Page 60 of Fourteen of a Kind

“It’s a yes.” I grinned.

He glanced at his watch. “I have to scrub in for surgery. I’ll see you later.” He walked over and kissed the top of my head.

“I saw that,” Grayson walked over, smiling. “May I?” He pointed to the chair across from me.

“Of course.”

“So, I see you two are getting along really well.” A smirk crossed his lips. “He seems like a great guy.”

“He is.”

“You know, Ella. I was really surprised yesterday when Ophelia revealed herself in front of him. None of the alters have done that with any of the guys you brought around. Not even Landon and you two were together for six months.”

“I know. She must have seen something in Graham that made her feel comfortable enough to want to meet him,” I said, glancing at my watch. “I have to run, Grayson. I have a patient coming in for an MRI.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.” He winked.

“Bye.” I smiled.

I went to my office and sat behind my desk.

“I just want you to know I had to lie to Christian.” My Grandma Barb walked in with my grandfather. “He saw us and asked what we were doing here.”

“And? What did you tell him?”

“That you had asked us to come by for lunch. Let’s get this over with.”

I stood from my desk and hooked my arm around hers. “It won’t take long, Grandma.”

“As ridiculous as this is, I’m only doing it for you.” She glanced at me.

“Thank you.” I kissed her cheek.

I took her to the MRI room and had her get on the table.

“Grandma, this is Laura. She’ll be in here with you while I’m in that room right there.” I pointed.

I sat in the control room and stared at the monitors while my grandmother’s brain was being scanned, waiting for the images to appear. The first image loaded, and the rest followed. As I stared at them, tears filled my eyes. I knew Uncle Jackson was at the hospital today, but I wasn’t sure if he was in surgery or not. Grabbing my pager, I paged him.

“Are you okay in there, Grandma? I asked over the speaker.

“I’m fine, darling.”

“Okay. Just a few more minutes.”

The door to the control room opened, and my Uncle Jackson walked in.

“You paged me?”

“Take a look at these.”

“There’s atrophy of the brain. Other than that, I don’t see anything else. Alzheimer’s patient?” Jackson stared at me momentarily, but I didn’t say a word. He looked through the window to the MRI room. “Oh God.” He ran his hand down his face.

“I was hoping and praying that it was a brain tumor, Uncle Jackson. I started noticing the signs last year.”

“I noticed a few things myself over the past couple of months. I was going to say something to her, but I thought I’d wait and see. How the hell did you get her to come in?”

“She put up a fight at first.”

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