Chapter Twenty-Two Maya
Chapter Twenty-Two
Maya
Me: I’m not sure if I thanked you for dinner. If I didn’t, I’m sorry. I really loved it. I’m even eating the mango sticky rice for breakfast, lol.
Jordan: Sounds like I need to surprise you with Thai again.
Me: I mean . . .
Jordan: You want me to, but your head is all over the place.
My thumbs hovered over the screen as I debated whether I should tell him that before I’d gone to bed, I spent some time researching his family.
Everything I’d learned confirmed what he had said.
They were extremely philanthropic; they had multiple charities supporting the residents of Boston along with the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.
They offered scholarships to athletes to keep them in state and internships for colleges in and surrounding the city.
But when I’d closed out the browser and set my phone on my nightstand to go to bed, I still couldn’t shake that feeling. The pain that had haunted me for the last twenty-one years.
Me: Last night’s conversation helped. You need to know that.
Jordan: I’m glad it did.
“Oh, honey, are you going to come give me my meds, or are you going to stare at me from the doorway like I’m some specimen your kind examines under one of those fancy microscopes?” Bettie said from her bed.
“Pathology is above my pay grade.”
She waved the air. “Is that look your way of telling me that by bringing you and my grandson together, I’ve ruffled your feathers and you’re angry with me?”
“This look is me being in awe of you.”
I came into her room and set the cup of pills on her tray.
I’d been anticipating this conversation since Jordan had left my apartment last night.
Before my research had shifted to the Worthington empire, I’d spent several hours deep within Google, learning more about Bettie’s history.
I’d even started reading one of the many books that had been written about her.
She slowly bobbed her head. “Now, why would you be in awe of me?”
I took a seat on the side of her bed. “Jordan told me a little about you.”
“Ah.” She paused. “This smile isn’t because you know about me.” She pointed at her lips. “It’s because you spent time with my grandson.”
I laughed. “He surprised me and brought dinner to my apartment.”
“Did he?”
“A favorite, which I hear is also your favorite.”
She pushed down her glasses and stared at me over the rim. “That boy brought you Thai, didn’t he?”
“He sure did. I have some leftovers in the fridge that I’ll bring you for lunch. Just don’t tell anyone where you got it from.”
“Deal.” She reached up and touched my cheek. “I hope this means things are back on track with you and my grandson?”
I clasped my hand around hers, locking her there. Her fingers were comforting, something I’d never gotten from my mother. I’d spent my childhood touching her face, not the other way around. “There’s movement. But back on the same track again? No.”
“You’ll get there.”
“Jordan said something similar last night.”
“That’s because my grandson is just like me.” She patted my cheek.
“In what way?”
“When we want something, we let nothing stop us.”
I glanced toward the window; the sky was as moody as it had been during my run, a dreary and overcast day. When I returned to Bettie, I smiled. “I read that about you.”
“Honey, those are just stories. Speculation for clickbait. Except, back in my day, when I still owned my company, the media was a bit kinder than it is now. The real truth, that wasn’t talked about. It wasn’t shown or revealed. Just like Jordan doesn’t show his real truth.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
She sat up a little higher. “There are endless words written about my rise and achievements, but the meat behind those stories were the moments I spent in my office at two and three in the morning, the exhaustion causing tears I had to fight through. Or when I missed my children’s games and plays, and the agony I would feel from it.
Or the hours I would spend flying back and forth to Europe and Asia, where the cold, dark plane would send me into a mental spiral that I didn’t know if I would come back from.
” She broke eye contact and stared across the room.
“Those were the moments that should have been documented. The times when I didn’t know I would make it through.
But they couldn’t be described by anyone other than me, and I would never talk about them.
The same way Jordan won’t talk about what his moments look like. ”
“The ones that made him a successful hockey player?”
“The ones when he’s most vulnerable about you.”
“Oh.” My hand went to my chest when I felt a pang rumble through.
“The ones where he runs his heart out and you aren’t there.
The ones where he returns home, and he’s slapped with the quietness and thoughts of you.
The ones where he’s desperate to hear your voice and feel your presence and you’re not there.
” Her hands flattened in her lap. “They say a man’s real intentions show when he watches his future wife walk down the aisle.
I disagree. I think it shows during the hardest periods of their relationship and how he chooses to act and present himself.
