Love Don't Live Here Anymore (The Love Collection Book 3) (10 page)

Today was definitely proving to be a good day. Her sister always did have a secret gift for picking up on the little signs and drawing near accurate conclusions. By the time lunch rolled around, Summer had returned several messages, signed time-off requests and gotten caught up on her paperwork. She forwarded her calls to voicemail, turned off the light in her office, and headed outside to meet the ladies.

Summer and the girls opted to go to the pizza shop for one of their amazing chicken salads. Summer was eating, oblivious to the inquisitive stares she was getting from her girls.

“Don’t act like we stupid,” Larita said, breaking Summer from her daydream.

“What?” Summer asked as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“First of all, you have a glow about you that I haven’t seen since I met you,” Larita stated honestly.

“Then you meet up with two of your Atlanta idols over the weekend, and bright and early Monday morning they’re sending you special deliveries,” Moet stated.

Summer smirked. “Whatever. Y’all are crazy.”

“No, we not crazy, puta. You holding out.” Larita slid a forkful of food into her mouth.

“Yeah, ain’t no man doing all that unless you giving him a little bootay,” Moet said, mocking the sister from
Coming to America.
They all burst out laughing. Summer laughed the hardest and it felt good.

“No, no. I didn’t sleep with any of them over the weekend. Eugene was just being Eugene and Vincent was apologizing.” Summer went on to tell the two of them about what his mother had said the night before.

“You know that’s just plain wrong. That old lady should know better,” Larita stated.

“She probably does,” Moet added. “She might just want to sabotage anything that seems promising for her son. You know some mommas don’t know how to let go of their sons. I bet you he’s an only child, huh?” Moet

“Actually, no, but he
is
her only son,” Summer clarified. They all gave that knowing glance and smirk.

“Ladies,” Larita said, “we need a girl session. The girl I’m seeing and the guy have been laying it on thick and I think both of them want to take things a step further. I have to run some things by you guys and see what you think. Y’all made plans for Friday yet?”

