Page 55 of Confessions of the Funny Fat Friend

The person on the phone said not to sit her up until the medics arrived in case there was a spinal injury. And then it was on us to wait.

“Can you help me put a skirt on?” Grandma asked.

I gave her a look. “You trying to get fancy for the EMTs?”

“I can’t be seen like this. So... frail.” Her voice sounded frail as she said it. Frail, but stubborn. “Please, Hen?”

I couldn’t argue with her, so I carefully slid her pants off without moving her legs and then got the most forgiving skirt I could find and carefully shimmied it up her hips. She cringed when I slid it under her backside, but as soon as it was on, she seemed to settle.

“When are they getting here?” she demanded. “Did they send a student driver?”

I let out a relieved laugh as I checked my phone. That was the grandma I knew. “Average response time for our area is seven minutes. It’s been five.”

As if on time, the front door rang, and I said, “I’m going to let them in, but I’ll be with you every step, okay?”

Her eyes watered as she held my hand. “I’m sorry to ruin your day with your friends.”

“They’re my friends; you’re myfamily.” I held her weathered hand in mine. “I would do anything for you, Grandma.”

She squeezed my hand and then let go so I could answer the door. There were three paramedics in blue uniforms, one carrying a gurney. It all happened in a flash, showing them where she was, following them out the door, and getting into the ambulance with my grandma strapped to a board and her trying not to make a sound with each bump the ambulance hit.

As we drove, I called my mom and dad, telling them we were on the way to the hospital, then I texted Mara to let her know I wasn’t coming this morning.

When we reached the hospital, they wheeled Grandma back to imaging and told me which ER room to wait in. I paced the small space, the fluorescent lighting hurting my head just as much as Grandma’s helplessness had hurt my heart.

I’d expected, prepared for, Grandma to struggle for a year, maybe two, like Grandpa had, but I hadn’t considered a broken bone. If it was bad, she could be in a wheelchair for years. And my parents couldn’t help her all day every day to get the things she needed. The thought of my vibrant, spirited, opinionated grandma being relegated to a cold, impersonal nursing home... it made my stomach churn.

I was about to break when the doors pushed open and Grandma was wheeled into the room. They transferred her onto the bed and then helped her get comfortable before saying a doctor would be in to let us know the results of her X-rays, along with her next steps. I just hoped she’d be able to make them at home.

29

Tyler

Since I knew Henrietta wouldn’t be by this morning, I ordered coffee and donuts for the guys. She was right—beer and pizza were a great way to make friends, but breakfast was the best way to start the day.

I set up the table myself and then helped the delivery person lay out the food and drink. With it all ready to go, I called the guys over. “Grab some breakfast! We’ve got a long day of work ahead!”

“You’re in a good mood, boss,” Rich said, coming up beside me with a donut in hand.

I was beginning to like this guy, even though he still called me boss despite all my protestations. “Iamin a good mood,” I admitted. It’s not like I could deny it. I’d worn a smile on my face since my first date with Henrietta, and the thought of going to a wedding with her as her date... It meant we were moving forward. Together.

But then I saw a slick car pull up to the job site. And a heeled leg extend from the cab and settle on the ground.

“Shit,” I muttered.

Rich followed my gaze and murmured, “Corporate. Good luck.”

It wasn’t my kind of corporate. Jimmy was laid back, and anyone else he hired to work with him had the same down-to-earth attitude.

No, this was Janessa, dressed to kill. She had on a sleek black dress that hugged her toned body. Her blond hair was curled, her lips blood red, and her heels the expensive, pointy kind my sister would never wear.

At the sight of me, her lips curled into a deadly, seductive smile, and she crooned, “Tyler Griffen, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” She was looking at my Crenshaw Construction T-shirt like she wanted to rip it off my body.

I folded my arms over my chest as she neared. “Janessa, we weren’t expecting to see you here.”

She touched my arm with her hand, decorated with pointy red nails. “Henrietta’s out of the office this week, so I wanted to check in. See if there was...” She slowly wet her lips. “Anything you needed?”

I suppressed a shudder. Maybe I would have been into this even a few months ago, but now it made my skin crawl. I wanted to send the clear message that our relationship would remain professional. “We’re making great progress here. Pouring the foundation for the second floor this week, and when it cures, we’ll be on to the third.”

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