“This is an emergency. I need an ambulance right away. I think my grandmother’s having a stroke.”
Then, she called downstairs to Rocky at the door, to alert him. And she phoned Ruth’s doctor. “Get her to the hospital as fast as possible. I’ll make a call,” Dr. Cohen said.
The next hour was like a movie in fast forward. The ambulance arrived in ten minutes. Rocky sent them up right away. Ruth and Brooke described the symptoms to the EMT’s, who put her on the stretcher and whisked her away. Brooke rode along, holding Nan’s hand the whole time. She can’t die. She can’t. No, no, she can’t die.
At the hospital, Nan was wheeled into a back room and attended to immediately. Brooke had read up on strokes. She knew the symptoms and that you had to respond quickly to give the victim the best chance of recovery. When Nan was moved out of emergency and put in a room, Brooke camped out in a chair, watching over her grandmother, available to help when needed.
The next two days were crazy. Brooke slept on a cot in Ruth’s hospital room and ran home to walk the pugs three times a day. Sometimes, she forgot to eat. She called Harry and Bess. Unable to reach Pres, she simply sent him a text that Nan had had a stroke.
The Dinner Club ladies, along with Rocky, took over walking the dogs. Harry alerted the seniors.
Nan’s stroke had been caught early. It was an ischemic stroke, caused by a blood clot. The doctors were able to dissolve the clot, enabling Ruth to regain some of the abilities she’d lost, like speech. But her left side was still weak. Plans were made to send her to rehab then to an independent living facility. Brooke didn’t want Nan to move out, but knew she couldn’t give her grandmother the care she needed.
When Nan came home, Brooke arranged for physical therapy and some nursing care. Working with a social worker, Brooke made arrangements to move Nan to the Hudson Apartments. She was fortunate to find a vacancy. Nan would start in assisted living then move up to an apartment, when she was able to be on her own.
Brooke took her grandmother via taxi to a rehab facility about forty blocks away every other day. The work was hard, but Nan had a good attitude. She needed a wheelchair now, but the doctors predicted she would be walking normally in a few months. They assured Brooke that Nan had a good chance of recovering enough to be independent again.
Brooke met with Mike to discuss all the legalities that went along with checking Nan into the facility and making Brooke her guardian and executor. Papers were signed. Clothes were packed up. Brooke arranged Nan’s things in her room while the older woman gave instructions.
Nan was stoic, but her granddaughter knew she was afraid. Brooke reassured her she’d visit every day. She regretted that she couldn’t care for her grandmother properly and give her the therapy she needed at home. She hugged Nan, who clung to her for a moment longer. A lump formed in Brooke’s throat, and tears threatened when she headed for the door. Don’t cry, you’ll upset her. Turning her grandmother over to strangers wasn’t easy. What would my mom do? What else can I do? Nana, I want to take you home.
She slumped down into the backseat of a taxi, her eyelids heavy. Her heart hurt. Fear iced her veins as the concept of her grandmother’s mortality became real. She’d never thought about going on without her beloved Nan, and the idea chilled her to her soul. During the trip south, a thousand frightening scenarios swirled through her mind.
Will we have to sell the apartment to pay for Nan’s new home? Where will I live? What about the dinner and a movie group? If Nan sells the apartment, I’ll be on the street again. What will I do if she dies?
Before ten minutes was up, the cab had pulled to the curb, and Rocky was opening the door. Brooke braced herself to elbow through the crowd in the lobby of her building. Who are all these people? A gas leak and they’re evacuating the building? The dogs! Before she could panic, she looked around and recognized faces. Harry pushed through the crowd to greet her.
“Oh, crap! It’s Friday night!” Her hand flew to her mouth. She had totally forgotten about the guests coming for dinner and a movie.
“Don’t worry, don’t worry. We brought Chinese and Mrs. Doubtfire. Thought you could use a good meal and a laugh.”
It took several seconds for Brooke to process the fact that the seniors were there to help. “Harry, did you organize this?”
