Chapter 31
31
TESSA
It was a new nurse who woke me up to check my vitals and give me medication. Next to the bed, Grant sat in a reclining chair, but he was only partially reclined, and I knew he’d consider leaning all the way back a betrayal of his duties watching over me. Stupid, sweet man.
I’d dreamt about him—him and a thousand other muddled thoughts, but Grant was what I remembered. He was the last thought I remembered having before the accident, and he’d filled my thoughts and dreams in the hours since.
The clock read ten past four—too early for Grant to be up, but I felt surprisingly awake. A television remote sat next to my hip, but I worried it would wake him, and I knew he’d barely slept in two days, so I sat in silence instead.
I wished I could reach him, hold him, be held by him. It was hard to believe our first and only full night together had been two nights prior. Then again, while I hadn’t shared a bed with Grant in all these months, it didn’t mean I didn’t know the feel of his body wrapped around me. We’d had sex a dozen ways in a dozen places, but every time had felt the same.
He shifted in his recliner, his mouth drooping open and his head propped on one shoulder. He was going to feel like shit when he woke up, no doubt about that. He still wore the jeans and sweater combo he’d donned to Christmas, and I smiled at the memory of him, still wet from his shower, holding up two sweaters for me to choose. I’d chosen the blue one, a cornflower color I knew would make his eyes glow.
My eyes traveled the length of the blue sweater, landing on his hands where they rested in his lap. I closed my eyes, envisioning the way those hands had held my face, the way his thumbs had swiped over my cheeks and lips, the feel of his touch as it moved down my body. I could picture him everywhere—touching me, loving me, owning me.
I’d been excited to tell everyone this morning. Was it yesterday morning now? Two days ago? And then I’d walked into the Dupree house and there was Kelly. I swallowed hard, feeling the predictable burn in my throat as the usual questions flooded my brain—they were the questions I asked myself more times than I could count, questions I was too embarrassed to say aloud. Why was I not good enough for Grant? He was amazing, certainly, but I could make him happy—I did make him happy. So, what did my mother and Agatha see that we couldn’t? And did other people see it? Was there something glaring and obvious to everyone else? I swiped a hand over my cheek where a tear burned a trail.
“You’re awake.” My eyes had settled on his hands where they lay in his lap, but at the sound of his gravelly voice they shot back up to his face. He sat forward, stretching his neck and rubbing his eyes. “Are you crying?” he asked, diving forward until he held my hand, his eyes scanning my form worriedly.
“I’m fine, Grant. I’m fine.” I ran my fingers down his face with my free hand, loving the feel of him, but the tears persisted, running freely down my cheeks.
“Does something hurt, Tess?” he asked anxiously.
“No, I’m fine, really,” I repeated, and Grant sighed, leaning forward until his head touched mine.
“It could be the medications, I guess,” he said, and as tempted as I was to accept this easy out, I could already see his eyes darting between mine worriedly, running through possible scenarios.
“No. It’s not the meds, ” I whispered, and Grant sat back on the bed, his mouth set in a grim line.
“It’s about us,” he said—a statement, not a question, and I sniffed, wiping my eyes furtively.
“I want to be with you, Grant…” I began, my sentence dangling between us, unfinished.
He shook his head as I spoke. “Why does there have to be a but , Tess?”
“I want to be with you,” I repeated, “but in the back of my mind I worry I’m overlooking something.”
He sighed, pushing his hand through his hair, which was messy, surely from the countless times he’d jammed his fingers through it today. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked quietly.
“No. I think I almost died today and it reminded me that I’m an idiot and I shouldn’t care what my family thinks.”
“But,” he said slowly, still frowning.
“No but ,” I said, then rethought. “One but , actually. I want to know why our mothers don’t think I’m good enough for you, but I’m—I’m afraid to ask—I’m afraid they’d answer.”
“Oh,” he replied. “Well, shit, I know the answer to that.”
It felt like only a psychotic would say those words and not immediately explain, but Grant did just that.
“You know why they didn’t set us up?” I asked, then hesitated, because maybe Grant wasn’t being forthcoming because the reason was terrible. What if they thought I wasn’t pretty enough, or smart enough? Maybe I wasn’t equipped to hear this particular truth.
His lips tilted into a weak smile, which was unexpected considering he was probably going to say something horrible.
“They think you’re a lesbian.”
“Hi, honey,” Mom said as she walked in, and I could see the anxiety twitching at the corners of her wide smile.
“I’ll go,” Grant said, looking at me as he stood. I nodded. I would’ve rather had him stay with me, but the conversation with Mom and Dad would go better without him here.
“How are you, sweetheart?” Mom asked. “It looks like you’re all the way awake now, and you’re feeling better.”
