Chapter 33 - Gwendolyn
Gwendolyn
If I nibble on my thumbnail any longer, I might not have it anymore, but at this moment I really don’t care.
Obviously Logan does, as he takes my hand and gently pulls it from my mouth.
My gaze leaves my grandmother, where it’s been since we flew into the hospital this morning like a bat out of hell, travelling over to Logan.
Like all the other times my eyes have sought his today, those hazel eyes are already on me.
Looking down at me with an expression that begs to ask if I’m okay.
But his voice doesn’t bring those words to light, because he knows I’m not.
Instead, he offers a smile or a wink, just a little reminder to let me know he sees me.
And knowing that he is here has made this bomb drop of a horrible day tolerable.
How can everything go from being so magical, waking up in the arms of the man of my dreams, to receiving the worst news of my life?
A brain tumor.
How can this be real life? How can my grandmother be sick? She is supposed to be the strongest one of all. The glue that held us together since we lost our parents. The one that took the role of grandmother, mother, and father when we needed it.
I squeeze my eyes shut to stop the pressure of tears threatening to spill over. I wouldn’t cry right now, not in front of everyone. The breakdown can wait until I am back in the comfort of my bed and surrounded by the darkness.
A touch caresses my cheek, and I lean into Logan’s palm. The warmth of his skin calmed me in a way I never thought possible for another person. The tingles of anxiety still dance over me, but he eases them enough to breathe normally again.
A loud noise from across the room has my eyes opening again. They jump right to my grandmother as fear spikes my heart rate that something is wrong only to find her tickling Rowan, who is snuggled in her lap.
Between giggles, Row releases a soft yawn, reminding all of us how late it is.
“Alright, bug,” Jackson stands from the loveseat, groaning as he stretches his long limbs. “It’s time for bed. You have school tomorrow, and you are already up way past your bedtime.”
Rowan’s eyes fill with tears as she tucks her head on Ophelia’s shoulder. Her tiny bottom lip juts out with a wobble that’s clear, even from across the room. “Can I sleep in Grandma’s room?”
My chest aches for her, knowing she doesn’t really understand what is going on, but can still feel that something is wrong enough to not want to leave.
Jacks told her that Ophelia had a little fall, and she had to visit the hospital this morning.
The truth, but not the whole truth. Just enough to let an eight-year-old know something is going on, not enough to cause more worry for a child.
Jackson shakes his head. “Sorry, bug. You’re a bed hog and Grandma needs all the rest she can get without your little buggy feet digging into her side.”
“Your dad is right, Row.” Ophelia places a kiss on her great-granddaughter’s forehead. “I’ll be right down the hall, like always, though. I promise.”
“Okay.” Rowan drags out the word as she slides down from the chair and walks over to me.
“Goodnight, Aunt Gwenny.” Her little arms go around my neck, and I take the chance to soak up her hug.
I bury my face in her wild curls, squeezing a little tighter than usual when a single tear escapes the corner of my eye, sliding down my cheek.
I swipe at it quickly when she pulls back.
Looking over at Logan wearily, I can see Rowan weigh whether or not she wants to tell him goodnight as well.
“Goodnight, Princess Rowan,” Logan offered with a grin.
She stares at him another beat. “Do you want a hug, too, Mr. Logan?” Leaning forward slightly, she adds in a whisper, “You look like you could use a hug.”
We all choke on a laugh at how blunt my niece can be.
Logan chuckles and leans forward, opening his arms for her. “Yeah, kiddo, I would love a hug.”
She doesn’t wait another second before launching herself in his arms. I notice Logan’s eyes glisten before closing his eyes and squeezing her back. I try not to enjoy the look of Logan being sweet with my niece too much, but it’s hard to hold back the emotions when they are already heightened.
When she releases him, she turns back to her father, not giving him a second to prepare before she’s launching herself at him.
“Let’s go, Daddy!” She points toward the staircase that leads to all of our old rooms. Mine was converted into a princess palace just for her when I moved out a few years ago. Jackson rolls his eyes at his daughter, but I see the small smile playing on his lips that he reserves just for her.
“I think I’m getting too old to carry you up the steps, bug,” he grunts when he takes the first one. Even though he might not be joking, I know that he will always carry her if she wants it.
