Page 26 of Hot Chicken

“Hey, sweets. How’ve you been holding up?” Jo asks. I hate that I’ve had to leave him in a lurch lately. The doctor says it’s simply a coincidence that Pops has been admitted to the hospital several times since the storm came through. But I can’t help blaming his decline on going without oxygen for a few hours and shuffling between our mobile home and The Sugar Plum Inn. His cardiologist warned us that things could get worse.

Pops is on borrowed time. More than half of heart failure patients survive about five years after their diagnosis. Pops is on year seven. His heart is weak, but he’s done everything asked of him. He’s watched his diet, limited fluids, attended cardiac rehab, and is compliant with his medications. But his condition is progressive, and I have to brace myself that the time may come sooner than I’m prepared for.

“It’s been tough, Jo. The doctor pulled me aside when Pops was in the hospital and gave me information on Hospice. He said that I needed to be prepared if Grandpa reaches a point where little could be done to help him. I’m grateful they’ve kept him with me longer than expected. But I’m still not ready for him to go.” A sniffle escapes. Pops is all I have left. I know I’ll manage. But I’m not ready to feel orphaned.

The thought has me thinking of Matt and his beginnings. It’s still hard to wrap my head around the fact his parents found him in an orphanage in Russia and brought him here. I’m glad he has Harrison. Particularly since his mother’s health is declining rapidly.

“You know you’ll always have me,” Jo says, placing his hand on my upper back.

“Thank you. That means more than you know.” At least I won’t be completely alone in this world. “Did I tell you I got a visit from Faith Builders recently? They wanted to talk to me and Pops about building a two-bedroom cottage on the farm.

“No kidding.” Jo perks up. “That’s perfect.”

“I turned them down.”

“What? Now why would you go and do something like that?” He seems astonished.

“It didn’t seem right, Jo. At any moment, I may have to put Pops in a nursing home or, worse, six feet under. That seems like an overgenerous offer for one person with all of the families out there who could use the help.”

Jo rubs his chin, at least giving me the benefit of the doubt on this one.

“I don’t entirely know what I’m going to do when the time comes. I guess I need to sort that out. Pops said he’s willing the farm to me. I’m not sure what it’s worth. There should be enough land to sell off a portion if needed. Then I could either combine that money with my winnings at the festival to secure a new restaurant or rent a place of my own.”

“You’re pretty sure you’re winning that Best on the Beach prize money.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” I have to. There’s no other way. I can’t sell fried chicken out of a gas station for the rest of my life.

“What’s going on with Matt?”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since your hot date.”

I ponder Jo’s statement. I actually haven’t seen much of him, either. He’s called and texted a few times. But with Pops being in and out of the hospital and him preparing to leave soon, I understand why we need to pull back. It’s going to be hard enough once he returns home. “We both know there’s an expiration date looming. I need to focus on what’s really important right now.”

Keeping Pops out of the hospital and winning Best on the Beach.

Chapter 24

Ellie

Things around here have been rough lately. Pops had another hospital admission. I worry one of these visits will be his last.

I’ve tried to take some time to start downsizing. Yet it’s hard to get motivated, knowing the depressing reason for it. I’ve gathered up things to be donated and taken a few items that have been overly loved to the dump. I’m trying to be stealthy about it. So Pops doesn’t think I’m closing up shop before he’s ready to go.

Grandpa’s decided when it’s time, he’s comfortable spending the remainder of his days in a skilled nursing facility versus at home. I’m sure he knows how hard it’d be for me to watch him die there. He’s always put me first.

Knock. Knock.

That’s odd. We never have visitors. My heart skips a beat, hoping I’ll find Matthew on the other side of the door. “Hello?”

“Hi. I’m Stephanie with Faith Builders. You spoke with one of my colleagues the other day. I hope I’m not intruding.”

I recover from my disappointment and step out onto the porch, so I don’t have to suffer anyone else’s expression when they take in our home. “No intrusion. It’s just me today. My grandpa is in rehab at the moment.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. They explained you weren’t interested in being considered for a home build, given his situation. But something else has come up, and I wanted to speak with you.”

“Oh?” I admit my curiosity is piqued. It hasn’t escaped me that I’ve only received these inquiries from them since Matt came to town. But I know his heart is in the right place. Whether a relationship would work out for us or not, he’s sweet to be so concerned.

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