“I am,” I replied. I didn’t know what medication I was on, but I was very aware of the difference between how I felt in the moments before and after my nurses came in, and whatever the meds were, they were doing their job.
Mom sat in the chair Grant had vacated, close to my right arm. Dad hovered above on the opposite side of the bed. “I’m glad you’re both here,” I began. “I want to talk to you about something.”
Mom glanced at Dad, and it was one of those looks that meant they’d already been having a conversation. If Grant was right, they expected me to come out to them, but surely Grant couldn’t be right about this.
“I’m seeing someone,” I began, and Mom inhaled deeply, sitting up straighter. “Someone I care about a lot. Someone…I love.”
“We know,” she said, excitement shining in her eyes.
“Do you?” I asked skeptically.
“And we couldn’t be happier for you. We love Val. Always have.”
Both parents were looking down at me with big, goofy smiles, and all I could do was blink. Part of me hadn’t wanted to believe Grant, but here it was in black and white.
“We know?—”
“Jules,” Dad said, cutting Mom off. It was his warning voice, as if maybe she was saying too much, but saying too much was not the problem here.
“Oh, Richard, she’s opening up,” Mom replied, swatting away Dad’s concerns as she continued talking. “Anthony Ross’s mother gave me a book. It explained everything, and it said we shouldn’t push you. We knew you’d come out when you were ready.”
“I’m not coming out, Mom. You seriously think I’m dating Val?”
“Well, yes,” she answered hesitantly. “And I understand you didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell us yet. That’s why Grant is here, so he can send her updates…”
“No,” I replied, widening my eyes in disbelief. “It’s them , and no. I’m not a lesbian. I’m not bi. I am a heterosexual cisgender woman.”
Mom’s brow tightened, and I wasn’t sure if it was because I was raising my voice or because I was using too many vocabulary terms at once. God only knew what she’d learned from the book she’d borrowed, but I could safely say there were some gaps in her knowledge. “We just wanted you to be happy, honey, and if Val makes you happy…”
“Oh my god,” I said, exasperated. “Val’s great—they’re awesome, they’re my best friend in the whole world. That doesn’t mean I want to fuck them.” Dad flinched—either at my language or the visual—but I barreled ahead. “They don’t want to fuck me either. That’s what I’m telling you. They’re non-binary and pansexual.”
“But pansexual does include women, right?” Mom asked, her tone suggesting she’d caught me in some sort of lie.
“Not every woman, mother,” I said wryly. “People who are pansexual are capable of making friends, it doesn’t mean they walk around all day feeling attracted to every single adult they encounter, for chrissake.”
She shot me a look, probably a recrimination for my tone, but persisted, “But you’re such a beautiful young woman—inside and out—why wouldn’t she?—”
“They.”
She inhaled slowly. “Why wouldn’t they want to date you?”
A strangled laugh escaped my throat. For years I’d assumed my mother thought I wasn’t good enough for her constant meddling and set-ups when, in reality, she’d been waiting for me to come out so she could badger unsuspecting women into dating me? I didn’t even know how to wrap my head around the idea.
“She said she’s dating.”
Mom and I both swung our gazes back to Dad, who’d gone mostly forgotten hovering opposite her. “What?” my mother asked.
“I told you I didn’t think she was gay,” he grumbled, which did little to clear up his previous statement for either of us.
“Well it’s easy to be sure now, Charles, but you weren’t that adamant about her being straight, I remember,” Mom protested. My cheeks heated as I realized just how long they must’ve talked and guessed.
“This conversation began with Tessa telling us she was in love,” Dad said, and Mom’s eyes went wide, her gaze swinging back to me. I, too, had forgotten exactly how we’d entered into this topic. I’d intended to defend my dating Grant, to insist I could make him happy as well as Claire or Kelly ever could—better—but now I wasn’t sure the argument was necessary.
“You never date,” Mom said. “I’ve never heard about you going on dates, and you’ve never brought anyone to the house.”
My head tipped in a conciliatory little shrug. “Well, actually…” Actually, he’s been to your house more times than I could count… “I’ve been dating Grant.”
“You’re dating Grant? But isn’t he dating Kelly?”
“He’s not with Kelly. That’s just something Agatha tried to set up. You know that.”
“Does Kelly know? How long have you been together without us knowing?”
I rubbed my face tiredly. “We’ve been together a while—on and off—since summer, but more so since Thanksgiving. And Kelly doesn’t know we’re…together, but, again, she and Grant are not dating.”
Mom laughed, and the noise was sudden and jarring. I was growing tired and was due for my painkillers. “What?” I asked, grimacing at visions of Mom laughing at the very idea of me and Grant together.
“I was thinking Agatha would be disappointed her setup with Kelly didn’t work, but then I remembered she asked about setting you up with Grant long before she considered Kelly. I told her you wouldn’t be interested because…you know.” She shrugged guiltily.
