I sigh. “He’s still nuts about you.”
“No, he’s not. And even if he is…” She shrugs. She doesn’t care. “Well done,” she says.
What?
“For not frothing at the mouth,” she clarifies, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Even now, she’s making fun of me. “I’ve never frothed!” I try to sound offended, but her lips twitch in a slight smile, which was my intention. “Let’s see your dad. I have a surprise for you.”
“Surprise?”
“Come.” I take her hand.
My mother is standing at the end of Ray’s bed, her head bowed, as she listens to Dr. Crowe and a woman dressed in scrubs. Grace perks up when she sees us.
“Christian.” She kisses my cheek, then hugs my wife. “Ana. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine. It’s my father I’m worried about.”
“He’s in good hands. Dr. Sluder is an expert in her field. We trained together at Yale.”
“Mrs. Grey.” Dr. Sluder shakes Ana’s hand. She has a soft southern accent, her words sounding like a lullaby. “As the lead physician for your father, I’m pleased to tell you that all is on track. His vital signs are stable and strong. We have every faith that he’ll make a complete recovery. The brain swelling has stopped and shows signs of decreasing. This is very encouraging after such a short time.”
“That’s good news,” Ana says, a little color returning to her cheeks.
“It is, Mrs. Grey. We’re taking real good care of him. Great to see you again, Grace.”
“Likewise, Lorraina.”
“Dr. Crowe, let’s leave these good people to visit with Mr. Steele.” Crowe follows Dr. Sluder out of the ward.
Ana looks down at Ray, who is still sleeping peacefully. Grace takes her hand. “Ana, sweetheart, sit with him. Talk to him. It’s all good. I’ll visit with Christian in the waiting room.”
“How’s she doing?” Grace asks.
“It’s hard to tell. She’s bearing up, but I know she’s extremely anxious. She’s normally so strong.”
“It must be a shock to her, darling. Thank heavens you’re here with her.”
“Thank you for coming, Mom. What you said was really reassuring, and I’m sure it made a huge difference to Ana.”
Grace smiles at me. “You love her so.”
“I do.”
“What will you do for her birthday tomorrow?”
“I’m undecided, but I thought we might go ahead and have a low-key celebration here.”
“I think that’s a good idea. I’ll stay in Portland tonight. It’s not often I get some time to myself.”
“Andrea has booked a room for you and dad at The Heathman.”
She smiles. “Christian, you’re so capable. You think of everything.”
Her words spread like warm summer sunshine through my body.
I strip out of my white T-shirt, and Ana grabs it and slips it over her head before climbing into bed.
“You seem brighter.” I don my pajamas, pleased that Ana wants to wear my T-shirt.
“Yes. I think talking to Dr. Sluder and your mom made a big difference. Did you ask Grace to come here?”
Sliding into bed, I pull her into my arms, her back to my front; it’s the best position to spoon with my girl. “No. She wanted to come and check on your dad herself.”
“How did she know?”
“I called her this morning.”
Ana sighs.
“Baby, you’re exhausted. You should sleep.”
“Hmm,” she mumbles, then turns her head to look at me, frowning.
What?
She turns over and curls herself around me, her warmth permeating my skin as I stroke her hair. Whatever she was thinking about, it seems to have gone.
“Promise me something,” I ask.
“Hmm?”
“Promise me you’ll eat something tomorrow. I can just about tolerate you wearing another man’s jacket without frothing at the mouth, but, Ana, you must eat. Please.”
“Hmm,” she grunts in agreement and I kiss her hair. “Thank you for being here,” she mumbles, and kisses my chest.
“Where else would I be? I want to be wherever you are, Ana.”
Always.
You are my wife. My family now.
And family comes first.
I stare up at the ceiling, remembering the first time we slept together in this room.
So long ago. And yet, not so long ago.
It was a revelation.
Sleeping with someone.
Sleeping with her.
“Being here makes me think of how far we’ve come. And the night I first slept with you.” I whisper, “What a night that was. I watched you for hours. You were just…yar.”
I sense Ana’s tired smile against my chest.
Oh, baby.
“Sleep,” I murmur, and it’s not a request.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Grandpa Theodore hands me an apple. It’s bright red. And tastes sweet; of home and long rich summers when the days went on forever. There’s a light breeze on my face. It’s cooling in the sunshine. We stand eye to eye in the orchard. His face sun-worn and weather-beaten, the etched lines in his skin telling a thousand stories. He reaches up, and a tremor runs through his hand. He’s not as steady as he once was…Grandpa! He grasps my shoulder, his eyes hooded but still shining with wisdom and love… For me. I see it now. Remember how we made the sweet apples when you were a boy? I grin. They’re still sweet. The trees are still giving. He smiles, his skin crinkling around his eyes. Boy, you were an odd one. Wouldn’t talk. Awful shy. Now look at you. Master of your own universe. I’m proud of you, son. You done good. The warmth of his words matches the warmth of the sun. Behind him, Mom, Dad, Elliot, Mia, and Ana are walking through the long, lush grass to join us with a blanket and a picnic basket. Ana laughs at something Mia says. She tips her head back, her hair free and catching the golden light. My mom joins in. Laughing, too. It’s all about family, boy. Always. Family first. Ana turns and beams at me. The sunshine of her smile lighting me from within. My light. My love. My family. Ana.
I wake, but before I open my eyes, I savor my contentment. All is right in the world, everything is as it should be, and I know I’m enjoying the remnants of a now-forgotten dream.