Page 94 of Campus Crush
“Yeah, she did, and maybe we can learn from her mistake because I don’t think it was right that she didn’t tell us.”
It honestly felt like a betrayal that she would keep this from us—especially after everything we’d already been through as a family—but it explained so much of her behavior over the past several months.
Her trips down memory lane in the attic.
The way she’d watch us like she was trying to memorize it all.
A thought suddenly hit me and I turned to Foster. “Didn’t you have practice this morning? And classes?” Iadded as I checked the clock. It was almost nine, and I knew the hockey team usually had early morning practices.
“I called Coach this morning to get out of practice, and I’m skipping my classes today. I thought I’d help you guys out here and then we can drive into town together. I can do food runs or whatever while you stay at the hospital and visit with Gram. That way you don’t have to worry about anything but spending time with her.”
He was too good to be true. Emotion bubbled in my throat as I got up and wrapped my arms around his neck. He held me close like he needed that hug as much as I did. His hands rubbed gentle circles on my back, and I fought back a fresh wave of tears at his soothing touch.
“Thank you.”
His eyes warmed with an emotion I was afraid to name as he looked down at me. “You don’t have to thank me, Abby. I want to be here for you.”
“Okay, that’s my cue to go. You guys look like you’re about to make out,” Mason said as he pushed back his chair and left the kitchen. There was a hint of teasing in his voice that I hadn’t heard in ages.
“What were you guys talking about earlier?” I asked Foster after Mason had disappeared down the hallway.
We sat down at the kitchen table, but he kept his hand on my leg, the contact warming me from the inside out. His thumb traced small circles on my knee, and the gentle touch grounded me.
“Not much,” he said. “Sports mostly, football specifically.”
“You know football?”
He gave me a look, and a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “I live in Montana. Of course I know football. Just because I play hockey doesn’t mean I don’t also enjoyfootball.” He nodded his head in the direction my brother had disappeared to. “You know, he’s a pretty cool kid. It was nice getting to know him a little better.”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done, and I know you told me I don’t need to say thank you,” I said hurriedly as he opened his mouth. “But I want to tell you that it means a lot to me to have you here. But you don’t have to come to the hospital if you have other things to do. I know you’ve got a big series of games coming up this week.”
Now that the season was well underway, they were trying to maintain their lead in the conference so they could go to the state playoffs in February.
He squeezed my hand. “Missing a day won’t ruin anything. I’m right where I need to be.”
The sincerity in his voice made my throat tight. I took a sip of the coffee he’d placed in front of me, buying time to compose myself. It was perfectly prepared—just the right amount of cream and sugar. Another small detail that showed how much attention he paid to the little things about me.
Foster’s hand was warm in mine, his presence a silent support as we approached Gram’s hospital room. Mason walked slightly behind us. He’d been tense since we parked the car.
The nurse at the station recognized us from yesterday and gave us a sympathetic smile. “She’s awake and had a decent night,” she said quietly. “The doctor will be by again in about an hour.”
I nodded my thanks, steeling myself before entering theroom. The whole way here, I’d hoped she would be awake and alert today, but now I was scared to face her. To have the conversation I knew we needed to have.
Foster squeezed my hand, and his touch gave me the last little bit of strength I needed.
The first thing I noticed when I pushed open her door was that Gram looked even smaller than she had yesterday, her skin nearly as pale as the white hospital sheets. The machines around her beeped steadily, monitoring her vital signs. But unlike yesterday, her eyes were open, and when she saw us, her face lit up with a smile that still held traces of the vibrant woman she’d always been, although I didn’t miss the guilt in her eyes.
“Hey there,” she said, her voice weaker than I’d ever heard it.
Mason approached first, awkwardly leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Hey, Gram.”
I followed, gently taking her hand, mindful of the IV line. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, about as well as can be expected,” she said, her attempt at humor breaking my heart. Her gaze shifted to Foster, who stood respectfully near the door. “It’s nice to see you again, Foster.”
“You too. Wish it were under better circumstances.”
Gram looked down and cleared her throat before pasting a smile on her face. “Yes, well, any young man who shows up at the hospital during a family crisis is worth keeping, I’d say.”