“I know you wanted him to end up with Claire,” I said, chewing my lip.
She shook her head. “He’s a nice man, and I thought he’d make a good husband, but I always worried Claire couldn’t be happy with someone so blunt.”
“He is blunt,” I said, my lips tipping into a sleepy smile.
“You look beat, honey. We can let you rest. You want us to send Grant back in?”
“I do,” I replied.
“I gotcha,” Grant said, grabbing my elbow as I stood.
“She’s got herself, Dr. Dupree,” Janelle grumbled, shooting him a look. In the days we’d been at the hospital, Grant had been scolded more than once for jumping in to help me when the doctors and nurses didn’t feel I needed the help. He tended to be blushing and apologetic after each scold, but I never minded. There was something endearing about the way he wanted to help me, even if I knew I could do it myself.
He hadn’t been home in almost a week, but I’d convinced him to begin sleeping at Greyson’s condo. The bed—and the shower—had done him a world of good, and he stood next to me looking like only a slightly weary version of his devastatingly handsome self. I took a few steps and sat down in the wheelchair Janelle had set up near the bathroom door.
“Are you excited to be going home?” Janelle asked. It was the kind of polite not-quite-rhetorical question I found was common at the hospital.
“Sure,” I replied, trying to drum up enthusiasm, but secretly I was a little worried about getting around the house myself. There was no way Grant could keep missing work forever.
“Hang on, Janelle, if you don’t mind,” Grant said, squatting down to even out our heights.
“I’m going to check with my patient next door and be right back,” she said with a gentle smile, then turned and left.
“Hey,” Grant said softly, drawing my gaze back toward him. “What’s wrong? Does something hurt?”
It did. The pain in my stomach was frequent and sometimes terrifying, but right now I only felt the usual, dull pain. “No.”
He frowned, his blue eyes scanning my face for the information I wasn’t offering with words. “Tess.”
“I’m just a little nervous about going home,” I admitted. That worry was just the tip of my worry iceberg, but I knew that if I unloaded all my concerns on Grant he’d stay by my side and never go back to work. I couldn’t be responsible for any more upheaval in his life.
“Oh,” he said, smiling as he stood to his full height. It was his real smile, not the big one he flashed around, the one I knew was bullshit. “Don’t worry. I’ve got everything set up.”
“Set up?”
Janelle peeked back in, catching Grant’s eye to make sure she could come in. I didn’t see his response, but she entered with a smile. “All ready?”
“Yeah,” I answered quickly, then turned to look at Grant as we began moving. “Set up?” I repeated. “What does that mean?”
Grant was looking at me as we walked, making turns with the ease of someone who knew the place well. I wondered if he’d said goodbye to Greyson. Or to Dr. Burns. I’d seen them talking on more than one occasion this week. Would Grant miss the hospital when we were gone?
They were all questions I wanted to know, but none nearly so much as the one I’d asked, so I waited in silence.
“I talked to your parents and Ethan and Nora and they’ve set up everything at the house so it’ll be easier for you to get around,” Grant said.
We made a turn then stopped in front of a bank of elevators. “Whose house?”
Grant’s eyes widened, then narrowed as if he were considering something. “Yours, but I could have it changed before we even got home if you’d rather stay…somewhere else.” The elevator dinged and Grant put up a finger. “Hold that thought. I have to pull the car around, and then we’ll continue this conversation.” The doors slid open and he hurried ahead of us. Janelle continued at a leisurely pace.
“That was nice of him,” I said, wondering if Janelle thought I was ungrateful for not showing more enthusiasm.
“Mmm hmm,” she replied as the car pulled up. I stood from the wheelchair, wincing at the shot of pain that tore through my belly. I’d been reassured twenty times that there wasn’t anything to worry about, so I focused on Grant. “You keep him in line, Tessa,” Janelle added as I made my way to the car.
“You know she will,” Grant said, flashing her the Big Smile.
“Thank you for everything,” I said as I stood at the passenger door. Janelle gave a quick wave and headed on her way.
“She likes you,” Grant said as I got settled.
“She likes you ,” I corrected.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Both can be true. All I know is I’ve never seen her take the time to wheel someone across the whole hospital. The volunteers usually do that.”
“Do you miss working there?”
He sighed, settling one hand on the steering wheel as we pulled out of the parking garage and headed home. “Colin offered me a job.”
My pulse skyrocketed, and I licked my lips, buying myself time before I had to speak. “That’s great.”
Grant glanced at me, cocking an eyebrow. “Sick of me after this week?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Of course not,” I replied, “but I know this job meant a lot to you and you missed being at the hospital, and it’s great you have the opportunity to go back if you wanted.”
His expression fell. “And move back to the city?”
I swallowed hard. “I mean, if it’s important to you, you should, right?”