Lonesome Beds and Bumpy Roads (Beds #3) (16 page)

I know I should’ve expected tubes, monitors, IVs, and whatnot, but for some reason when the surgeon said Grams was stable and resting, I pictured her asleep in the hospital bed just like she fell asleep so many times at home.

My grip on Lex’s hand tightens when we’re welcomed in the recovery room. The monitors are scary, but they’re nothing compared to the ghostly color of Gram’s skin. She almost looks unrecognizable.

Her chest slowly rises and falls, and the knowledge that she’s breathing tones down my anxiety levels. Pop-pop goes right for her hand and kisses her fingertips. I quickly get a chair from the back of the room and slide it up for him. I know he’s going to be here for as long as the nurses allow him to be.

“The doctor will be in shortly,” the nurse says from behind us. Lex is the only person I think coherent enough to even acknowledge her and nods or says thank you, I’m not sure. I’m drawn to the wrapping around Grams’ head.

How big of an incision did they make? How exactly did they drain the blood? Will this happen again? Will she be the same after this? All the frantic internet research on strokes freaked me the hell out, and I want the doctor to come in and explain it all.

But I also
don’t
want that either. I’m afraid of the answers. Afraid of what’ll happen when not only I hear them, but when Pop-pop does.

Lex’s head drops down onto my arm, and the largest wave of empathy falls over me.

I get it now.

I get why she’s considering giving up college, staying at home. Why she’s not sure anymore what she wants.

Because when someone close to you starts slipping away, you try everything you can to pull them back, or hold onto them long enough to say goodbye.

I turn my head, kiss the top of her crown and let it linger. Her eyes meet mine, and they glisten with unshed tears.

A knock comes at the door, and we break our eye contact to watch the doctor walk in. He’s not in his surgery cover anymore, but wearing a badge and carrying Grams’ chart. He gives us a friendly smile then lets his gaze drop on Pop-pop.

“I’m sure you all have questions,” he says. “The short answer will be that May is a very lucky woman.”

I look at her bandaged head. “Did they shave her hair?” I ask. It’s the stupidest thing to be concerned over right now, but the answer won’t devastate me no matter what it is. So that’s what I go with.

The doctor’s mouth twitches upward. “Only a small portion.”

“She won’t like that,” Brett says, and off-sounding laughter fills the room. Pop-pop kisses her fingers again then stands up.

“How long will she be asleep?”

“Probably through the night. Maybe shorter.”

“Can I stay with her?”

“Of course.”

Lex clears her throat next to me. “Um… will she be… normal?” Her hand grips mine again, and I grip it right back, holding my breath for the answer.

“She might be a little disoriented. It’s common with people who’ve suffered a stroke.” The doctor sets down his chart and looks down at Grams. “May had what is called a Hemorrhagic stroke. Instead of a blood clot in the brain, it’s a blood leakage, for lack of a better word. We had to go in and take care of it quickly. Only about twenty percent of people survive something like this. She has, but the recovery will take some time.”

“So, that’s a no,” I say, heart sinking like an anvil. “She won’t be normal.”

The doctor meets my eyes. “She won’t be back to herself right away. But with time, patience, rehabilitation, she’ll be back to what she remembers as normal.”

He goes over other details then, about family counseling that we might be interested in, about how Grams may forget a few basic functions, such as reading, writing, eating. Pop-pop jokes about how we’ll all starve or have to live off of fast food until Grams learns to cook again, but the joke leaves a heavy stench of reality in its wake, because that is most likely what we will end up doing.

I think of the bed in my garage. I think of the apartment I plan on moving to. I think of how that stuff seems so distant and unimportant now because I don’t want to go anywhere until I know she’ll be okay.

But that’s the thing, even though the doctor’s assured us that she’ll live through this, I have no idea if she’ll ever be “okay” again.

***

Brett has fallen asleep with his phone on, resting on his knee, the game he was playing creating a colorful glow around him. The nurse gave Pop-pop a bed and he’s resting next to Grams, hand still wrapped around hers. Lex and I are the only ones who haven’t found an ounce of sleep.

