Chapter 39
Now
Sitting outside, having coffee in the hospital courtyard, I breathe in and acknowledge all the beautiful blessings.
The trees are a portrait of red, yellow, and gold.
I could look at them all day.
Fall is my favorite time of year.
Not only with its golden beauty, but it takes me back to when I first fell in love with Michael. School had just started, and summer was still hanging on. Allowing me to wash my car on warm days in the drive—the day Michael took me for a motorcycle ride. For the homecoming dance and the night, I made chicken cacciatore for Michael. The first kiss we shared on his couch. The exact time of year I lost my virginity and made love for the first time—with Michael. I know a lot of bad things happened between that time and now. But I can’t imagine life without him.
“There she is.
There’s Grandma.”
Twisting around, I find Michael coming into the courtyard, pushing a stroller.
He kept his word, and Michael has been our granddaughter’s caretaker since the age of twelve weeks.
Bindi Michelle was born one year ago in this hospital with her entire family gathered around—a beautiful seven-pound, six-ounce screaming bundle of joy.
I never saw Michael so happy.
And there was some guilt there, too, on how he missed Monica’s birth.
Men may struggle with age and becoming fathers and grandfathers, but if they only knew how this makes them even more attractive to us.
I was never more attracted to Michael than when he was playing with his daughter, carrying her on his shoulders, or talking baby talk with her.
The day at the beach in Florida, when she rode his shoulders and pretended to be flying.
Never was Michael more gorgeous to me than that day.
And just now, watching him push that stroller, is more captivating to my heart, than when he was on a motorcycle or his Corvette. Because this shows all the man can be. And it takes a tough man to raise and care for his family.
“Hey, Sweetheart.
What are you and Grandpa doing today?”
She reaches out her little arms, and I grab her up.
“Hi, Michael,”
I say when he kisses me.
“Man, what a gorgeous day.
You don’t think it’s too cold to have her out in the stroller, do you?”
Michael—the over-protective grandfather.
“No.
It’s perfect.
The sunshine is good for this little girl.
I don’t think she needs a heavy coat on, though.
You have a lighter jacket in her bag?”
Michael ruffles through the bag and pulls out a small, lined windbreaker.
“How about this?”
“That’s better.
It may be fall, but it’s still seventy degrees today.”
He changes Bindi into the light jacket and then hands her back.
I lift her up and down and listen to her sweet baby giggles. “Mmm,”
I say, kissing her rosy cheeks.
“Grandma could just eat you up.”
“Here, I brought you something.
Bindi and I made you some potato soup.”
“You did?”
I coo to the smiling baby.
“Bindi likes it too,”
Michael says, pulling a container from the back of the stroller.
“Well, thank you.
You too, Grandpa.”
I hand Bindi back to Michael and open the container.
It’s still warm, and the smell reminds me of cool fall evenings.
“Oh, this is delicious.”
“Hey, sorry to bring this up at the last moment.
But I need to fly back to Seattle for a board meeting at the jet center.
We are electing new members.
I saw on your calendar that you don’t work this Friday.”
“No, I don’t.”
Does he want me to go?
“I’ve booked my flight for Thursday night and scheduled the meeting for Friday.
You’ll be available to watch this little princess,”
he says, lifting Bindi to kiss her forehead.
I guess I was wrong.
“Ah, of course.
I’m not too out of practice.”
“Great.
That way Monica doesn’t have to waste a vacation day.”
It’s just business, Jill.
Don’t start getting those feelings back.
Michael has shown and proved he has turned a one-eighty.
He loves me and our family.
Though this is swarming in my head, I smile and tell him it’s no problem.
“How long will you be gone?”
“Not sure yet.
That’s why I booked a one-way ticket.
Might come back on a run with one of our pilots if it’s more convenient.
We used to travel like this all the time.
Flights were always going somewhere you needed to go.”
We? He and Cami? I dare not ask.
I must remind myself; the past is in the past. Seattle.
“Okay.
Keep me posted if I need to change my schedule here at the hospital.”
“I will.
Thanks for understanding.”
I sip my coffee.
“No problem.”
It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Or is it Seattle?
I finish my soup, and Michael packs up Bindi and tells her to wave bye-bye.
“We’ll see grandma later.”
“Bye-bye, Munchkin.
Grandma loves you.”
I kiss her little hands and cheeks and then kiss Michael.
“Tell Monica hello for me.”
“I will, Baby,”
he says, and I watch him push the stroller down the sidewalk and out of the courtyard.
Taking a deep breath, I tell myself not to worry.
But yet, why do I?
“I’m just paranoid,”
I tell myself and head back to work.
. . . . .
Michael is packing when I get home, and I see a suit laid out on the bed.
“So, this is not a casual meeting, I take it?”
He steps out of the closet, holding two ties.
“Red or blue,”
he says, holding both.
“Tell me what’s all involved, and then I’ll tell you the best choice.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? It’s just a meeting,”
he says, but his tone is a bit…defensive.
