Chapter 29 Grace
GRACE
Strawberry Springs Neighborhood Watch
Mollie Wilson: Have you guys SEEN the drama about the diner about an hour away? They’ve always been shady, but apparently they made a lot of people sick recently. I almost stopped there while visiting my mom!
Comments:
Tammy Jane: Anyone with sense knows my place is the only place to go! Never gotten under a 100 on my health score, thank you very much.
Marjorie Brown: What about the time I found a press-on fingernail in my soup?
Tammy Jane: HEY! That’s supposed to be on the lowdown!!!
Mollie Wilson: Lowdown??? What???
Wren Hackett: I think she means the down-low. Don’t worry, no more nails can be found in soup.
Kelsey Marie: My bad, y’all!
Mollie Wilson: Should we be worried about them being in coffee then?
Kelsey Marie: I’ve gotten my shit together!!! Just ask Theo. I cause WAY less problems now.
I drifted in and out of sleep in the clinic chair, but one thing stayed with me through it all.
Mortification.
To some, accepting help was easy. To me, it felt like I’d failed.
I wore my independence like a badge of honor. I didn’t need anyone. Even if I suffered, I’d be okay alone.
And after how today went, I wasn’t so sure I would have been.
I heard the door open and Dean shuffled into the room. I peeked through one eye at him.
“You’re awake?” he asked as he got close.
“That might be a strong term.”
“All that matters is that you feel better.” Instead of keeping the usual distance between the two of us, his hand held mine. In my sleep-heavy mind, the physical touch was just what I needed.
I nodded. “IVs do the trick. Thanks for bringing me in. It was the right call.”
“Anytime,” he said.
The door opened again and Henry walked in. Dean’s hand loosened, but I gripped harder. If I were in my right mind, I’d know that Dean wouldn’t want Henry to see anything. I’d let him pull away. But Dean’s hand was warm and I wanted it there.
And when he didn’t fight me, I felt like I’d won the lottery.
“Dean has notes just in case anything else happens, but I will say to both of you that if this happens again, I recommend you go to a hospital.”
Dean’s eyes met mine. I had no doubts that if it did start again, he would be on top of getting me where I needed to go.
I nodded. “Will do, thank you, Henry.”
“Feel better,” he said. “And good luck with everything.”
When Henry had moved into town, some people were put off by his professionalism. But in this moment, it was one of the greatest things I’d ever seen. He could have grilled me or Dean for a ton of information, but it seemed like he was most focused on making sure I was okay.
Wren had gotten so lucky. Mollie too. They’d paired off with perfect men. I didn’t think it was possible for guys to have so many green flags. Dean had a lot too.
If only he were emotionally available.
Despite my mortification and despite me trying to fight him on all of his help, I enjoyed every second of having him around. I hadn’t realized how much loneliness had crept up on me over the years.
I supposed I should have been happy that I had a friendship with Dean. That might be all it stayed, but it was nice.
But I was at that part of being sick where I only felt sad for myself.
The exhaustion was hitting me full force, and even though I wasn’t throwing up anymore, I didn’t feel like myself.
I felt like a little kid again, back before I realized I needed to handle things on my own.
I used to crawl into bed with Mom every single time I got sick.
I’d want someone to hold me and tell me that it would be okay.
Eventually, I got over that need. Except in moments like these.
Dean helped me to the truck, and I let him carry some of my weight. Now that it was over, I realized just how bad that could have been. I’d been so worried about trying to appear like I was fine that I let something go that could have been very dangerous.
This independence mixed with people-pleasing was only hurting me.
“I’m sorry that I fought you on bringing me here.” I said it when he’d gotten into the truck.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I should have listened. You have every right to be pissed at me, for that, and for making you hold my hand in front of Henry. I’m sure you didn’t want him to see that.”
Dean was quiet for a second and then I heard him huff out a breath of air.
“Grace, you need to know that I’m never gonna stay mad at you for long.
You’re okay and the baby’s okay. That’s all I care about.
And whatever Henry saw, Henry saw. You were sick.
It’s okay to want to hold someone’s hand when you’re sick.
” He reached over to brush a curl off of my cheek, and just that little touch almost sent me clinging to him.
“Rest on the way home. I’ve got it from here. ”
All I could do was nod and lean against the window. What had I done to deserve a man like this?
As my eyes closed, I listened to the sound of his breathing. Just that was more comforting than being alone.
Was that what things around Dean had started to feel like? Comforting?
We would always be tied together in some way, and I could try to explain all of this as me feeling friendly toward him. But with the way that I hung on to every one of his breaths, I knew the truth. I knew it even while sick and exhausted.
I had feelings for Dean. They were terrible, useless, annoying feelings, and yet they were here. I was going to get my heart broken. I knew it, but in the moment when we drove back to my house, I could pretend that he would someday feel the same way.
When we got home, my plan was to rouse myself enough just to get up the stairs and get to my room. Dean had different plans because he opened the truck door for me and carried me all the way inside.
It once again would have been romantic if it hadn’t been for the fact that he didn’t believe in romance.
“Wait,” I said as we walked to the hallway. “I want a shower.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“I’m exhausted and stinky. I would like to only be exhausted.”
Dean pressed his lips together and I could tell he didn’t like the idea of me showering alone. If we were in a different scenario, I’d suggest for him to shower with me. Not for anything untoward, but just to have him around.
“Fine, but I’ll stay next to the door just in case something goes wrong.”
“I can live with that.”
He slowly set me down and I shut myself in the bathroom. One look at myself told me that showering was definitely the right thing to do. My hair was a mess. I was pale. And the smell of myself almost made me throw up again.
I made it quick, knowing I was working with borrowed energy. When I was done, Dean was waiting with clothes.
“So you did leave me.”
“Only for a second. I figured you’d want something clean to wear.”
He was very right about that. I took them and slowly changed into them, and I was officially done with my shower.
The second my head hit the pillow, sleep tried to claim me. Dean was still in the doorway, looking at me as if I could fall apart at any second. Today was the reminder that I could.
But his lingering reminded me of something else that I wanted. I assumed nothing but time would fix how I felt. Having him walk into my room and lay on my bed next to me sure would too.
Sleep made everything fuzzy. It seemed easier and easier to ask him.
“Stay,” I muttered.
“What?”
There was a part of me that was still lucid enough to know that I was making a mistake by asking him this. This could ruin everything. But as much as that part of me tried to get my attention, the need to not be alone was so much louder.
“I don’t wanna be by myself. I’m sad and sick, and I’m always alone.”
He was silent for so long, I almost drifted entirely to sleep. “I don’t do things like that, Grace.”
And yet I was still awake enough for that to hurt. My eyes grew wet.
“Okay.” I wouldn’t push him, but I couldn’t hide the crack in my voice.
I expected him to make his escape, and then tomorrow, we would pretend that this never happened.
“Dammit,” he muttered. I had no idea what he was so frustrated with, but then the bed dipped with his weight. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
The heat from his body was intoxicating.
I could only blame my tiredness and sickness for what I did next.
Instead of giving him space, like I always did when he was awake, I shuffled closer.
He must have laid down because my cheek was pressing against his arm tightly.
I wanted to touch more of him, so I wound my arms around him.
His breath stuttered, but he didn’t push me away. I’d be mortified about this tomorrow, but for tonight, I drifted off, staying as close to him as I possibly could.