Both Moet and Summer shook their heads and the ladies agreed to meet at the Rapture Lounge in Downtown Atlanta. Larita paid for lunch, and back to work they went. 

~~~

Braxdon drove straight home. He checked on his grandmother and made her a cup of coffee to wash down her morning pills. “How did you sleep, Gramma?”

“Oh, I slept good, baby. Thank you,” she said as she took the pills and her coffee.

Ms. Honey went back to watching her morning programs and Braxdon retreated to the room. He slept for what felt like all of two hours before he heard a loud thud and got up to see what was going on. Braxdon entered the living room and found his grandmother lying on the floor. “Gram, what happened? You okay?” Braxdon was worried because she wasn’t responding the way he’d hoped and her pillbox was on the floor and most of the medications had spilled out. He got his cell phone and called 9-1-1. When the emergency technicians arrived, they asked him a series of questions, checked her vitals, and decided to have Ms. Honey transported to the emergency room for a full workup. Braxdon already had her medications listed on a piece of paper thanks to Summer.

“Sir, what hospital do you prefer?” one of the techs asked.

Braxdon started to mention the one most people go to but thought of Summer. “Emory. Take her to Emory and I’m right behind you.” Braxdon threw on his clothes from yesterday, gargled with Listerine, and was out the door. He called his father to let him know that they were on their way to the hospital.

Ms. Honey was transported directly to the back and examined by one of the nurses. By the time Braxdon arrived, she was already hooked up to monitors.

“Hi, I’m her grandson, Braxdon.”

“Hi, Braxdon. What happened?” asked one of the nurses in the E.R.

“Well, to be honest, I don’t know. I work the overnight shift at a taxi company. I came home and gave her her medications like I do every morning, and then I lay down to take a nap. I heard a thump and woke up and found her on the floor next to her open medicine organizer. What worries me is that she may have accidentally overdosed.”

“Mm hm. I see. Okay, well, we’re running tests now. Once we have the results, one of our attending physicians will be in to talk with you guys.

“Okay. Thank you,” Braxdon said. He sat in the exam room and looked at his grandmother. He saw her aging before him but a part of him wanted to believe that she was okay and would get through this.

His more rational side came to the conclusion that she was getting old and her mind and body didn’t operate like they used to. She had been such an integral part of his life since he could remember and the thought of losing her was hurtful. When his parents were too intoxicated to take care of him, his grandmother was the one who had sent for him to make sure he was okay. For as far back as he could remember, he’d spent a lot of time at his grandmother’s place, so much time that at the age of thirteen he moved in with her because he didn’t like the dysfunction that was taking place at his parents’ home.

Both his parents were alcoholics and when they got drunk, which was ninety percent of the time, all they did was fight and argue with each other. After a while Braxdon got tired of it and asked his grandmother if he could live with her. Since she was the only one occupying a three-bedroom ranch-style house, she was more than glad to have him come stay with her. He was good with helping to keep the house clean, handling the grounds outside and maintaining it properly for all seasons, and ensuring that the garbage was removed every Sunday. As far as Ms. Honey was concerned, Braxdon was more of a help to her than she to him. 

About an hour later, one of the doctors entered the room with a nurse. “Hello, Mr. Jones. I’m Dr. Kerner. I reviewed the lab results and it seems like your grandmother may have overdosed on her heart medications. Her levels came back very high, which leads me to believe that she took more than the recommended dose. And from what I understand, she was found lying on the floor with her pillbox open, correct?”

“Yes, that is correct,” Braxdon answered.

Dr. Kerner nodded but didn’t say anything at first as he continued to read her chart. “Braxdon, have you noticed anything different about your grandmother in terms of memory, performance?”

“She has become more forgetful and of course she doesn’t do as much as she used to.”

“I ask because the nurse did a mini-mental on her when she first came in and she wasn’t aware of the place or time. She knew her name but couldn’t tell us anything about her next of kin. Have you considered nursing home placement for her?”

“Nursing home? My grandmother doesn’t need to be in a nursing home. She may be forgetful, but she’s definitely not senile. She still cooks, does her own laundry, bathes herself, and still understands her bills.”

“Well, it’s just something to think about. Usually, patients get worse, not better. We gave her something to clean her system out. The nurse will come in to check on her periodically and in about an hour or so she will be all set to go.”

Although Braxdon thanked the doctor, he wanted to punch him too. No way was he putting his grandmother in a nursing home. “Over my dead body. Black people don’t throw our folks in no damn home,” he said out loud after everyone had cleared the room.

The whole time, Ms. Honey had just listened and allowed her facial expressions to speak for her. “Braxdon, I don’t want to go into nobody’s home. The good Lord might as well take me right now if that’s the case, because surely if I go in there I’mma die anyway. On the way over here I saw them pink clouds shining bright. That’s a sign that the end is near. Just go on out there and look for yourself. The trees ain’t even brown anymore; they done turned gray,” she said.

Braxdon’s face was distorted by shock and confusion. He wondered why his grandmother was talking nonsensically. Sure, he’d heard her say some off-the-wall things but never anything as incoherent as she’d just said. He was worried, not to mention, he’d called his father over an hour ago and he still hadn’t made it to the hospital to see about his mother. He needed someone to talk to, so he pulled out his phone to call Summer.

“Gramma, I’ll be right back. I’m just stepping out the room to make a phone call.”

After several rings, Summer’s voicemail picked up. After the beep, Braxdon said, “What’s up, Summer? Call me when you can. It’s kind of important. I’m all fucked up right now. Please hit me—”

“Braxdon?”

He’d heard his name being called and turned around to see Summer standing in front of him, holding a nice bouquet of flowers. He was instantly jealous.

“What’s up, Summer? I was just leaving you a message. Nice flowers. Must be nice,” Braxdon said sarcastically.

“Oh, um thanks. I was actually bringing these downstairs for Moet. What’s up?”

“Man these nigg—. My bad, people, talking about putting my grandmother in a nursing home. I can’t let them do that, man. She’ll die in that place.”

Summer saw the worry and concern on his face and heard it in his voice. “What, when, who? What happened?” she asked, perplexed. “Actually, wait. Let me bring these to the nurses station and I’ll be right back.” She dropped the flowers off and by the time she’d made it back to Ms. Honey, the nurse was there too.

“Oh, hey Lorraine. I’m a friend of the family and happened to see Braxdon here. He told me something about having the patient placed? Can you fill me in?”

After getting a verbal from both Braxdon and Ms. Honey, Lorraine filled her in on what happened and what was going on with her medically. She concluded by saying that they may have to make an adult protective referral.

“Whoa! That isn’t necessary.”

“Why not?” Lorraine asked. “Clearly, she’s unsafe at home. She practically overdosed.”

“Yeah, but that was an accident and something that can be rectified. Not to mention, she doesn’t even meet the requirements for adult protective services.”

“And why not?” Lorraine asked.

Summer was taken aback. She clearly got the vibe that this woman was trying to test her intelligence. “Because I said she doesn’t. I don’t know what experience you have, but I’ve interned at the geriatric unit for five years back in Dallas. In order to make an APS referral, she has to meet the three criteria: a physical or mental impairment—”

“Which she does,” Lorraine interjected.

“Let me finish. She also has to have an unmet need,” Summer said, holding up a second finger. “And no one who is willing and able to assist. And as far as I’m concerned, all her needs are being met and her grandson is willing and able to help. Oh, she would have to be leaving AMA and that isn’t the case either, right?”

Lorraine looked like she was at a loss for words, but she had to say something. “Well, then why did she end up here?” she spat.

“Because shit happens, Lorraine. Even seemingly lucid people mistakenly take their meds. That’s nothing new. We can rectify that by setting her up with an MD2 machine to dispense her medications for her. And now that I think about it, her confusion can be something medical. Have you guys even checked her urine for a UTI? My experience with seniors has led me to a little known fact that when older women come off as incoherent, they might actually be experiencing something that’s treatable,” Summer told her.

Both Summer and Braxdon watched as Lorraine’s facial color went from beige to red. She hadn’t thought about a UTI and apparently neither had the doctor because he didn’t recommend a culture. Summer did Lorraine a favor by collecting a sample and gave it to her to test. As sure as the sky is blue, Ms. Honey had a urinary tract infection. She was given an antibiotic to treat it and shortly after, she was discharged to go home with Braxdon.

