6. Effie
6
EFFIE
T he instant I saw the grim expression on one of the nurse’s faces as we walked through the care home, I knew.
So, when we slipped into Grams’ room, at least it wasn’t a surprise when she turned and looked straight through me.
She didn’t say a word. It’s all I can do to suck in my next breath as pain radiates through me.
The second Kieran saw it, he reached for my hand and squeezed in support to let me know that he was there.
It helped—of course it did. His presence over the past few hours has meant everything to me. But it’s never going to be quite enough, because he can’t fix this.
No one can.
I have no other option but to sit around here and wait for this hideous disease to steal the most important person in my life.
But despite feeling like I’m dying inside, I don’t let it show.
If experience has taught me anything, it’s that things can flip on a dime, and any second she could find herself again. When—if—that happens, she won’t see me sad and miserable.
She deserves better than that. So instead, I attempt to swallow down the giant lump of emotion in my throat and hold my head high as I walk to her bedside.
Kieran watches the entire thing. His concerned stare burns into me as I greet Grams and kiss her on her cool cheek, but he doesn’t say a word. Not until I make it obvious that it’s his turn to talk to her.
Watching him lift her tiny hand to his lips so he can kiss her knuckles makes the ball of emotion clogging my throat grow even larger, but I just about hold myself together.
“I took Effie to a fancy new spa this morning,” he starts as he lowers his ass to the farthest chair from her, knowing full well that I’ll want to take the closest. “You’ve been treated like a queen, isn’t that right, Effie?”
I smile at him, loving how he so easily falls into this. I know it’s awkward and uncomfortable talking to someone who clearly has no idea who you are. I’m sure he’s got a million other things he could be doing right now. But he isn’t. He’s here with us.
His words from earlier in the jacuzzi come back to me, and guilt floods through my veins.
“I mean it, Effie. Anything you need, anything you want, all you’ve got to do is tell me. I’d raise hell for you if necessary, and you know it.”
He would, too. Which is why I feel so awful for keeping my mouth shut about what I’ve done.
I’ve never lied to Kieran. Hell, I’ve never lied to Grams before either, and yet here we are.
I tell myself like I have done a million times over the past few weeks, that it’s a means to an end.
My fingers drop to my ring, and I twist it around, hoping that it’ll calm my nerves and banish my guilt. But it doesn’t. It makes me feel worse, because with Grams lost in her own mind, it means I don’t need to shift the ring to the other hand and keep up this facade.
Pushing all that aside, I reach for her hand and continue what Kieran started, telling her all about the spa this morning.
She stares at me as if she’s listening intently to what I have to say, but I know she’s not. I doubt she even hears my words.
The only noise she makes is to cough, and each time she does, it’s like someone pulls another strip of my heart away.
Back in the day, she was a smoker, and it’s left her lungs wrecked. Every time she gets even a cold, it goes straight to her chest.
She’s been battling a cough for years, but recently, it’s changed. It’s deeper, rattlier.
I’m busy telling Grams about my mani-pedi and all the colors I had to choose from and how impossible it was without her help when one of her nurses joins us.
“Good afternoon,” she says, smiling brightly at me before turning to Grams. “How are you feeling, Nora?” Predictably, she doesn’t get a response, but that doesn’t stop her. Laura chats away as if they’re in a full-blown conversation as she does her checks. It’s impressive, but then, I guess it is her job.
“And this young man that Effie has brought with her?” Laura starts, making me cringe. “Phew, if only I was thirty years younger. She’s found herself a good one there.”
My heart launches into my throat, and my eyes jump to Kieran’s. Thankfully, his expression instantly settles me. He’s got a soft smile playing on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. He’s loving this. I really shouldn’t be surprised.
Pushing from his seat, he moves a little closer and holds his hand out.
“I’m Kieran,” he says, introducing himself.
“Oh, sweetie,” Laura says, blushing. “I know exactly who you are.”
“Right,” Kieran mutters, shooting me a look.
“These two here never stop talking about you.”
“Oh god,” I complain. “Don’t listen to her; it’s all lies.”
“Grams loves me,” he says with a nonchalant shrug before dropping back into his seat.
“How is she doing?” I ask, turning the conversation away from Kieran’s ego.
Laura’s sigh is all the answer I need.
“She’s struggling with this cough. I’m afraid it’s turned into an infection. We’ve given her antibiotics, and we’re hoping we’ve caught it early enough.”
But what if you haven’t?
I swallow down that question. It doesn’t need asking. We’re all achingly aware of the outcome here.
“Has she been like this all day?”
“On and off. She was better this morning. We had a chat about the weather and the birdsong outside.”
It’s like she wraps a band around my chest and squeezes tightly.
I wasn’t here.
Glancing at Kieran, I see guilt etched in his features.
