I keep my eyes lowered, wanting to remember Lala as the smiling woman I’ve known all my life, not the fragile one lying in the bed. I curl her fingers around mine when she doesn’t do it on her own.
“I won’t relinquish her for a single dance. I won’t allow her to leave my sight for a second that night. I don’t think I’d be able to breathe without my arms around her. I’ll watch her closely, every smile, every glance, keeping a close eye on her face, the way her cheeks will pink as she enjoys the wine, and I’ll know Lala. I’ll know when it’s time to leave. Our babies are going to be beautiful, and she’s going to be gorgeous carrying them. I’ll pamper her, treat her like a queen every second I’m allowed to love her. I’ll cherish Leighton, Lala. I’ll do my best not to be like PopPop. I’ll try my hardest not to have to spend much time apologizing to her.”
I take a moment to wipe tears from my eyes on my shoulder because I can’t imagine pulling my hands from hers even for a second.
“If we have a girl, we’ll name her Rose. I won’t make her suffer with Imogene. I know you hate that name. I know I’m making a lot of promises, but I plan to keep every single one of them. You’ve always had faith in me, Lala, and it’s not misplaced. I love you.”
I press my forehead to our combined hands as the beeping from the machines change. I know what it means, and it kills me that there’s nothing that I can do about it.
Hospital staff come in and the beeping stops.
I know what that means too.
Chapter 36
Leighton
I slept for seven hours, woke up, ordered food for delivery, ate, and then went right back to sleep.
I’m still a little out of it when a text from an unknown number wakes me up at two-thirty in the morning.
Lala had a heart attack. He needs you.
It didn’t come from Gaige’s phone. I blocked his number. It was the only step I could take to try to be strong. If he called or messaged propositioning me, I know I couldn’t resist. The walls were nonexistent, and hope is a fickle dangerous thing.
My heart is pounding in my chest as I fly out of bed. I grab literally nothing. I change into clothes decent enough for public, grab my wallet, phone, and I leave.
I book a flight in the cab on the way to the airport. Going to him is instinctual. I don’t ask questions.
A second text comes as I’m boarding my flight which includes the name of the hospital and Lala’s full, legal name. I stare at it until my phone threatens to die, and then I have to darken my screen to conserve the battery. The ride to the hospital is spent with twitching fingers and a knee that won’t stop shaking. The cabbie doesn’t seem to mind. The man is lost in his own world, and I’m grateful for the lack of forced small talk.
By the time I get to the information desk at the hospital, it’s been five hours since I received the text.
“Good morning,” the woman says in greeting as I approach.
“Hi. I need the room number for Imogene Rose Ward.”
Her fingers work over the keyboard in front of her, and then I see it. The flinch. I work with people. I’m an expert in tells. I know it’s bad news. The worst news.
“No,” I whisper, pain hitting me in the chest, knotting my stomach.
She raises her eyes to mine. “I’m so sorry.”
I know she’s going to tell me that she can’t give me any information, but she already revealed the secret I was hoping wasn’t going to be true. I back away slowly, the tears already pooling in my eyes. I manage to nod, but words right now are impossible. I hope my weak smile is enough.
Exiting the hospital, I stand to the side and cry for a woman I barely knew, a woman I met only once, remembering the way she clung to Gaige when we were leaving like she just couldn’t get enough of his warmth. Her eyes fluttered closed as if he had the ability to breathe life back into her tired bones, as if he was the boy she loved most in the world.
Lala’s death for Gaige won’t be the same as my grandparents’ deaths were for me. He was loved by her. He has lost something, someone that brought value to his life.
I pull my phone from my pocket and fire off a text.
Where is he?
Office.
I’m not nervous this time heading to BBS. My fingers aren’t trembling. My knee isn’t shaking. I’m determined. He needs me, and although I have no idea how I’m going to be received, I’ll be what he needs. If he needs a shoulder, I have two. If he tells me to fuck off, I can do that as well, but I need him to know the options are his.