She plays with my fingers, and when she laces them together I flick at the ring on her pinky. Her phone kept going off in her pocket until it finally ran out of battery. She didn’t look at it once, and twenty-four hours ago, I would’ve been extremely grateful for that—that she chose me over whatever her dad needed from her.

But now… her dad wants
time
. And even though I feel like he’s not exactly deserving of it,
Lex
deserves that time given back to her. She deserves everything she wants.

“Hey,” I whisper, saying the first word to her in about an hour, “wanna go for a walk with me?”

She raises her head, resting her chin on my shoulder. “You sure?”

I nod.

“Okay.”

We get up, and my legs feel a bit like rubber from the way I’d been sitting. When we get to the elevator, I stomp out the sleepy pins and needles.

The elevator ride is quiet, and so is the walk out the main lobby doors to the valet parking the hospital provides. It’s nice out. I don’t know what time it is, but judging by the gray-purple color of the sky, I’m guessing it’s close to six or seven in the morning. Lex’s hand curls into a fist in mine, something she always does when she wants to keep her fingers warm.

“I know this is stupid to ask,” she says as we walk the path down to a couple of benches and a garden area, “but are you okay?”

I look at her as we take a seat on a bench, turn toward her body, keep her hand in mind. My mouth is stuck open because I don’t know how to answer the question. Physically, yes, I’m okay. Emotionally I’m less than okay. Mentally I’m having a hard time grasping onto what’s happened in the past twelve hours. And because I don’t know how to answer honestly, I don’t answer at all. Instead I blurt out at her the thing I’ve wanted to since I saw Grams lying in that hospital bed.

“I’m sorry.”

Her eyebrows tilt upward. “For what?”

“For not understanding.” I take both her hands now, hold them tight, swear to never let them go. “You begged for me to understand. And I really did
try
, but I never did understand it. I thought I was right and you were blinded by the fact that he’s your dad and I thought I was protecting you, but I was wrong, I was so damn wrong, and I’m sorry for putting you through hell and making you feel like shit and not being there for you.” I pause for a breath, a long shameful sigh. “I’m so sorry for not understanding.”

“Ryan…”

“You need time with him. You need to see him while you can. Trust me, I get that now.”

“We don’t have to talk about this—”

“Yeah, we do. I’ve been an ass.”

“No.” She shakes her head furiously at me. She grasps my cheeks, presses her forehead against mine. “Ryan, I
love
you. I asked you to be honest with me, and you were. You’re looking out for me.
Always
looking out for me. I see that. I love that. I trust you with everything.” She trails her fingers down my face and lets them rest on my shoulders. “You are far from an ass.”

I pick up one of her hands and kiss her palm. “Well, I’m gonna start being more patient about this thing with your dad. I’m gonna trust you.”

“Thank you.” She smiles, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling us closer. “I’m sorry too.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because I know that you love me, and I shouldn’t take that for granted. And I especially shouldn’t push you aside for someone who hasn’t been there for me.”

“He’s your—”

She taps a hand to my lips. “My dad. But you…
you
are my family.”

I meet her lips, not realizing how much I needed a kiss like this until I’m in it. It’s a kiss that feels like normal. Like neither of us are trying to run from something or erase anything. Just a kiss that says we love each other. It’s a forever kind of kiss.

“Ryan!”

Lex and I break apart, and I look over her shoulder at Brett waving at us from the front door.

“She’s awake!”

The walk to Grams is fast, but the lingering outside the door trying to get the strength to step into the room, though short, seems to last forever. I squeeze Ryan’s hand because I really don’t know what else to do. It’s all I have to give and I hope it’s enough.

He kisses my head before finally crossing the threshold. His voice is calm as he says, “Hi Grams. You scared us.”

I follow in behind him and I expect to hear one of Grams’ witty responses, instead I hear nothing. Too scared to look, afraid that Brett was mistaken and she’s really not awake, I burrow my head into Ryan’s back. 

“Poor Brett almost wound up in a bed next to you,” Ryan jokes, but his tone is softer than usual. I can hear him fighting to stay positive.

