Page 43 of Fake It Till We Fall
Grandma had gone to bed just over an hour ago, completely exhausted from the evening. She’d looked so alive and vibrant earlier, it was easy for me to forget that she was sick at all. But then, as we’d hung the final few ornaments, a shot of pain in her lower abdomen had her clenching her stomach.
I settled her back into the couch and fetched her bottle of pills and a cup of water. It hurt to see her in pain. Especially when there was nothing I could do to help her. Except be there.
I’d finished hanging the last few decorations, showing her the salt-dough handprint I’d made in kindergarten, adorned with green glitter, most of which had rubbed off over the years. It was cracked and worn, but Grandma declared it her favorite.
Just like every other ornament we’d pulled out of the box and hung.
By the time we were done, I’d seen the fatigue in her face and the way her shoulders slumped when she thought I wasn’t looking. She’d excused herself early, claiming she wanted to read for a bit before turning in.
“It was a perfect evening, Harper.” She’d clasped my hands in hers, tears shining in her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, Grandma.” I squeezed her as tightly as I dared, holding the moment in my heart.
I took a long sip of wine and made a mental note to reach out again to her doctor. Privacy rules be dammed. He’d known me almost my entire life; surely, he’d understand what I was dealing with when it came to Grandma. She’d been so tight-lipped about it all. Only telling me she wassickandshe wasn’t going to live forever.
As much as I didn’t want to know, Ineededto know what we were up against and whether I should be making longer-term care plans for her.
Or thinking about changing my own plans completely.
My phone buzzed on the table, startling me.
Still waiting to hear from you, Harper. We’d love to have you aboard for the season. Are you ready to commit?
My stomach twisted. The job was everything I’d been working for. Head chef on a super-yacht in the Med. Captain Howard had more faith in me than I probably deserved, but it would be the career boost that some chefs waited their whole lives for. I’d be crazy to turn it down.
But…
My eyes drifted to Grandma’s closed bedroom door.
Sorry. I’ll let you know soon.
I typed back, my fingers hesitating over the words before I hit Send. Noncommittal and cowardly. It wasn’t a good look in my industry.
We want you for the season, Harper. But we can’t wait forever.
I was lucky he was waiting at all. I swallowed hard and set the phone down again, losing myself in the glowing lights of the tree, in an effort to steady myself.
I took a slow sip of my wine, but before I could swallow, my phone buzzed with another text.
I hope the decorating went well. I had a lot of fun with you today.
Instantly, my worry was replaced with heat in my chest. I snapped a picture of the tree glowing in the dark and sent it back to him.
Thank you for today. Grandma loves the tree. So do I.
It wasn’t what I wanted to say. Not really. I wanted to tell him how much I’d enjoyed spending time with him all day and…the kiss.
Noncommittal and cowardly.
It wasn’t a good look in life either.
Three dots appeared as he typed a response. I held my breath.
It’s beautiful. I’m glad you both love it.
I leaned back into the cushions, my wine forgotten. Grayson had known exactly what Grandma needed this Christmas. Maybe even what I needed. He always did.
He’d been the boy who fixed all the things and showed up when no one else did. Now, he was the man who still did.
