“Come on, guys, let’s go eat.” We make our way down the stairs as my parents walk in the front door with food in tow. I begin to relax; I need my mom and dad so much. My dad pulls me in, and my mom gets the kids into the kitchen. I fall right into his arms.
“Honey, you are a strong woman. You can do this. All you have to do is keep it together and get through each day as it comes.” His words are comforting, but I know this isn’t possible; I can’t do anything but sit and cry. While my father rubs my back, and comforts me. Then I hear the phone ring.
“Mom, can you please get that? I don’t want to talk to anyone. I know nothing yet. I have to call and make the arrangements today.” With that she answers the phone and starts protecting me. I want to turn the ringer off, because when she hangs up, it rings again. This happens all day. I grab my cell phone. I have thirty-one missed calls. I call Becca, because we have been friends since we were three, and even though we live on opposite sides of the continent, she will listen even if I don’t talk.
“Hey, mama, how’s it going?” She doesn’t know, and for a second I want to keep it that way. I want to talk to someone who isn’t going to have pity on me.
“Han, are you there?” I try to talk, but I’m so choked up.
“Oh, Becca.” I start to sob into the phone.
“Han, what’s going on? Are you all right?” She sounds serious now; the happy carefree Becca has left, much like me.
“Becca, it’s Chase. He…he…died.” I said it.
It hurts more than I thought it would, and my heart crumbles. The pain is back, and it’s so bad, I can’t breathe again.
“Hannah, I’ll be there in a few hours.” I hear her yelling at her assistant to call the pilot and get the plane ready.
“Becca, you don’t have to—” I start to say, but she cuts me off.
“Hannah, are you kidding me? No way in hell you can keep me away. I’m leaving the office now; I’ll have clothes sent to me or something… don’t worry. I can cancel everything.” She stops, and I think it has finally hit her too.
“Hannah, are you OK?” she asks in a whisper.
“No,” I say, but I’m not sure she heard.
“I’m leaving now. I will be there as soon as I can. I love you.” I can tell she’s rushing around.
“Thanks, Bec, I’ll see you soon.” With that I hang up. I feel a bit relieved, knowing that she will be here. She can make it better; she always does.
I can’t make another one of these calls. It takes too much out of me. I head into the kitchen, where Kevin is on the phone. I hear him talking about having Chase’s body moved to the funeral home. I guess it’s better that he does all of that, because I can’t even think of where to begin.
“Hannah.” I look up. Kevin is standing next to me. I’m in the living room, and I have no idea how I got in here.
“We have an appointment in an hour. Do you want to get ready?” I can’t move. He helps me move and begins to walk me to the stairs.
I slowly walk up the stairs and go into the shower. The burning water doesn’t feel like anything against my skin. My whole body is numb. I get out when the water turns cold. Teeth chattering, I throw my hair back wet and put on my yoga pants and Chase’s favorite sweatshirt. I can smell him on it. The pain comes back again, overwhelming me as I fall to my knees. I cry so hard. I can’t find my way out of the maze that has become my life. I remember the smell, when he would come behind me and wrap his arms around me. “Baby, I need you,” I whisper.
It’s Kevin who finds me on the floor of the closet.
“Hannah, come on. We have to go.” He helps me up and we hug. It’s not the same. I can feel his chin on top of my head. I push away and run away from him.
I try to dry my eyes the best I can before I kiss the kids good-bye. When I walk into the kitchen, Hunter is on the floor on his knees, praying, with tears running down his cheeks. I quickly go next to him.
“Honey, what are you doing?” I can tell he is angry.
“I’m fighting with God. I hate him. He is a bad man.” He is so innocent.
“No, honey, don’t be mad. Be proud that he chose Daddy for such a special job.” I kiss his head and pull him close.
“Mommy, do you think Daddy wanted this job? Do you think he wanted to leave us? Why didn’t he say good-bye to us?” So many questions, and I don’t think I have the answer for any of them. I don’t have the heart to say the words, because Daddy was murdered.
I let out a deep breathe. “I don’t know, honey.” He looks up at me.
“Mommy, he won’t take you too, will he?” I feel the hot tears leaving my eyes.
“Oh no, honey, I am not going anywhere. I promise.” I hold him close and rock him back and forth. The tears just keep coming.
