Page 22 of Waiting for Her

“I’m fine, Mom. It was hard to see her last night is all. Would’ve been a heck of a lot easier to see her if she’d miraculously gotten ugly,” I joke.

She gives me a half smile.

“Do me a favor?”

“You know I can’t say no to you.”

My mom smiles, her blue eyes twinkling. “I’m counting on it. I want you to hear her out, for both of your benefits, okay? It will do your heart good to have it sorted.”

I take a deep breath, knowing she’s right but not wanting to admit it out loud. I’ve kind of gotten used to the anger, and I’m not too fond of letting it go just because she’s back.

“Remember what started it all, her fear that love wasn’t enough. Butweknow it is. Anger isn’t worth holding onto, Grady. It will blacken that beautiful heart of yours. I love you. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become. I’m always only a phone call away.”

“I love you, too.”

She pats me on the leg and stands up. I follow and give her a hug before she joins the rest of the family while I turn to leave.

I step out of the hospital and into the cool early morning air, reminding me of how much I love summers in Michigan. The temperatures are tolerable even in the heat of the day, but the mornings? They’re perfection. I take a deep breath. So much has happened in the last eight hours, my body feels like it’s running solely on adrenaline. Mia was lucky she barreled through delivery fairly quickly. In fact, our parents only waited at the hospital for a few hours after they arrived. I called them and told them Mia was in labor, and I’m pretty sure they broke a few speed limit zones to get here in time.

I make my way to my pickup and feel my phone buzz in my pocket.

Bri:I know I don’t have a right to even ask, and you probably deleted my number from your phone, so this might not even go through, but how is everyone? Baby yet?

I’m standing in the middle of the parking lot. Feet glued to the asphalt as I stare at the screen.

No, I never deleted her number.

I didn’t have the heart to go through with it, no matter how many times my thumb hovered over her name.

Not that it would have mattered. Deleting her number wouldn’t have deleted her from my mind.

“Dammit,” I mutter, shoving a hand through my hair and squinting at the sun starting to make its appearance in the early dawn hours.

I climb into my pickup, drive to the nearest coffee shop, and order a large black coffee and breakfast sandwich to go. I know if I don’t grab something before I go home, I’ll be too tired to make anything, so I’m willing to wait for a few minutes. It’s just long enough to give me time to contemplate whether or not I should reply to Bri’s text.

And long enough to remind myself I’m not a dick, nor could I ever ignore her.

I take a seat as the barista brings me my coffee and tells me the sandwich will be another few minutes. I nod my thanks.

Me:I didn’t delete your number.

Me:Anderson Jarrett Ryan arrived a few hours ago. Healthy. 8 lbs 7 oz and 21 inches long.

I smile, feeling proud of myself for remembering the details my mom told me were important and that everyone would ask.

Bri:Oh my heart. His name!

Bri:Uncle Grady ?

I let out a low laugh and look out the window, letting the side of my head rest against it as my left ankle sits atop my right knee.

When I saw her at the bar, I felt like my emotions were at war with themselves. So freaking elated to see her again, I only wanted to take her in my arms, kiss the crap out of her and remind her of what we were.

When Brandon was on stage talking about me, my accomplishments, I couldn’t help but glance in her direction.

An ugly moment of pride swelled up inside me, hoping she was feeling a pang of regret for not being by my side in that moment. But if I’m being honest with myself, deep down I wanted her there with me, like she was always meant to be.

I watch as the three little bubbles appear and disappear a few times.

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