of wine and then asked, “Has Orli said any more about wanting to finish her senior year with you?”
He shook his head. “No. Not a word.” He reached across the counter and took my hand. “You know, Josie, I won’t go against you. If you’d rather she stay here, I’ll back you on that.”
I nodded. I knew he would. “It’s up to Orli. It’s not fair of me to deny her this experience if that’s what she wants, but thank you for your support.”
Grant cleared his throat before asking, “So how’s it going with you and Simon? Are you still dating?”
I let out a chuckle. “Oh, I’m not sure dating is the right term. He’s a good friend. A nice person and pleasant to work for. But . . . beyond that . . .” I shook my head. “No. There’s no romantic interest on my part. Oh, shit,” I said as a thought occurred to me.
“What is it?”
“Damn. I just remembered . . . I invited Simon for dinner on Monday.”
“Oh. Why would you do that if you’re not interested in him?”
“We’re having an open house at the office. So people in town can come and meet him without faking a sickness to do so.”
Grant laughed. “Did they really?”
“They really did, so I suggested we have an open house, which will be at the end of the month. We’re working on the list for food and trying to get it organized. I asked Simon to dinner so we could discuss it. But now . . . well . . .”
“Ah, now I understand. I’m staying here and you think that might create a problem?”
I nodded.
“Nah, not a problem at all. I look forward to meeting Simon.”
I was afraid he’d say that.
“Can I refill your glass?” Grant asked as I curled up at one end of the sofa.
“Yes, thanks. That steak was cooked to perfection.”
“It was a good dinner. I enjoyed it too,” he said, passing me my glass.
I took a sip and let out a deep sigh. “This is nice,” I told him.
I had called my father earlier, and he said my mother was doing well and resting comfortably. If she was doing as well in the morning, she’d be able to come home the next evening. A sense of contentment came over me; all was right in my world.
Grant reached for my ankle and began massaging it. “It is, and you look the most relaxed I’ve seen you in a while.”
I put the wineglass on the coffee table and scooted next to him. His arm went around my shoulder.
“I am,” I said softly, and raised my face to his. “I also feel like I’ve turned a corner.”
He reached for my hand and brought it to his lips. “In which way?”
The surge of desire that I’d felt at Grant’s condo was returning. “Remember when you mentioned timing at your place? You said you didn’t think the timing was right?”
He nodded before placing his lips on mine. What began as a flicker quickly turned to a deep and passionate kiss. As I felt his hands on my body, I knew in my soul that I loved Grant. I had always loved Grant. And I always would.
“That timing,” I whispered as I pulled my lips away from his. “That timing is finally . . . perfect.”
I stood and reached out my hand. “I want you, Grant. I want you to make love to me.”
As he clasped my hand and followed me to the bedroom, I also knew in my soul that Estelle Fletcher had been spot on—the love I felt for Grant Cooper had really been inside of me all along.
40
I woke the following morning the way I’d fallen asleep—curled in Grant’s arms, my head on his chest. I felt the smile that covered my face as I recalled the previous evening of lovemaking. Sex had never been a problem with us, and after sixteen years it had proved to be even better. Grant was a passionate and giving lover. A man who not only received pleasure but easily returned it.
I felt him stir and pulled away to stare at his handsome face.
He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered.
“Good morning to
you. Sleep well?”
“The best,” he said as I felt his hand slide down my thigh.
“Oh, hey, our daughter could be coming in the door any minute.”
“And your point is?” he asked as he pulled me closer.
Whatever my point had been quickly vanished in the heat of the moment.
An hour later I was still curled up in Grant’s arms, relishing the emotion of what we had just shared again, when I heard the front door slam and Orli’s voice calling, “Mom, I’m home.”
I leaped out of bed, searching for my nightgown, and caught the grin on Grant’s face.
“What? You think this is humorous?”
He let out a chuckle but did get up and begin putting on his jeans. “Josie, really? I think Orli has a complete understanding of how she came to be.”
“Yeah . . . well . . .” I flung my nightgown over my head and reached for my robe. “Whatever. Maybe you should stay in here until she goes into her room.”
“Right, and you think she won’t notice that the guest room bed wasn’t slept in?”
“Damn,” I said, and heard the knock on my door.
“Mom? Are you awake?”
“I’ll be right out,” I called, and heard my voice crack.
“Okay, just wanted to let you know I’m back.”
I let out a deep breath, ran a hand through my hair, and shot Grant a withering glance before leaving the room.
Walking into the kitchen, I saw Orli preparing the coffeemaker.
“Oh, thanks,” I said as I placed a kiss on her cheek.
“I thought Dad was staying here last night,” she said, and then I saw her gaze shift behind me.
I turned to see Grant emerging from my bedroom.
“Oh.” She let out a giggle. “I guess he did stay here. Good morning, Dad.”
Grant walked over to Orli, placed a kiss on her cheek, and said, “Good morning, sunshine. Ah, coffee brewing. Well done.”
“How’s Nana?” she asked as if we were the typical American family enjoying morning conversation while I stood in my kitchen feeling like a naughty teenager.
I cleared my throat and nodded. “Fine. She’s fine. I spoke to Grandpa last evening, and it looks like she’ll be able to come home later today.”