Or is it just me?
“Is it an official board meeting or cocktail negotiations?”
“Both.”
He eyes me surreptitiously and drops both ties on the bed.
I guess both will be needed.
I watch him walk back into the closet.
“Michael?”
I wait for him to answer before continuing to assess his mood.
“Yes?”
I’m still not entirely sure and ask.
“Was there any way you could have scheduled it on a Saturday…so that we could have gone together? I mean…I’ve never seen your jet center.”
Walking out of the closet, he holds two pairs of shoes and drops them into the suitcase set next to the bed.
“No, Jill.
Meetings aren’t held on Saturdays.”
“Yet, you have meetings after hours…in bars…with drinks.”
“What are you getting at?”
This is not going well.
He’s upset, I can tell.
“I just find it odd that, after all this time, you’ve never mentioned Seattle and…this jet center.
And now it’s a big deal.”
“Jill, I have been off location and quite inactive with the business.
Yes, I communicate through e-mails and web meetings.
But my presence is needed for this.”
Now, his hands are on his hips and glaring down at me.
I know I’ve hit a nerve.”
We stare at each other, waiting for the other to speak.
“Okay, I’m sorry.
I know you’ve put us as priority…and babysitting Bindi.
I guess I haven’t given your company much thought.
I’m sorry.”
I stand from the bed and wrap my arms around his waist, looping through his bent elbows.
I’m a bit relieved when he pulls me in.
“You are my priority—always—another reason why I must go.
I need to add you as the beneficiary to the company.
I’ll have my attorney draw up the request.”
Breathing in, I smile and beg forgiveness, batting my eyes, waiting for a kiss.
Kissing my lips, Michael holds me close and whispers in my ear.
“You will always be the most important thing in my life.
Please, don’t worry.”
I pull away and look into his eyes.
“I’ll make sure to take you next time.
I promise.
I didn’t want Bindi to be left with another sitter.”
“You are a wonderful grandfather, husband, and father,”
I compliment him, but it’s more of a reminder.
For the rest of the evening, we have our dinner, watch our favorite shows, and lay in each other’s arms without another word about it.
But something still stabs at me.
It’s nothing, Jill.
Michael is a wonderful, loving man. You have nothing to worry about.
With me lying in his arms, he falls asleep, and I watch him for a while before waking him and going to bed together.
I study his perfect-to-me features.
How different he looks from when I first met him all those years ago as a young twenty-something man.
The minute I saw him for the first time in years, I knew the contour of his brow, the ridge of his nose, and the small cleft beneath his lips.
I now see the lines around his eyes, his five o’clock shadow on his jaw, and his face has become leaner and more defined. But he’s still Michael. Young or old, he is forever woven into my heart.
As much as I hate to wake him, I do.
“Hey, sleepyhead.
Let’s get you to bed.
You have a plane to catch in the morning.”
He cracks open one eye, and I help him up and to bed.
When I return from the bathroom, I’m expecting him to pull me down and make love.
However, walking in, I see he’s fast asleep.
Though I’m slightly disappointed, I kiss his forehead, turn off the light and climb into bed next to him.
We wake early, and I rush around, busying myself with positive actions while showing Michael my full support.
“I have your breakfast ready,”
I say when he walks into the kitchen.
Pouring his coffee, I notice how handsome he looks this morning.
He looks handsome every morning.
Why does he look so astronomical today? It’s because he’s leaving.
“Shut up,”
I tell that devil in my mind.
“You smell good,”
I say, bending down and kissing his smooth, shaven cheeks.
“Thank you.”
“Are you sure you have everything you need? What about your wash bag?”
I cringe and remember the condoms I once found.
He looks up and cocks a brow.
He remembers.
“I mean, did you pack your pravastatin and vitamins?”
He reaches over and pulls me into his arms.
Looking up at me, he smiles.
“Jill, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.
I understand not having your trust…”
“No, Michael.
It’s not that.
I’m a nurse, and you know how we are about taking our meds at specific times.
I just didn’t see you pack them.”
“Touché.
Would you please pack them for me?”
He grins, and I bend down to kiss the tip of his nose.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
We leave for the airport, and there’s one more thing I want to ask.
But I know what the answer will be—and it will only deepen my suspicions.
“Is there a number at the jet center where I can reach you…if there’s an emergency?”
“Just call my cell.
It will be on me at all times.”
And there it is.
“Oh, I know.
I didn’t want to call and have your phone go off and interrupt your meeting.”
“My phone is always on vibrate.
If I don’t pick up, leave a message.”
Always on vibrate.
Good to know. Stop it!
He pulls up to the terminal drop off and parks.
“Don’t you want to park in the garage?”
“No, I’m going to get through security and start with all the emails and phone calls while I wait to board.”
“But, Michael.
Your plane doesn’t leave for another hour.”
“Exactly.
It will take an hour to get caught up.”
I can see there is no winning this one.
