Granddad's House (On Geneva Shores) (28 page)

“I’m so sorry, Granddad. I shouldn’t have let you move into that condo. It’s all my fault. I should have moved in with you at your house …”

“Ssh, child. Where did you get such a crazy idea? I did this.”

Her tears wet his hand. He reached up to touch her face. “You sweet thing. I’m just a silly old man who wanted to get a cookie to eat with my tea. It was my sweet tooth that caused this.”

She looked at him through her tears. “Were you trying to find the cookie canister?”

He nodded. “And I think I got too close to the stove.” He tried to move in the bed and grimaced.

“How badly are you hurting, Granddad?”

“It comes and goes. When they give me a shot, I don’t feel it so much.” He sighed. “Where’s Beau? Is he around?”

“He dropped me off. He had to take a call from his brother-in-law about Paul. This has been such a terrible week. First that and now this.”

“I want to talk to him. Tell him that, will you?”

She nodded.

“Good. Could you go get the nurse? I think I need another shot.”

She kissed his hand and turned toward the door.

Beau was standing there, tears sliding down his face. 

“What is it?” she asked, fearing the worst.

“One of Paul’s men made it back … a patrol found him. Before he passed out, he said he and Paul escaped and were going to try to get back to base camp. They separated to give each other a better chance.”

“You mean he’s alive?”

Beau nodded. “I have no idea how they got away. One of the patrols found Paul about two
klicks from where they found the other guy. They’ve sent him by medevac to that big base in Germany. Ted’s on his way there now and will call with a full report.”

“This is wonderful! That means he’ll be home soon. Right?”

“I hope so.” He wobbled on his feet. “I have to get a grip.”

She hugged him. “You’re entitled to tears—tears of joy.” She brushed her hand against his day-old beard. They’d left his place so quickly that morning … Then she remembered. “Granddad asked for you. Maybe you could talk to him a little later?”

He nodded. “Whenever he wants me to.” He approached the bed. “I’ll be back, Mr. Brown,” he said softly.

Her grandfather’s eyes opened briefly, and he smiled. “Call me Robert. No need to stand on ceremony,” he murmured before his eyes closed again.

Chapter 17

Over the next two days Beau and Olivia took turns sitting with Robert.

“His times of lucidity are less frequent,” the doctor told them, when Olivia asked about his progress. “And he’s developed an infection that has us worried. We’ve changed his medication and we’ll see if that helps.”

Beau worried about the nurses’ comments about smoke inhalation and possible damage to Robert’s lungs. When Olivia slipped out of the room, he questioned the nurses about the old man’s continued coughing and the need for extra oxygen, but they told him little.

One afternoon when Robert seemed more alert, he insisted that Beau sit with him. Olivia left the two of them alone and went into the chapel for some quiet time.

“You wanted to talk to me, sir?” Beau pulled his chair next to the bed.

Robert looked at him, his eyes bleary. “How are you and
Livvy getting along these days?”

Beau smiled slightly. “Fine. She’s been wonderful, helping me when I got the news about my brother.”

Robert nodded. “She has a big heart. I’d expect her to want to be there for you.” He motioned for a sip of water. “What about your heart? Is it big enough to stand by her? I ’spect she needs that right now, too.”

Beau’s brow wrinkled. He opened his mouth and was about to say something when the old man lifted his hand.

“All right. I’ll just say it. Do you love her?”

Beau sat up straighter. “Yes, I do.”

“Good.” Robert coughed then continued, his voice raspy. “So what’re you gonna do about it?”

“Well, I was—before this business with my brother—I was going to ask you, if I got her a ring—” He had to stop and swallow, and catch his breath. “And I wanted to ask her after I talked to you, of course—”
What is the matter with me? Why can’t I say it?

Robert’s glare stopped him.

“So you want to marry her?”

Beau’s heart thudded. The man didn’t pull any punches. “Marry her, yes—that is, if it’s all right with you.” Had
she told her grandfather she’d been at his place? Maybe he’d guessed.

Robert seemed to relax. “Good. You had some trouble saying it, but I guess that’s okay. I was the same way with her grandmother.” He motioned for more water. “I want you to. I don’t want her to be alone after I’m gone.”

Beau leaned forward. “Mr.—”

“Robert. Remember that.”

“Robert. We can wait till you’re out of here—you know, for the wedding.”

“The doctor here—I heard him talking. He thought I was asleep. They’re not giving me much of a chance, what with this infection or whatever it is that’s got me down.” Robert started to cough and struggle for air. The effort of getting over his coughing spell seemed to sap his energy.