He blushed and gazed at his shoes. “Thought you could use a friend.”
Brooke hugged him. Tears she couldn’t cry before streamed down her face. She fell into his arms.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart. We’re here. Everything’s going to be okay. Ruth’ll recover. She’s strong. You’ll see.” Brooke indulged in a few more moments of comfort in Harry’s embrace before she faced the crowd.
“We didn’t know exactly what you like,” Mary said. “So, we got some of everything.”
Together, they went upstairs. The pugs greeted everyone at the door. The seniors knew where everything went, so they set up the Chinese buffet in the dining room. White cartons were opened and the aroma of pepper steak, sweet and sour shrimp, Mu Shu pork, and other Chinese delights filled the air.
Harry’s grandson, Mike, was there to handle the DVD player. They insisted Brooke sit in the best chair and do nothing. John handed her a glass of Cabernet, and she sat back and let them do the work. Despite her situation, she couldn’t stop smiling.
* * * *
After a discussion on the phone with Mike about Nan’s future, they moved on to Brooke’s case. She sat back on the sofa, curling her feet underneath. Freddy joined her, resting his head on her leg. Buddy was at her feet.
“That jerk you used to work for wants to settle.”
“Yeah?”
“He’s making a reasonable offer. A job in the London office, to make up for the one you lost here, or one-hundred eighty grand, equivalent to three year’s salary.”
Brooke was silent.
“Brooke? You still there?”
“I’m here.”
“What do you want to do?”
“What do you suggest?”
“I don’t know anything about your life. You have to decide. But if you’re not dating anyone, personally, I’d sure love it if you stayed in New York.”
“Thanks, Mike. I don’t know if I’m dating anyone. Do I have to decide now?”
“Take your time. Let this bastard twist in the wind for a few days. Won’t hurt him. Call me when you know what you want to do.”
Brooke closed her phone. She petted Freddy and sipped a cup of tea. Pres, where are you? What’s going on? When are you coming back? Are you coming back? With a deep sigh, she pushed to her feet and grabbed her purse. It was time for a visit to her grandmother. With a heavy heart, she entered the lobby. Rocky flagged down a taxi. Brooke didn’t relish telling Nan she had to sell the apartment.
Nan was glad to see her. The older woman had more color in her cheeks. She walked slowly with a walker, but, obviously in a good mood, she smiled at Brooke. They sat in the sunroom on the first floor. Brooke made tea for them then joined Nan on a loveseat. Putting her arm around her grandmother’s shoulders, Brooke gave her a hug.
“I’ve met with my lawyer, Mike…you remember, Harry’s son? We’ve gone over finances and such. We have to sell the apartment to keep you here, Nan.”
“Sell? No.” She shook her head.
“That’ll bring in enough money to pay for this place. You need to be here.”
“Not forever.”
“It’s lovely here. We can fix up your apartment with some of your furniture. They said we could paint whatever color we want.”
“What about you? This is only a one-bedroom. Where will you live?”
“I’ve got some choices.”
“What choices?” Nan trained a stern look on her granddaughter. “Don’t bullshit me, now. Give me the truth. Are you moving in with Pres? Where is he, anyway?”
“He’s still in California.”
“That would be my wish for you. But I suppose nobody’s asked me.” Nan smiled.
“Don’t worry about me. Let’s take care of you first.”
“But I do worry about you.”
“Mike got those creeps from my ad agency to settle.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“They’re offering me a hundred eighty grand or a job in their London office.”
“You’re moving to London?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“What about your dinner and a movie business?”
“We don’t have to sell for a year. There’s enough money to cover your costs until then.”
“So, you’ll continue?”
“Of course. I love it. You know that.”
Nan grinned. “You have a ton of fans.”
“They’ve been amazing.”
Nan patted her hand. “Your mother and father would be so proud of you.”
Tears stung Brooke’s eyes.
“Thank you for taking over, getting everything done,” Nan said.
“You don’t mind it here, do you?” Brooke’s brow creased.
