Lukas
MAY
“Anyone home?” I call out as I open the creaky side door. I expect to hear Nana's sassy voice call out to me, reminding me that she has nowhere to go or hush me so she can hear the contestants on her game show.
But I take pause, noticing the house is eerily quiet.
“Nana?” I say louder this time, my stomach twisting the longer it takes for her to respond.
I quietly close the door, ears perked to the side, hoping that maybe I just missed her voice.
My eyes dart around the kitchen, and I notice the coffee pot sitting empty.
The filter is in with the bag of grounds propped next to it as if she was about to make her morning coffee.
“Nana,” I call out again, not bothering to kick my boots off as I make my way through the kitchen and down the main hall. Reaching the living room, my hand grips the doorway as I lean in, scanning around only to find it empty. The TV is off, and my skin prickles.
Nana never wavers from her mourning routine. She gets up, shuffles to the kitchen to make her coffee, and while it’s brewing, she flips on the television. She does half an hour of the morning news, followed by the weather, before her game shows start.
The sting starts in my throat. Nose burning.
Fingertips falling numb. “Nana!” I bellow, nearly at the top of my lungs.
It’s then that I hear a groan from her bedroom behind me.
Spinning around, I jog down the hall in that direction and turn the corner into her bedroom.
My gaze immediately falls to the floor where I see a head of white hair peeking out from the bathroom threshold.
She’s lying on her side, her back facing me, and it doesn’t look like she’s breathing.
“Nana! Oh my God.” Images flash through my mind. First of Collins. Then Davis. The view I had of the wreckage and fire when I was stuck behind that rock. The image of what was left of them once we saw them. All the men I had to say goodbye to that day.
No. No, no, no. Please, God, no.
“Nana?” I take two tentative steps toward her, kneeling at her head as I reach a shaking hand out to rest on her shoulder.
She groans, and I purse my lips together, coaxing her to roll on her back to face me.
“Lukas,” she mumbles, and I exhale a ragged breath. My entire body shudders, shoulders shaking. “Lukas,” she says again. “What are you staring at? Acting like you’ve never seen an old lady fall before.”
I force out the best laugh I can, swiping the moisture from underneath my eye with the palm of my hand. “You scared me half to death, Nana.”
She has the audacity to tsk at that. “I scared you? I was half-asleep and woke up to you running down the hall screaming like a madman.” She winks at me, and I know she can read me like an open book, seeing the fear hiding underneath my skin.
She groans, moving her left leg up so her knee is bent. The bottom panels of her robe open, and it’s then that I see the way her right leg is twisted.
Shit.
“Try not to move much, Nana,” I tell her. My old first aid instincts kick in, and I take my first good look at her, noticing a bruise on the side of her head.
“Lie still if you can, but can you tell me where it hurts?”
“I’m not sure.”
I take her cold, clammy hands in mine, warming them between my palms for a second before asking her to squeeze.
She furrows her brow at me but does as I ask.
“Good. Can you give me your biggest smile?” My first instinct besides a fall is that she might have had a stroke, but when she rolls her eyes and tells me that now isn’t the time to flirt, I push out an annoyed breath, nostrils flaring.
She gives her best forced smile, and once I’m confident she didn’t have a stroke, not a massive one, anyway, I move on to assess the rest of her body. “What happened?”
“Well, I had slept in a bit today, probably was rushing myself too much. I was going to make my coffee but realized I forgot to take my curlers out. I came in here, just finished freshening up, and would you believe I tripped over that stupid rug that Ron is always telling me to get rid of?”
“Wouldn’t you know it?” I answer softly. Magnolia’s dad has been trying to safety proof Nana’s house since we were kids. Digging my phone out of my jacket pocket, I swipe the screen open and dial 911. The dispatcher answers as soon as I press the phone to my ear, and I rattle off Nana’s address.
“You don’t need to call an ambulance for me, Lukas.
Just help me up and into my chair. If I'm feeling icky, then you can bring me to the doctors yourself.