” She pushed her glasses back up. “Our minds are our worst enemy, Maya. And I know what Jordan’s mind has been doing to him. ”
“Has he told you?”
“He doesn’t need to. I see it.”
The darkness under his eyes that the frames of his glasses couldn’t hide, showing he wasn’t getting much sleep. On his way out, when I’d asked him about his running, and he’d mentioned he was up to eight miles a morning—three more miles than he normally ran.
“I don’t know what to do, Bettie.”
Her hand lifted again. This time, it clasped mine. “You will.”
Jordan: You’re a few hours post-run. How’s the body feeling today?
Me: Tight.
Jordan: Maya, you’re fucking killing me . . .
Me: Lol. But it is! Did you get in eight miles this morning?
Jordan: Nine.
Me: Nine? What time did you start?
Jordan: 4:30
Me: Were you up extra early, or you just didn’t go to bed?
Jordan: A little of both.
Me: If it makes you feel better, I was too.
Jordan: What’s eating at you?
Me: You mean, aside from you? Lol. My mom . . . she’s jobless again. When that happens, a lot falls on my shoulders. I’m used to carrying half of her weight, but when she’s unemployed, I seem to carry it all.
Jordan: Do you want to talk about it?
Me: I just did. Thank you.
“Let’s talk dinner,” Emily said as she stood in front of the nurses’ station where I was sitting, stretching her arms across until her hands were on my wrists. “I’m starving and I can’t stop thinking about food.”
“We have another”—I glanced at the time on the computer screen—“three hours until we’re out of here.”
“Talking about dinner will help me get through it.” She sighed.
“There’s a ton of leftover Thai in the fridge at home. There’s even some in the fridge here that I couldn’t finish. Help yourself to it.”
Emily squeezed me. “That was sweet, by the way.”
“To offer you my food?”
“For Jordan to bring it.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t ‘oh’ me. The man is trying. Hard.”
“I swear, everywhere I look, the universe is trying to push us together. Even on my run this morning, I saw the Worthington Enterprises logo at least twice.”
“It’s a sign.”
I shook my head. “It’s a coincidence.”
“Are you really trying to convince yourself of that?”
I rubbed my lips together, spreading my lip balm. “You and Bettie are laying it on extra thick today. Is something in the air? Is it a certain type of moon? Are you two scheming and double-teaming behind my back?”
“We just care about you.”
“And I care about you, which is why we’re going out tonight. I think it’ll do us both some good. Drinks are on me.”
“I see what you just did there.” She laughed. “But drinks will be on me, not you. You just dropped a shit ton on your mom.” She smiled with caution, like she was peeking into a room she shouldn’t be looking in. “Has she found a job yet?”
“No.” I let out more air than I realized I’d been holding.
“She’s applied, so it’s not from lack of trying.
I think her job history is finally catching up to her.
It doesn’t exactly pack a powerful punch when your résumé shows you haven’t been in a position for more than a year, and there’s a pattern of, what, twenty-five-plus years of that?
” I closed my eyes and tilted my head back.
“I hate this for the both of you.”
“Me too.”
She linked her fingers with mine. “Drinks are a must tonight.”
“Yes, they are.”
Jordan: You made Grandma’s whole day by bringing her lunch. Thank you for that.
Me: How could I not when you told me it was her favorite.
Jordan: It was just really sweet of you.
Me: Well, I adore her.
Jordan: If you only knew the way she talks about you . . .
Me: I’m sure she told you that we talked about You.
Jordan: She didn’t.
Me: Really?
Jordan: Did she tell you I talked to her about you?
Me: Nope. And that makes me like her even more.
“It must be time for you to head home soon,” Bettie said as I was checking her vitals, marking them in her chart.
“About ten-ish minutes.” I yawned. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it out tonight, Bettie. Emily wants to grab drinks, and I want to climb into bed. What do I do?”
“Honey, you go grab those drinks.”
I laughed. “How did I know you were going to say that?”
“You’re only young once, darling. Take full advantage of it. Because one day, you’re going to be like me—in your eighties, in a rehab center with an artificial knee, dreaming of the days when everything was much easier.”
“You’re right.”
She wiggled in her bed. “Pour yourself a coffee and go out and boogie.”
I couldn’t stop smiling. “When you’re out of here, and if you’re feeling up to it, Emily and I are going to take you out.”
She fluffed out her flat curls. “You know something? I would love that.”