Nan sipped her tea. “I don’t have your cooking, but it’s okay. I have some nice tablemates. The room is fine. I do miss Freddy and Ginger.”
“As soon as you get the okay, I’m bringing you home for a visit.”
“Can you bring the dogs next time you come? They’re allowed here.”
“Of course. I know they miss you, too.”
“Stop avoiding the subject. What about Pres?” Nan narrowed her eyes.
“He’s fine, I guess.”
“You guess?” Nan shot a sharp look at Brooke. “What’s going on?”
“We haven’t kept in touch, lately.”
“Damn. You’re not splitting up, are you?”
Brooke looked down at her hands. “I don’t know what we’re doing.”
“Poor baby.” Nan took her hand and squeezed it.
“I’ve got a zillion things to do,” Brooke said, pushing to her feet. She didn’t want to continue this conversation.
Nan turned a concerned gaze on the young woman. “Of course, sweetheart. I understand.”
They hugged, and Brooke escaped in a taxi. When the cab stopped at the curb, Rocky opened the door.
After she swung her legs out of the car, a deep voice drew her attention. “Kitten.”
She whipped her head around to see Pres, arms crossed, lounging against the building. A lump lodged in her chest, closing her throat. Tears pushed through, and her breath stopped. She mouthed his name and flew into his arms. He gripped her tightly as she cried. As soon as she could, she moved back and stared into his eyes. “What’re you doing here?”
“Ruth had a stroke. I came as soon as I could.”
She smiled at him. “You came for me?”
“Of course. Didn’t you think I would? Did you think I’d ignore your texts about her condition?”
“I didn’t know what to think. It’s been so long. We haven’t been connecting much, and I—”
He brought his mouth down on hers, cutting off her words.
“Come upstairs. I have to get ready. It’s Friday.”
“Geez, yeah. I forgot.”
She snuggled against him in the elevator. “How long are you here for?”
“Three weeks, maybe. I’m not sure. We’ve finished the first two scripts and are halfway through the third. I told them it was a family emergency.” He stroked her hair.
“It’s so good to see you.”
“I’ve missed you.” The car stopped, and they exited.
“Buddy?” Pres called as soon as he walked through the door. The pug came tearing around the corner, wiggling, snorting, and jumping up on Pres’s legs. He bent down, allowing the small dog to lick his face several times. He laughed and petted the squirmy animal.
“He missed you almost as much as I did,” Brooke said.
The apartment had been so empty without Nan. But Pres filled the space. He helped her set up. Cooler weather meant comfort food. She put meatloaf in the oven and peeled potatoes. Pres wiped down the table and pulled out dishes.
Working together, they had everything ready when the crowd showed at five thirty. Pres hit “popcorn” on the microwave and set out bowls. Brooke reported that Nan was improving every day, which brought a round of applause.
“Do you plan to keep doing dinner and movie nights?” John asked.
“As long as I can, John. If I’m in this apartment, I plan to continue.” Her statement was rewarded with another round of applause. Brooke was anxious to avoid any more probing. Her life seemed to be filled with questions, but no answers.
“Dinner’s served,” she announced when Pres placed the large pan on the table.
Once everyone had his or her plate, Pres and Brooke sat down to eat. A knock on the door surprised Brooke. She wasn’t expecting anyone. When she opened it, two uniformed policemen stood outside. She invited them in.
“Are you Brooke Felson?”
She nodded.
“We have a cease and desist order.” The officer looked around. “You’re running a restaurant without a permit, Miss Felson. That’s against the law. You must clear everyone out.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Harry piped up
“She’ll be fined then go to jail, wise guy. Here.” The cop handed her some papers.
“Can I let them finish eating?”
One police officer looked at the other. “Why not? Okay. Sure.”
“One minute, officer. Who filed this complaint?” Harry asked.
“It’s confidential.”
“I bet it was Miriam Grand,” Harry said.
“Who’s she?” Brooke asked.