“Okay.
Well, please call me when you get in.”
“I will.
Thanks for watching Bindi.”
“Of course.
Bindi is my granddaughter, too.”
We kiss before getting out of the car and then again before I return to the driver’s seat.
He waves before walking through the doors.
He’s telling the truth.
It’s business.
It’s...Seattle.
. . . . .
Five hours and still no word from Michael.
I know, because I have watched the clock non-stop since returning home.
I want to enjoy this day with Bindi and do all the grandma stuff.
Bake cookies, go for a walk, go shopping and buy little, frilly dresses.
But instead, I’m consuming once again over what I don’t know is going on. Monica read right into my edginess when dropping Bindi off. I tried to convince her it was just the excitement of being with my granddaughter today. Damn it. I don’t want it to be like this.
Looking outside, I feel guilty not taking her out on this gorgeous afternoon.
Why not? I have my cell.
Michael will call.
He will.
“Bindi-Roo, want to play outside?”
She smiles and gives a big noddy-nod, her blonde curls bouncing around her head.
“Okay, let’s get your jacket and Grammy will take you.”
She toddles out of the room, knowing exactly where her bag is and comes running in just as fast as her little legs will take her.
Now bundled up, she runs to the patio door and points outside.
“Swing,” she says.
“Yes, Grammy will push you on your swing.”
I open the door, and she beelines to the Little Tykes swing Michael hung from the tree.
Just looking at the thing makes me feel guilty—all the things he does for his granddaughter and me.
And I’m still not trusting him? Do I only trust him on a leash? Ah, I must stop this.
Bindi does her best to climb into the swing, but it takes one final push from Grammy to help her.
“You ready?”
Another big noddy-nod with a happy smile.
“Is this what Grandpa does? Pushes you on the swing?”
I give a slight push, and she giggles as the swing moves back and forth.
“Weeee.
Is that fun?”
“Yes,”
she says, followed by more giggles.
I look across the yard at the treehouse Michael built for Monica, now with a fresh coat of paint intended for the next generation.
Michael said Bindid had already climbed to the top step and to watch her when out back.
He’s entirely engaged this time, and I should stop worrying.
I shake it off, breathe, and say, “He would never hurt me again. He loves us, and especially this little girl.”
Then, he commented about Cami and how they are still friends and business partners.
And this is a business trip.
Damn it!
My phone rings and I am all thumbs retrieving it from my back pocket.
Ah, yes! Michael’s name lights up the screen.
“Hey, Sweetie, Grandpa’s calling.
Let Grammy answer, okay?”
She nods.
“Michael?”
There’s a pause, and then I hear a muffled sound, followed by breathing.
Oh, God.
Don’t let this be a butt dial while he’s having sex with someone else.
Should I yell his name…or just listen?
“Hi…Jill.”
“Michael…you there?”
“Yes, sorry.
Just catching my breath.” Why?
“So, you just arrived…or…”
“I got in about an hour ago.”
And you’re just now calling?
“Ah…yes.
Sorry.
Just got tied up with things and…all.”
He doesn’t sound right.
He seems…preoccupied.
“Well…how was your flight?”
“Good. Good.”
More silence on his end.
“I ah…I need to get checked in.”
Checked in? He’s just said he got in an hour ago.
What’s he been doing?
“Are…are you at the hotel or…jet center?”
With Cami?
“No, I’m…I went to my meeting first.”
Why does he sound so…distant…guilty?
“Did it go… good? The meeting?”
The sound of a deep breath, followed by, “No.
Not really.”
Is this an excuse to have to stay longer?
“So…what now?”
“Hey, Jill…I have to make some calls.
I’ll call you later.
I love you.
Kiss Bindi for me.”
“Oh, okay.
I will.
Bindi’s on the swing you made.
She misses you.
I miss you.”
“I miss you all too.
Make sure my little granddaughter doesn’t climb that ladder.”
“I will watch her…”
“Bye.”
“Michael?”
He’s already ended the call.
That was quick.
He seemed bothered by something.
His conscience? Rolling the phone in my hand, I consider calling him back, saying I was concerned.
He was too quick to get off the phone. Yet, he did say he loved me and went on to express his concern for Bindi. Maybe it’s nothing. He did say the meeting went terribly. I’ll send a text just to be sure.
Me: Sorry about your meeting.
You sounded stressed.
Is everything ok?
Michael: Thanks.
Yeah, a bit stressed.
Talk when I get home.
Kiss the girls for me.
I love you.
Me: I love you, too.
Talk? About what? Everything’s fine, Jill.
It’s just a lousy meeting.
He asked about his granddaughter.
He said he loved you.
Stop worrying.
“Swing! Swing,”
Bindi hollers, kicking her little feet back and forth.
“Yes, Baby.
Grammy’s sorry.”
Grabbing onto the rope, I kiss her cheek.
“That’s from Grandpa.
He misses you.”
And I miss him. So. Much.