June 2013
I sit up in bed and see that it’s 3:30 on the dot. I get up and wash my face with warm water before I get back into bed. I started sleeping on Chase’s side of the bed. I yearn to smell him again; I miss the way he smelled. The mixture between his natural earthy cinnamon
smell, mixed with his cologne. I take a deep breathe through my nose in hopes I will smell him, but I don’t. Turning on the TV, I watch infomercials for two mind numbing hours, before I finally decide to get out of bed. Somehow watching some guy sell sports memorabilia makes me feel better. It reminds me of Chase sitting on the couch watching ESPN. The sound used to bother me, but what I wouldn’t give to watch him sitting there for hours again. I turn on the shower and stand for a while. I find that the shower soothes me, and gives me renewed strength. A motivation to fix myself up.
I proceed to do my new morning ritual of hair and makeup. Little by little, I can do this. It feels good to start doing these little things again. I look in the closet and realize I never did laundry, so I have no scrubs. Shit, now I have to get dressed. I take it as a sign to continue to do things to make me feel better about myself, if only physically. I find a pretty dress and grab my heels. Downstairs I put on the kettle. I’m in desperate need of caffeine. It’s one of the few vices, I still enjoy. Ella and Hunter run down together laughing. Our morning goes by fast, and we are out the door again. As I pull up to the school, Ella reminds me that it’s movie night and it’s her turn to pick.
“OK, lovey, whatever you want.” She looks happy and runs out the door. Hunter stops and kisses my cheek.
“I love you, Mommy,” he says quickly before he follows behind his sister.
Driving through rush hour traffic, I head to the hospital, and as I walk in the door, I remember Mrs. Grace’s son, Grant, has arrived. I bet he is just as gorgeous as his brothers. With that thought I smile and walk over to the elevators. When the doors open, I’m still smiling, and I see the most beautiful man. He looks at me with the most amazing eyes and smiles back. I quickly look down, because I know it has to be Grant. They all have the same beach-blue eyes. He is tall and has dark brown hair that looks as soft as silk. He is wearing black dress pants and a blue dress shirt that is tucked in; the top buttons are open, revealing the top of his tanned chest.
I step in and press the three and watch it light up. I can feel him behind me, and I can sense his eyes on me. It gives me the chills. I feel his magnetic pull, and my chest starts to pound loudly. I take a few deep breaths to quiet it down. Why am I reacting like this? He is a stranger. The doors open and I step out, making sure I don’t look behind me. I feel myself blush. I have never been like this; now I’m blushing like a schoolgirl at the sight of a man. Shit…
Michele pops her head in my door a few minutes later.
“Mrs. Grace is waiting for you. She’s had you paged five times already today. I don’t know how you do it, Hannah. She’s tough. She isn’t even pleasant to me, and I saved her life!” she laughs.
“She’s not as bad as you think; she is a sweet woman. I should get going; I bet she is yelling at someone right now.” I stand up.
“Wow, you look pretty today.” I look down and realize I should have changed when I got in.
“I have to go and get scrubs on.”
“Why bother? Just put on your lab coat. I told you, you don’t have to wear scrubs every day. You look pretty. Keep it on!” She is in a playful mood.
“Maybe I will.” After she walks away, I take my white lab coat off the hanger on the back of the door, slide it on, and clip on my ID. This will have to do.
The elevator doors open, and there he is again. I feel a lump in my throat; he is a sight for sore eyes. He has his hands in his pockets, and he is leaning against the back wall. His jawline is sharp, and I can see him clenching his jaw. He looks at me again with those breathtaking eyes. I give a half smile and start to press the seven, but it’s already lit up. I feel his eyes on me again. Then he takes a step closer, and I feel the pull again. Breathe Hannah. I can smell him; his smell reminds me of a memory, but I can’t place it. The elevator comes to a stop and the doors open. I tell myself to walk, and I do. I head right to Mrs. Grace’s room. I can feel him behind me.
“Oh, Hannah, you’re finally here. You look nice today.” She’s polite but seems distracted.
“Come here, dear, come sit. I want to introduce you to Grant. He left about twenty minutes ago, so he should be back soon.” With that said, I feel his eyes burning a hole through me, before I can see them. “Oh, Grant darling, this is Hannah. She is the one who has been taking great care of me.” I turn and put my hand out. I look up, and I’m met with those eyes that make me breathe a little faster. My chest instantly starts to rise and fall at a fast speed. He takes my hand. It is a giant, strong, calloused hand. He has long fingers that wrap around my hand.