Wouldn't hurt to put you to work.” She groans under her breath as she tries to sit up, and I hang up the phone, pocketing it in the side of my jacket.
“Nana, I’d love to give you a ride, sweetheart.” She turns to face me as I adjust my position to sit next to her on the cool tile floor. “But I’m pretty sure you fractured your hip, and that's something you and I can't muscle together.”
She purses her lips, moving them side to side before mumbling, “Figures.”
I move to stand, probably a little too abruptly, and she sucks in a breath, her hand reaching out to grip my calf.
“Where are you going?” Her voice is frantic, eyes wide, and looking down at her, I can see for the first time that the woman who always shows her strength, who can carry her own and go head for head with the best of us, is terrified right now.
I squat low, resting on my haunches. Reaching for her hand, I grip it in both of mine and bring it to my chest. “I’m going to go unlock the main door for the paramedics.
” I pause, letting her agree with a brief nod before I continue, “Then I’m going to grab your purse, your reading glasses, probably your meds, and I'm gonna come sit right by you until they get here, all right?” She nods at that and a little bit of the worry leaves her face.
“And then I'm gonna follow the ambulance all the way to the hospital. And after that, I’m gonna sit my ass in a chair next to your hospital bed while we figure out what the plan is. I won’t leave your side until you’re sick of me and make me go home, all right? ”
She nods again. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I ask, squeezing her hand.
“Okay,” she whispers, and when I go to stand, I take a pause, making sure she’s okay before I turn to leave the bathroom.
I haven’t even made it out of the bedroom before she calls out to me, “Make sure you grab my new glasses, I don't want to be stuck in the hospital without any readers.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Oh, and grab one of my crossword puzzle books, will you, Lukas? Lord knows I'll be bored to tears for the next few days.”
I laugh a little at that, thankful that her snarkiness is already peeking through. “Anything else?”
She pauses for a minute before a stern, “That will be all,” leaves her lips.
I move through the house quickly, unlocking the front door and propping open the screen by dragging one of her heavy potted plants in front of it.
Heading back inside, I find her purse sitting on the two-seater kitchen table where she always leaves it.
Her reading glasses are next to her recliner in the living room, and I grab a few of the puzzle books from her stack on the floor.
I toss everything into a grocery bag I pulled from under the sink, knowing she’ll scold me for not getting out one of her nicer sacks.
The echo of sirens sounds from down the street, and I go back to the bathroom one more time to check on Nana. “Looks like today’s your lucky day,” I tell her. “I don’t know if you’ve ever met my brother Theo. He’ll be delighted to meet you.”
“Is he as bossy as you?” she teases, and I chuckle at that.
“Yup,” I say, popping the p at the end. “You all right here? I’m going to stand in the driveway and wave them in.”
She licks her lips, trying to adjust her shoulders on the stiff tile floor. “Not like I have anywhere else to go right now,” she murmurs.
“All right, be right back.” I turn to leave, and her hand darts out to grab me by the leg. I halt my steps, dropping to a knee.
“What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” I scan her body for something I might have missed, looking around her for blood, something, anything.
“Thank you, Lukas,” she says. “Sure glad you came to check on me today.”
I squeeze her hand, and with the sirens getting louder, I rest her hand atop her chest. “Hang tight, Nana, we’ll get you out of here.”
I jog down the hall, cutting through the living room and out the front door.
I hadn't planned on seeing Nana today, which is the weird thing. We've stuck to our Wednesday night dinners and the occasional weekend afternoon hang-out. She keeps me busy with chores even though Linda and Ron live just down the street and check on her almost daily. If they don’t stop in, they make sure to call her. It’s an annoyance she’s griped about a time or two when we are together.
She mentioned last week that they were going on a dream European vacation and were set to fly out to California for a few days before they cross the ocean.