He lay back on the pillow, his face pale and more haggard than when he’d first started talking. “Do you know if they told Livvy how I’m doing and all?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“They mentioned the infection.”

“Well, don’t you say anything. I want to talk to her first. Maybe tonight. Will you call the nurse? She seems to take her sweet time comin’ when I hit that button they gave me.” He grimaced and began to cough again.

Beau rose and motioned for the nurse to enter the room. “He says he needs more pain meds.”

Beau went to the chapel, knowing Olivia had taken refuge there. He sat down next to her and put his arms around her.

“It’s not your fault, what happened to your grandfather. I know you’ve been thinking that.”

She remained silent, her shoulders moving slightly as she sniffed.

“Even if you’d been home that night, at your place, you wouldn’t have been with him.”

She pulled away from him. “But if I hadn’t stayed at your place, I probably would have seen him at dinner and if he’d wanted a cookie, I would have given him one. I should have moved the canister to a lower shelf. I put it up high so he wouldn’t sneak them. And if I’d been home, I would have got the message right away.” Her eyes were red-rimmed and she looked bereft. “What if he dies because of this? It’ll be my fault.”

He reached for her again, but she moved farther away.

“Don’t think that,” he insisted. “It’s not true. He doesn’t want you to think that.”

“But it’s true. I saw it in the nurse’s eyes when she said how she’d tried to call me at home and couldn’t get me.” Her tears began again. “The doctor, too. I know he thinks I should have watched him closer.”

“Olivia, darlin’.” Beau pulled her to his chest. “Your grandfather didn’t want you to live with him. And he refused to come live with you. He wanted his own place. You know that. And you found him that condo, all on one level, just the right size and with a garden and everything. You did exactly what he wanted you to do.” His voice softened.  “You helped him retain his independence. Don’t blame yourself for this. It isn’t right. It will tear you up if you keep thinking that.”

She shook her head, slipped out of his arms, and fled the room before he could stop her.

When he got back to his condo that evening, her things were gone. She’d left him a note on the table where he kept his phone.

Beau

Thanks for everything. I had to go home. I hope your brother gets well soon.

No I love you. No good-bye, not even her name.
He called her house and left her a message, hoping, but not really expecting, that she would reply. He called the office the next morning. Maybe she was there or had at least checked in with Genevieve.

“She isn’t here, Mr. James. How is her grandfather?”

“Not good. If she stops in, will you ask her to call me?”

“I will.” Genevieve paused. “Mr. James? May I call you Beau? I hope you don’t mind if I call you that.”

“Not at all.”

“It’s probably none of my business, but she can be stubborn, just like her father and her grandfather, too. I know how she feels about you. Don’t take no for an answer, but don’t you dare tell her I told you so.”

He hung up, sat quietly for a while, trying to decide what to do. He would give her an hour   and then track her down. He opened his laptop to email Ted for the latest news about Paul.

Olivia reserved her tears for her respites in the hospital chapel, to which she escaped after every visit. Granddad seemed to be slipping away, no matter what she said to him about getting better, no matter how much she wanted him to get well. Each day he seemed weaker. Four days after she had moved back home, she continued to refuse to answer Beau’s phone calls. When he came to the hospital to sit with her, she went to the chapel, her guilt at what had happened enhanced by her grief that she could no longer be with Beau. When she returned to Granddad’s room later that evening, Dr. Dawson joined her at the bedside.

“May I see you outside, Olivia?”

She followed him. He took her hand. “You know what’s happening here, don’t you?”

Her eyes filled. She didn’t want to say it or even think it. She sucked in her bottom lip, as if to prevent herself from voicing what she had been seeing, what she feared he would say.

“Your grandfather’s failing and he wants to go, but he’s hanging on because you’re not ready to let him go.”

She shook her head. “No. That can’t be.”
How could the doctor, someone so young, practically a stranger, possibly know what Granddad was thinking? “You don’t know that. You don’t know him like I do.” Her tears slid down her cheeks and she made no effort to stop them. “He’s always been so strong.”

“In the past, yes, but his body’s giving out. He’s tired of fighting the pain and the infection.  You know he has a DNR order in his chart. He reminds me of that every time I see him. He told me he wants to go. You need to tell him
it’s okay.”

“No!” she cried, not realizing how loud that word sounded until it flung itself back into her face, mocking her refusal to accept what the doctor was saying.

“Olivia, you love your grandfather. Show him your love. Let him go. Let him be free of the pain.”