“Grant Grace. Pleasure to meet you. My mother speaks highly of you,” he says with a smirk, looking at his mother.
“Hannah Redman. Nice to meet you, Mr. Grace. You mother is a wonderful patient.” He gives me an exaggerated look of shock. His face is heavenly to look at, and his lips are…oh my!
“Are you talking about my mother? She has never made a good patient. I have had hospitals call me, begging me to come and pick her up.” He laughs and winks at his mom. They are having a secret conversation with their eyes.
“Mr. Grace, I can assure you we will not do that here. She has been a perfect patient so far. Mrs. Grace, I’m going to review your chart and see how all your tests came back from yesterday. I will be back shortly.” I make eye contact with Mrs. Grace, then Grant. He looks amused by something; then he nods and gives me a beautiful smile. He has perfect, straight teeth, but then again, all the Grace men have perfect teeth. I try to get out of there before he can see me blush. I have never been affected by a man this way before. Well, Chase, but no one else, and I can feel a pang in my heart. Am I betraying him?
In the nurses’ station, I begin to read her chart. It all looks fine. I’ll have to talk to Michele about when she wants to discharge Mrs. Grace, maybe Friday. It’s Wednesday—thank God, my last day. Then I have off until Monday. I love these hours.
I head back to her room. Her IV needs to be changed, and she needs her meds. I have to hunt down pain management, and when I
tell them I will give Mrs. Grace her meds, they practically throw them at me. I walk back in with a fresh pitcher of water and her meds. My feet are killing me, because I am so not used to wearing heels at work. I walk around way too much, but I will not be the woman who wears a pretty dress, then puts on sneakers. Becca always tells me beauty is pain.
“Mrs. Grace, it’s time for your meds.” I place the cup of meds on the table in front of her and fill her glass with water. She obeys and puts the pills in her mouth, then takes a sip of water and swallows. I start to walk around the bed to get to the IV when I spot Grant over by the window. He is looking out the window talking on the phone; he is speaking Italian, I think. The conversation sounds mysterious and sexy. Changing her IV I notice she looks tired.
“Mrs. Grace.” She shoots a look at me. “Tori, are you OK? You look tired. Did you not sleep well last night?” She looks down.
“No, dear, I didn’t. I stayed up watching Grant work. I have missed him so much.” I smile at her and give her hand a squeeze. I can hear the three stooges entering the room. Shane smiles at me and walks over to Grant. They give a half shake and half hug. John follows after Shane, but Aiden stays in the doorway, leaning against it. He looks good today. He is wearing an orange short-sleeved shirt that shows off his tan and the tattoos on his arms. I never noticed the tattoos. I think back to yesterday and what he was wearing: a long sleeved-shirt, I think. His shirt is tucked into his jeans, showing off the perfect
V
his body forms. His belt is tan, and his jeans hang on his hips in a delicious way.
“Hey, little brother, are you too good to say hello? Come give your big brother a hug.” I know he is teasing him by the tone of his voice, but Aiden looks irritated.
“Fuck off, Grant.” Aiden sounds harsh. Mrs. Grace looks like they are ripping her newly fixed heart into pieces. Grant takes another step forward, and so does Aiden. Why are men like this? What is their problem? And why do they keep doing this in front of their sick mother? Both of their eyes narrow, and Aiden looks like he going to
start swinging. It is a pissing war in here, and neither of them is backing down. Why do I have to keep playing peacemaker?
“Out, now. All of you.” I can’t believe my voice. It startles me as much as it startles them. I put one hand on my hip and point the other to the hallway. Shane and John are out the door in a blink, and Aiden slowly steps back. Grant stands and stares at me.
“Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do? I’ll have your job if you ever talk to me like that again.” He is in my face, and I get right back in his.
“Mr. Grace, I do not appreciate your choice of words. You mother is a sick woman, and I have been dealing with these outbursts for days. If you would like her to be able to go home, I suggest you and your brothers keep your issues outside of this hospital. I have no tolerance for this behavior. May I suggest you leave to cool off?” I raise my eyebrows at him to get the point across. He is infuriated, and I could care less. He looks at his mother, who is smiling like a child who was just given candy.