“What would you love?” Emily asked from the doorway.
“If we took Bettie out,” I replied.
Emily sat in the chair next to Bettie’s bed. “Can we please make that happen? Sooner than later?”
“Once I’m feeling up to it, I’m bringing you gals out. We’ll go to my favorite restaurant and then end the evening by going to a hockey game. How does that sound?”
I exhaled loud enough so Bettie could hear me. “Like the perfect night.”
“I’m ready, Bettie. You just say when,” Emily said.
I marked the last number in her chart and waited for the two of them to quiet as they planned our upcoming evening together, then finally asked, “Is there anything you need before I leave?”
There was suddenly an even bigger smile on her face, but it wasn’t at me.
I followed her line of sight, which took me to the doorway, where Jordan was standing with a little boy, the two of them holding hands.
A little boy I assumed was his nephew, since he had the same large, oval-shaped eyes as Jordan, similar long, messy strands of hair, and lips that were almost identical.
Maybe it was the sight of Jordan with a kid.
Or maybe it was the sight of him in general.
Or maybe it was that the room was now filling with his scent and presence, and I could feel him in every part of me.
Whatever the reason, I found it extremely difficult to breathe.
“I know your ovaries are exploding right now,” Emily whispered beside me. “Because mine are, and I don’t even look at Jordan that way and . . . oh my God.”
Just as I glanced at her to confirm her suspicion, Jordan said, “How are my favorite women doing?” His shoulder leaned in to the frame, that nonchalant posture looking so incredibly sexy on him.
“We’re doing much better now that you’re here,” Bettie said. “How’s my best little boy in the whole wide world?”
“Lovie!” He released Jordan’s hand and rushed inside the room. He climbed on top of Bettie’s bed, knowing exactly where he could touch her, as though he’d visited her before and had already been warned.
“We detest Great-Grandma,” Bettie said to Emily and me as she held her great-grandson. “That’s for an ancient person, and I refuse to accept that I’m that age. So I chose Lovie. I think it fits me perfectly.”
“It does,” I agreed. “And I love it.”
She patted the back of his head and kissed the top of it. “I’ve missed you, my little one.”
“Ben, you need to introduce yourself to the beautiful ladies in the room,” Jordan said.
“Lovie knows I’m Ben.” He giggled, causing his big bright-blue eyes to squint. He then fixed his position and held out his small hand toward Emily. “I’m Benjamin. Sometimes I go by Ben.”
“Aren’t you just the cutest. I’m Emily. Which name do you prefer?”
He shrugged. “I haaate Benny.”
“Well, then, we won’t call you Benny, Ben,” Emily said.
I held my hand out to him. “I’m Maya.”
“I know.” He squeezed my fingers. “Uncle J said you have long, brown hair. He was hoping we’d see you.” He pulled back his hand and placed both around his mouth. “He talked about you the whole way here,” he said in an attempted whisper.
“I heard that, Benjamin,” Jordan stammered.
I could feel my face turn red. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve actually heard a lot about you too.”
“Cool stuff?”
“Only cool stuff,” I assured him.
“Speaking of ‘cool,’ what’s Uncle J doing with you tonight?” Bettie asked Ben. “I hope there’s something fun planned?”
“He’s taking me ice-skating!”
“That sounds like a blast,” I admitted.
“You should come,” Jordan said.
Three words that made me turn toward the doorway, a spot I’d been trying to avoid since Ben had come into the room. “You want me to go skating with you?”
“Please, Maya!” Ben sang. “Please come!”
My gaze moved between Ben and Jordan. “I wish I could, but I have plans with Emily tonight—”
“The invitation was for you and Emily,” Jordan said. “Ben and I would like you both to come. Wouldn’t we, Ben?”
“Yesss!” He pointed at Emily and me. “Wait until you see how I skate backward. Uncle J taught me, and I usually fall a couple times, but I’m not falling tonight.”
The grin on Emily’s face was so big, I already knew her answer, I didn’t even have to ask.
“Plus, Uncle J said we could get burgers and milkshakes and cupcakes,” Ben added. “The kind of cupcakes that have all the frosting on them like the swirl of an ice-cream cone.” He threw his hands up. “They’re so good.”
“Those are my favorite kind of cupcakes too.” I laughed. “Ben, I don’t know if that’s an offer we can turn down.”
“Then don’t,” Bettie said before she winked.