She sank down onto a nearby chair, surprised she didn’t land on the floor when her knees wouldn’t stop shaking. She put her head in her hands. If she didn’t see the doctor, maybe he would go away. If she covered her ears against his words, maybe she wouldn’t hear what he was trying to tell her.

But he didn’t leave. He stood nearby, a silent sentinel as she wept.

“Who can I call, to be with you—to help you through this? Maybe that man your grandfather talks to? You don’t need to be alone when you tell him good-bye.”

She shook her head. “I’ll help Granddad through this. If he needs blood again to fight the infection, I’ll give it. We’re the same type. Just tell me when to go to the blood bank again. I won’t tell him good-bye. He’s going to get better. He’s always been so strong.” But even to her own ears, her words sounded forlorn, a plea even she had to question.

Dr. Dawson sighed quietly and opened the door for her. She entered her grandfather’s room, went to the bedside and was holding his hand and listening to his quiet breathing when he seemed to rouse. He opened his eyes and gave her a wan smile.

“Livvy. Could you move my bed up so I can see you better?”  His voice was hoarse and raspy to her ears, weaker than before.

She adjusted the bed until his hand raised slightly off the bed.

“Enough.” He said, just above a whisper, “Olivia Marie Brown.”

He hadn’t used her full name in such a long time. When she was little, it was a sure sign he was going to call her on some behavior he didn’t like and wouldn’t put up with.

“What is it, Granddad?”

“I want you to call Beau and—”

She started to shake her head.

“Listen to me, girl.” His voice seemed stronger. “That man loves you. He wants to be with you, and you haven’t given him a chance. I want you to call him, let him help you, be with you, love you.”

She was crying hard now, unable to prevent her tears from soaking the sheets.

“Look at me,” he commanded as he tried to sit up in the bed.

She raised her head.

“Do you love Beau?”

She wiped her eyes and reached for a tissue.

“Answer me,
Livvy.”

The tiniest of squeaks came out of her mouth and she nodded.

“I want to hear you say it,” he demanded, his hazel eyes clear as he gazed at her.

“Yes, I do.” 
But if she hadn’t been with Beau, Granddad’s accident might not have occurred. “But he has to take care of his brother, and I shouldn’t have been with him when—when you got burned. It’s all my fault this happened. If I’d been home, instead of with him …”

Her grandfather seemed to sink into the pillows, looking pale, worn out. “Oh,
Livvy. It wasn’t your doing. Stop beating yourself up. I didn’t mean to, but I was careless. You’re just like your father, trying to take charge of everything so nothing bad happens. That’s why he died at his desk. Trying to do everything for everyone and forgetting that if he didn’t take care of himself, he wouldn’t be able to take care of you.” He reached for her hand and lay quietly as his eyes closed.

He patted her hand.  “I’m dog tired,
Livvy. I want to be with your grandmamma. She’s been calling me. I told her last night I wasn’t ready. I had to see to you first. I can’t go to her if you aren’t … if you are all alone. I don’t want you to be alone …”

She clutched his hand tightly, his fingers strangely cool. They had always been so warm and strong. Ever since she’d been a child, she had marveled at the heat that enveloped her tiny fingers whenever he held her hand. She looked at him, his eyes barely open, his breathing labored.

The lump in her throat threatened to choke her. She took a deep breath. “Granddad,” she whispered, aching that she had to say it. “If you want to see Grandmamma, it’s okay,” her heart rebelling at what he needed to hear. “I’ll be okay. I promise to … I’ll talk to Beau.”
If he ever calls me. Maybe he won’t.
She hadn’t answered his calls in days.

He seemed to smile when she said it, and his hand relaxed, opening slightly. His breathing slowed. She grasped his hand in hers and let her tears wash his palm after she traced an ‘I love you’ heart in his palm.

When her grandfather closed his eyes and he relaxed into sleep, Olivia kissed his forehead. “I’ll let you rest, Granddad. I’ll see you in a little while.” She found a restroom and wiped her eyes and face, trying not to weep. It was all she’d been doing for days.

After several minutes, she felt stronger and returned to his room. A nurse was standing by the bedside. The doctor, too. “He’s gone,” he said.

“Oh, Granddad,” Olivia cried. She reached for his hand and pressed it tightly between her own, willing its warmth to return. “I love you, Granddad. Say hello to Grandmamma for me, and Daddy, too,” she whispered. How many years had it been since she’d referred to her father by that name?

Minutes later, it was Beau’s voice that settled around her as she wept, still holding her grandfather’s hand.

“Olivia,” he whispered to her. “Give him a hug one last time.” She rose from the chair, kissed her grandfather’s forehead and hugged him, certain she would never stop crying.