~~~

Summer had to get back on her floor; so once she made sure that Braxdon and Ms. Honey were okay, she headed toward the elevator. No sooner than when she stepped off the floor, one of the administrators spotted her. He asked her to come to his office and let her know that he’d gotten a call about her interfering with the emergency room duties and making the staff appear incompetent. Summer argued her case and by the time she was done, her point was understood.

When she reached her office, she found a small teddy bear, holding a heart-shaped balloon that read, “I Love you” and a card that said, “Thanks! I can’t repay you soon enough.” 

Summer was initially taken aback by the message on the balloon but soon realized that Braxdon must have purchased it from the gift shop. She had been down there several times before and knew that most of the items said either “Get Well,” or “It’s a Boy/Girl,” so his options were limited. Regardless, it put a smile on her face and she was grateful for the gesture. The rest of her afternoon went by quickly and she was grateful for that too.

The steam coupled with the water pressure made for a relaxing shower. Summer could hear her cell phone ringing but reasoned that she would call whomever it was back when she was done. That thought was quickly removed when the ringing stopped and started right back up. Thinking it must have been an emergency and her sister was probably calling, Summer turned the water off and hopped out of the shower to get her phone. When she saw that she had two missed calls from Mrs. Heyward, her heart rate increased.

Wasting no time, she dialed her back. “Hey. It’s me.”

“Oh, Summer, she’s his. That baby belongs to AJ!” Mrs. Heyward cried.

Summer’s voice was caught somewhere between her throat and her tongue. She wanted to say something but the words wouldn’t form. Instead, the tears falling from her eyes spoke volumes.
You knew, AJ. You knew
. “I—I don’t know what to say. I’m happy, nervous, anxious.”

“This is great news. It’s like having a piece of my son back. I tried calling the number you gave me for Jessica but it wasn’t in service,” Mrs. Heyward said.

“I’ll try calling her again as well. If I get ahold of her, I will give her your number to follow up. Like I told you last time, she made it clear that she wasn’t willing to keep Akia and there’s no way my heart will allow me to let that poor girl go into a system somewhere. I’m just afraid that—”

“I know, Summer, honey, and if I wasn’t up there in age I would take her full time. Since we first spoke about this, I have had some time to think and assess my situation, and Lance and I would be more than willing to take her for the summer and during holidays, so you can have some sense of normalcy. If I have to, of course, I will take her full time, but I worry about my ability to take care of a child so young,” Mrs. Heyward explained.

Summer had thought about age being a major factor in Mr. and Mrs. Heyward’s ability to take care of Akia. She was only a little over a year old and her needs would be too much for a couple in their sixties to manage. She had spoken to her sister about it and of course Autumn was supportive and suggested she adopt the little girl. Autumn had also told her that Chaianne, a friend of theirs from Dallas, would be a great person to talk to because she had been a product of the system due to maternal neglect. She told Summer that after hearing her story, there was no doubt about what she should do.

“Mrs. Heyward, let me reach out to Jessica and I’ll call you back,” Summer said, ending the call. She was nervous about calling Jessica. She already knew where the conversation would go and she was worried about possibly becoming a mom. All sorts of what-if questions swarmed her head.
What if she doesn’t like me? What if I don’t like her
? What if this, and what if that. Summer had come to the conclusion that such questions weren’t going to help the daughter of her beloved fiancé. In her heart of all hearts she knew what she had to do, so she dialed Jessica’s number before she had a chance to talk herself out of it.