My heart hurts. For me, for Grams, for the three men in this room that I love more than anything else in this world. Tears prick my eyes, but I fight them. I was Ryan’s warrior princess in a glittery tiara, and I sure as heck can be that girl again. I take a deep breath and turn with a smile. “Hi Grams,” I say, stepping out from behind Ryan’s back.

She tries to talk but her words all slur together. Her face looks off, like someone took Grams’ skin and put it on, but it doesn’t fit just right. Her mouth sags slightly, and I want to reach out and tug it back into place.

As hard as it is, I push the awful thoughts away. I pretend this is Grams in front of me because it is, and I know she wants us to treat her as we always do. I go to the opposite side of the bed from where Pop-pop is and I plop down. Her hair is messy against her forehead, and I swipe it back into place.

“Now Grams, you know I can’t handle all three of them on my own. They’ll be hungry, shirtless, and talking like sailors.” I take the hand closest to me, since Pop-pop has a death grip on her other, and I press a kiss to her knuckles. “So you see, you’re going to be just fine. And me, along with
our
three boys, are going to make sure of it. You just have to do me one favor. Can you do that for me?”

She nods and stutters out a yes.

“You have to promise me you will fight.”

She squeezes my hand tightly and even though it is something I’ve been doing with Ryan all day, coming from Grams it is a beacon of hope and a reminder of her strength.

“Good. And when you get better you’re going to teach me how to make those brownies of yours. Because I could really use one right now.”

“Damn straight,” Brett says and because Grams can’t do it, I get up and smack him upside the head.

“Ow. What was that for?” Brett says, running his hand over his hair.

“Watch your mouth,” I say and turn back and give Grams a wink. “I got this for now, at least until you’re ready.”

Ryan slides his hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. Grams manages a half-smile and it’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I swear my heart swells to capacity. I’m ready for it to burst shimmering happy glitter all around us.

***

I get home and am ready to collapse into a pile of emotional wreckage when I step into the living room and see Mom asleep on Roger’s lap. He’s stroking her hair in slow, long caresses and smiling down on her.

Quietly, I shut the door, but not quietly enough. Roger glances up and I give a wave.

“Hi,” I mouth.

“Hi,” he mouths back.

I wiggle my finger between him and Mom and he gives me a thumbs up.

“I’m so happy,” I blurt out like a crazy person.

The thought of having Mom and Dad back together was short-lived. I don’t think they were ever really perfect for each other. If they were he would have found his way back here a long time ago. He wouldn’t have let anything keep them apart, and that’s why I know no matter what, Ryan and I will be okay. Because there is nothing strong enough in this world to keep me from him.

As Roger slides out from Mom, I know he’s the one for her. No matter what, he is always there, and more importantly always there when she needs him most. He comes over to me and rests a hand on my shoulder. I glance up and toss my arms around him.

“It’s good to have you back here,” I say.

He seems surprised at first, but then hugs me back. After a few seconds he pulls away. “How’s Ryan’s grandmother?”

Unable to form words, my head bobs like a bobble head.

“From what I hear she’s a tough cookie. I think in time, she’ll be okay. In the meantime, if you or Ryan need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you. You’re one of the good ones, Roger.”

“I try,” he says, then with one final hug he retreats back to Mom.

I head into my room and finally plug my phone in to charge. I have a million text messages, most from Dad and Kaylee, one from Nate.

I swipe to the last one Dad sent.

Dad: I’m worried. Please call.

I haven’t spoken to him since I caught him out at Skippy Lee’s. It was only yesterday but it feels like a lifetime. How stupid and petty can I be? He has a life. One that isn’t much longer for this world. Who am I to deny him any chance he can get to live it?

And after seeing Grams, how can I not do everything in my power to keep him alive for as long as possible? I go into my closest, step up onto my stool, and grab Miss Piggles.

I hold her cute ceramic face in my hands and kiss her snout. “We’ve been through a lot, you and me. But now someone else needs you more than I do.”

I go back to my phone and tap Dad’s name.

Lexie: I’m free now. Can we meet?

Dad: Of course.