It’s not his fault, though. He was trying to do something nice for me.
He did. And it was amazing.
I just…I should have been here.
I have time to do amazing things once I’m no longer needed.
My priority now has to be Grams.
“That’s good,” I force out.
“I’m sorry I don’t have more positive news,” Laura says before finishing up and leaving us alone once again.
“I’m sorry,” Kieran whispers after long, silent seconds.
Shaking my head, I look up at him through my lashes. “Not your fault. None of this is your fault.”
He smiles sadly.
“Are you hungry?”
I think for a moment. I should be—it’s been hours since our breakfast—but I’m not. “No.”
“Effie,” he warns.
“I know, I know. It’s just…” I look at Grams, and my stomach tumbles again.
How can I sit here and eat like everything is okay?
“You can go and get something,” I offer.
He scoots forward in his chair, his eyes holding mine.
“I will, if you promise to eat something.”
Just the thought of food makes me feel sick, but he’s right, so I nod anyway.
“Any requests?” he asks as he stands.
“No, whatever you want is great. Can you get me an?—”
“Iced coffee?” he finishes for me. He knows me too well.
“Yeah.”
“You got it. Be good while I’m gone.”
He leaves the room, the sound of his heavy footsteps drifting away, and everything instantly gets harder.
I don’t think I really appreciated just how lonely and heartbreaking this entire situation is. His support and friendship since he got here has made it all so much easier.
He’ll be back , I tell myself.
But it does little to lessen the pain.
Ripping my eyes from the door, I focus on Grams once again. Her eyes are closed, her face soft and peaceful as her chest rises and falls gently. Her breathing is rattly; I can hear it from here, reminding me that all is not well.
I sink lower in the chair and just watch her, silently praying for a different outcome but knowing it’s impossible.
Soon, I’m going to have to return to normal life. To Chicago, my job, my apartment.
But as much as I might miss normality, I’m nowhere near ready to deal with everything that needs to happen to get me there.
Aware that I need to let my father know what’s happening, I pull my cell from my purse and wake it up.
I scan my emails. There are five from Jasmine that I need to read and deal with, but they can wait. I also have a message from Brax, Kieran’s teammate, checking in to make sure I’m okay. I appreciate the hell out of his friendship and concern but I ignore it for now and pull up my chat thread with my father.
A bitter laugh tumbles from my lips as I take in the stream of one-way messages.
I add another to the long list, letting him know that she’s declining.
I’ve been updating him every week on Grams’ condition. He never replies. And on the rare occasion he does, I know it’s his assistant who’s sent it.
I’m not sure what pisses me off more—the fact he doesn’t reply, or when he has someone else pretend that he cares.
I should stop messaging really. But I can’t help hoping that one day he might just realize what he’s about to lose. It’s a lost cause, I know it is, but I can’t let it go.
I let out a pained sigh and slump lower in the chair.
I’ve got a million things that I want to say to Grams, but no words pass my lips. I should confess my sins, but the thought of her learning that her one wish for me has been based on lies ensures the words stay firmly locked inside.
Slipping the ring from the right hand, I push it onto my ring finger and study it.
It’s where it’s lived for the last month or so while I’ve happily lived in fantasy land.
Seeing the happiness on Grams’ face made the lie so easy.
I told myself that I was going to tell Kieran. It was inevitable that he was going to turn up at some point. But there was never a good time. He was so focused on the playoffs, and then his disappointment when it didn’t go their way. I didn’t want to stress him out further.
I figured that I could tell him when he got here. But facing him, the weight of my lie was too much and I chickened out.
I had the perfect opportunity to tell him earlier in the jacuzzi. And again, I choked.
He’ll understand. I know he will.
Hell, he literally told me he’d do anything to make me happy.
He’d agree to keep up this charade to make Grams happy. He’d probably delight in making it look even more realistic.
I just…
What if he gets completely freaked out and runs?
It might be unlikely, but the fear is still there. He’s spent his entire life telling me that he doesn’t want to have a serious relationship or get married and do the whole two-point-five kids thing. His career is his life, and he doesn’t want a distraction. The last thing I want to do is tell him what I’ve done and scare him off.
I sit there in silence, toying with my “engagement” ring and talking myself into a tailspin.
I’m not usually this much of a mess. I’ve never second-guessed myself so much in my life. I put it down to the grief and stress I’m currently experiencing.
I have no idea how much time passes; all I do know is that nothing changes around me until the door is pushed open and the scent of food wafts through the room.
“I got your favorite,” Kieran announces, wincing when he notices that Grams is sleeping. “Sorry.”
He passes a takeout bag over, and despite my nose confirming that it is indeed my favorite, my stomach turns over in protest.
“Please, Effie. Try. For me.”