I'm guessing they plan to go to France to see Magnolia, but Nana hadn't mentioned that much. We keep our conversations between us, about us, besides the occasional tidbit of information. She’s let me know that Mags is doing fine, but she doesn't openly talk about her, and I don't ask. I told her that I had been calling, and she knows that Mags will occasionally answer. She doesn’t ask details of what we talk about, and I don’t offer. I don’t want to put her in the middle of our relationship, or the relationship I’m attempting to make with her again.
So, when I woke up this morning with Nana on my mind, I figured it was because of Mags and her parents making the trip out to see her.
But I spent the morning shoveling out the horse barn thinking of her, fed the chickens and gathered their eggs thinking of her.
So, when Grayson said he was gonna run into town to pick up something at the feed store, I volunteered, thinking I would check in on her just because. I’m sure as hell glad I did.
The firetruck pulls around the corner, lights flashing, sirens blaring, and parks along the street. The ambulance slows behind them, and I step back so they can pull into the driveway.
“How is she?” Theo asks as soon as he exits the truck.
Theo is known for being the jokester, the one that can put a smile on all our faces.
But I'm sure glad he hopped out of the truck knowing how worried I’d be about Nana.
Knowing how much she means to me and knowing what losing her would do to me and the people I care about.
“I think she's all right,” I tell him. “Her right leg is externally rotated,” I say loud enough that the EMTs can hear as they roll up with the gurney. “She has a bruise on the side of her forehead, but she’s talking and sassy and moving her upper body just fine.”
“Were you here when it happened?” Theo asks, and I shake my head no.
“Just thought of her all morning and finally decided I needed to check on her, you know?”
He nods as the gurney rolls past us. We help the EMTs lift it up over the few concrete steps, and once we’re in the house, I move ahead of them, ushering down the hall to her bedroom.
“This way,” I tell them, leading them down the narrow hall. I hear the gurney switch from the wood floors to the soft carpet, rattling when the wheels roll over the threshold. They slow when they wiggle their way into the bedroom, and I step ahead, climbing over Nana to stand at her feet.
“How’s my favorite girl doing?”
“Oh, just peachy,” she says, trying to twist her head back to look at the team waiting for her.
“Your carriage and your entourage await you,” Theo says, stepping into the bathroom to stand by me. He squats low, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Theo, Lukas’s older, wiser, and incredibly handsome brother.”
I scoff, letting my head fall back and eyes roll toward the ceiling. “He forgot to say more mature, and obviously, more modest.”
“Obviously, modest,” one of the paramedics mumbles, and as the bathroom starts to fill, I open the shower curtain, stepping in to give everyone more space.
They immediately get to work. Someone rests her arm at her side so they can apply the blood pressure cuff, and the other takes a pen light, shining it across her eyes.
I can see the worry build on her face, so I keep my vision glued to her. Every time her eyes catch me, I make sure to smile and nod. By the third time, she laughs, rolling her eyes before looking at Theo. “He’s a little overbearing, don’t you think?” she whisper-hisses, and Theo barks out a laugh.
“Yeah, but only when it’s someone he cares about, so consider yourself lucky.” He finishes it off with a wink, and Nana smiles before turning her attention back toward me.
“Lukas, if we didn’t have such a history together, Theo here might bump you out of first place as my favorite.”
Theo chuckles at that, lifting his gaze to me and pointing a stern finger in my direction. “Hear that, little brother? Five minutes in, and I’m already vying for her number one spot.”
“How are we doing in here?” a deep voice interrupts.
Dean peeks his head in, leaning into the bathroom to assess the situation.
He stripped off his coat at some point, wearing his overalls and a Copper Ridge firefighter tee, giving Nana a front row view of the tattoos that start on the backs of his knuckles and trail up his arms, finishing off on the sides of his neck. He looks down at her, smiling.
“Is this another one of your brothers, Lukas?” Nana asks.
“No, ma’am. This is Dean. He works with us at the farm and with Theo at the fire station.”
“Well,” she says, adjusting her shoulders on the floor. She claps her hands over her waist, lacing her fingers together. “I think the competition for cutest helper today just blew wide open.”