Rowan gives a princess wave to everyone as he continues up the steps. Her little hand goes lower for us to still see her until they disappear from view.
“Why don’t you two head home?” Ophelia pulls my attention back to her.
The oversized recliner I’ve barely allowed her to leave aside from bathroom breaks makes a small screeching noise as she lowers the footrest. I immediately pop up from my place on the couch opposite her, making my way over when I see she’s trying to stand.
Her legs slightly wobble, and she reaches out for the armrest. I latch onto her to make sure she stays upright.
“Phee!” I chastise. “I would have come to help you. What do you need? Some water? Another blanket?”
Her eyes cast down to the mountain of blankets I had already tucked her into before coming back up to meet mine.
There’s still a sparkle of humor twinkling within them amidst the tiredness.
Seeing that eases my hammering heart a little, but speeds back up again when I notice a wince she attempts to cover up.
“Do you need some more pain medicine? I think you can take more now. Is it your stitches?” I eyeball the bandage on her forehead that covers up a couple stitches that were needed.
When she fell this morning, she caught the corner of the bathroom counter.
Luckily, she didn’t lose total consciousness, and the doctors said it was just a mild concussion.
I don’t know how you can say just when saying concussion.
To me, they all seem more than just anything.
Ophelia pats my cheek, looking deep into my eyes. “Honey, I say this with the most love in the world, but please stop. I’m going to be okay. It was a bump on the head. They wouldn’t have sent me home if it weren’t safe.”
“What about…” I swallow against the lump in my throat forming at the thought of why she lost her balance in the first place.
Her green eyes soften. “I’m going to be okay,” she repeats. Only this time there’s a wobble in her voice that makes me wonder who she is trying to reassure.
“I wish you told me,” I say quietly. Feeling bad that I’m bringing this up right now, but also needing to let it out. “Why didn’t you?”
“My sweet girl,” she sighs. Her face lifts to look over at the couch I previously occupied, smiling at the man watching us from over there. “Let’s go have a seat on the couch. That’s where I was headed for one last cuddle with my girl tonight before Supergirl flew over to rescue me.”
Guiding me this time, we make our way over to Logan, who stands from his spot to make room for us.
“You don’t have to go anywhere, Logan. Sit back down.
” Ophelia urges him to sit. which he waits to do until after both my grandmother and I have taken our spots.
He situates himself right next to me again.
The length of his thigh is lined up with mine, his arm going around the back of the couch to angle himself toward us.
I catch Ophelia watching our connection, a smile playing on her lips. When she looks back up at me, she grins harder with a wink. The heat radiating from my skin tells me I probably resemble a tomato.
“First of all, I am so sorry I cut your trip short.”
She raises her hand to stop me when I open my mouth to speak.
“Did you two have a good time?” She leans around me to quirk an eyebrow at Logan.
He clears his throat. I’m sure the good time we had is flashing through his mind. “Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s wonderful. Y’all deserve a little time away from the craziness lately. Is everything going well with the festival? I feel like we haven’t had time to chat about it lately.”
I furrow my brow at how normal this conversation is right now. Completely the opposite of what I really want to talk to her about, but I know that one will come eventually. It has to, now that it’s out in the world.
“Things are going well,” I start, my eyes cutting to Logan, who encourages me to continue with a tip of his head.
I take a deep breath. “All the booths are still in great shape, so we won’t have to worry about fixing them up too much.
A loose screw here and there and mainly some paint touch-ups.
The decorations have seen better days, but I have to work with what we’ve got unless I take the hit myself to buy more. ”
Logan places a hand on my knee. “I thought you said they were still usable?”
I cringe at the reminder of my placating comment when I was attempting to ease the worry that was splashed on everyone’s faces at the committee meeting.
“I thought they were, but when I stopped by yesterday, I realized whoever packed everything up last year didn’t do a good enough job.
Animals must have gotten to them. But I can figure it out. ”
“No, we can go to my mother. See if there’s any wiggle room in the budget.”
“I already did. She said that we didn’t have any extra funds this year.” I wave away his concern that is written all over his face. “I can make it work. Even if that means overnight shipping a few new things.”
Logan’s eyes darken slightly, and I want to ask why, but Ophelia speaks up.