“She’s the director of the senior center,” John answered. “You’re too much competition, Brooke.”
“Sorry, Miss, but it’s the law. Sure smells good in here. We’ll wait outside.” The policemen tipped their hats, turned, and left.
Brooke was speechless. The seniors grumbled as they finished their food. Each took their plate into the kitchen, hugged Brooke, and left as soon as they were through. When the last one closed the door, Brooke sank down into a chair in the dining room. “I can’t believe it.”
“Me, neither. How petty and mean,” Pres said, picking up glassware and carting it into the kitchen.
“Guess I’m going to take that offer to go to London.” She sighed.
“What offer to go to London?” He stopped moving.
Brooke explained about the negotiated settlement.
“I’m glad you didn’t let that bastard get away with what he did, but London? Damn!”
“What else can I do? I can’t do this anymore. We have to sell the apartment. At least it’s a job. I can support myself.” She chewed her lip.
“Don’t go, Brooke. Move in with me.”
“You’re in California.”
“Just for a couple of more weeks. I hate living without you. I love you. Marry me.” Pres’s gaze locked with hers.
“Marry you? Are you serious?” Her eyes widened.
Pres fell down on one knee. The dogs sniffed him. “I was saving this for dinner at a fancy restaurant, but I don’t have time, since you’re thinking about London. I love you with all my heart. Marry me, kitten. I’ve got enough money. There’ll be other pilots if this series doesn’t take off. Other scripts. Please, honey, say you will.” He fumbled in his pocket before drawing out a small, velvet box. He opened it to reveal a gorgeous, three-carat, square-cut diamond ring.
Brooke’s pulse kicked up. She was lightheaded as she gazed into his eyes. The warmth there made her blood sizzle. I adore him. Can’t be without him.
“Please, Brooke. Say ‘yes’.”
“Yes! I will. Get up.” She pulled on his arms.
He pushed the ring on her finger then stood. She gazed at her hand for a second then at him. He took her in his embrace for a huge kiss, deepening it as Brooke melted against him. Her heart pounded and warmth crept through her body. Married. Married to Pres. A dream come true. T
hey’d never have to be separated again. He’d be there, always.
Children! Yes, they’d have children. Brooke would have her own family. Her mind raced while energy surged through her veins. Happiness rose like a Phoenix from the ashes of her life.
They continued their passion in her bed, where they made love and slept, tangled together.
Chapter Fifteen
The next few days were filled with festivities. First, with Pres’s family. Jonathan Carpenter took them to an elegant brunch at The Yale Club. Then, they brought a cake with them to Nan’s new residence and celebrated with her and some of her new friends. Nan didn’t stop smiling or telling everyone how much she had hoped her granddaughter would marry Pres.
Forgetting about the police, some of the seniors showed up on Sunday night. Pres bought sweets and they partied then. Bess baked her special seven-layer, yellow, coconut cake for a small party, which included their men, at the Dinner Club meeting.
Although she was over the moon about marrying Pres, she had some nagging fears about her future. She’d decided to take the money from the monster who had fired her. She figured it would pay for her wedding, although Nan had protested that she wanted to foot the bill.
Her new career had gone up in smoke, evaporated with the deliverance of one document from the police. She had no idea what she wanted to do. With no answers, she turned her energies to making an inventory of the items in the house. Deciding what to sell, what to move to Nan’s new digs, and what to take with her was a big job, and it kept her occupied when she wasn’t spending time with Pres.
Being busy kept the question of a career for Brooke on the back burner. She avoided thinking about what she’d do with her life beyond becoming Mrs. Preston Carpenter. The tap tap of pug claws echoed through the apartment as Freddy, Ginger, and Buddy followed her from room to room.
Brooke lugged boxes around and tagged them with their final destination. Books to the Breast Cancer resale shop. Knickknacks to Nan’s. My winter clothes to storage. Dishes to Nan’s. Family pictures to Pres’s place. She worked away, ignoring the unease growing inside.
Shine Your Love on Me Page 18
