“Still having the headaches?” Beverly asks as she wipes down the table in the booth next to where I’m sitting.
I nod. “I have Advil in my bag in the back office. I’m heading to the hospital. Are you okay closing up?” I stand and reach for the laptop. Instant pain ricochets inside my head, causing me to stumble. Beverly’s hands thrust forward and catch me before my head hits the table.
“Whoa. You sure it’s not serious?”
I sit back down, and she drops her hands. “I’m sure.” This morning, my mother took one look at me and said I was running myself into the ground. That I didn’t give myself time to recover after the fall. Maybe she’s right.
Beverly glances around the empty diner, then faces me. “Wait here. I’ll close up and drive you home.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Don’t argue with me, honey. And don’t move. I’ll get your bag and the pills.”
My heart drops to my stomach. If she drives me home, I won’t be able to see Sol today.
Shit.
I make another attempt to rise to my feet, but nausea slams into my throat, forcing me to slump back on the seat. I take deep breaths just as Beverly strides back with my bag and a bottle of water. After popping two pills into my mouth and chasing them with water, I lean my head back on the headrest.
I peel my eyes open when my cell pings with a message. I reach for it, then squint against the light as my fingers fumble with the screen.
Levi: Sorry I was an ass when you came to see me.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I blink back tears from staring at the bright screen against the throbbing in my head. Or maybe it’s the relief sweeping through me. I don’t expect him to forgive me or ask me to go see him, but the fact that he even bothered to text me back eases some of the constant heaviness in my chest.
Me: Yes, you were.
Me: You had every right to be one.
I’m about to add, I’m sorry, but stop myself. I’ve said it already and saying it again won’t make a difference. The ball is in his court now.
I toss the phone in my bag and stand just as Beverly walks from behind the counter, zipping up her coat.
“Does your mom know you’re not feeling well?” she asks as we walk out of the diner, and she locks the door.
“It’s just a headache. Nothing Advil and a good night’s sleep won’t fix.” Plus, I don’t want to worry her after the week we’ve had. I want to see her happy, just like she was before the accident.
We stop next to her car, and she turns to me with a contemplative look. “She’d want to know, though. Tell her or I will, Grace. You got hurt during that accident, and if this is serious, she’d want to know.”
“She knows. It’s not as bad as it was a few days ago. I just need to take it easy and rest.”
My phone rings, but I ignore it. I don’t have the energy to check. As soon as Beverly drops me off and tells me to call her if I need her, I trudge up to the apartment, shrug off my coat and boots, then shuffle inside the room.
My phone dings several times with notifications. I pull it out of my bag and climb into bed.
I have one text from Mom and three texts and a missed call from Ivan. Mom’s checking if I’m feeling better and also letting me know she and Chris will be home by 9 p.m. I type out a quick reply to tell her not to worry. I’m feeling better. I don’t want her rushing home instead of enjoying time with her boyfriend.
I tap the next one from Ivan and suck in a quick breath when I read it.
Ivan: Sol here. I guess you saw the missed call. I don’t have my cell yet, so I’m using Ivan’s.
Ivan: I’m out of the ICU. Doc says I’m doing great. Come see me?
Me: Sorry I missed your call. SO happy you’re out of the ICU.
My fingers pause as I think about my next words. I’m still mad at him, but I’m angrier with myself. And I don’t know how to handle all the anger and guilt I’m feeling. But one thing is for sure—there’s a higher power, and he answered my prayers. Sol and Levi are alive.
Me: I’ll come by tomorrow. Night, Sol.
Clutching the phone to my chest, I roll over to my side. Within seconds, my eyes fall shut, and I only have time to mumble, “Thank you for keeping them alive,” before sleep pulls me under.
After the doctor’s rounds Saturday morning, I force myself to sit still. Despite the morphine numbing the pain in my leg, I feel restless. And my chest hurts from all the banging my heart has been doing whenever someone walks into the room. It slows down when none of those people are Grace.
I’ll come by tomorrow.
That’s what she said. Did whatever my uncle say to her scare her away? Thinking about what he might have said pisses me off, and I have to take deep breaths to calm down.
It’s almost midday. She’s coming. I know she will.
To distract myself, I glance at Ivan. He’s channel-surfing, looking for something to watch. “Hey. What’s going on with you and MJ?”
The hand holding the remote freezes midair, and he looks at me. “What do you mean?”
“You two weren’t fawning over each other like usual. You didn’t even hug or kiss before she left. It’s not normal.”
His jaw clenches. He sets the remote on the table and faces me. “We’re fine. Just going through a rough patch.”
“Must be a really bad one.”
He props his elbows on his knees and rubs the nape of his neck. “Kind of, yeah. She wants to know where I see us going.” He huffs. “Who plans their future when they’re our age?”
“What did you tell her?”
He shrugs, fisting his hair and pulling it. “I . . . we . . . I mean.” He stops talking and takes a deep breath. “I can’t deal with that right now. Mom’s already pressuring me to meet this other chick. The daughter of one of her church friends.”
My brows shoot up. “So you’re going to meet her?”
He glares at me. “No.”
“You’re thinking of meeting her?”
“What the hell, man? What’s with the third degree?” He shoots to his feet and starts pacing.
“You’re crazy about MJ. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”
He stops and looks at me, his body deflating. “I just need some time. I haven’t figured out who I am yet. How the hell am I going to tell her what my five or ten-year plan looks like? Do you know what your five-year plan looks like?”
I laugh. “Isn’t it obvious? I didn’t leave the seminary for kicks.”
“So, she’s it for you, huh?”
I rub my jaw, tugging at the hair growing there. “Pretty much, yeah. If she still wants me after the shit I pulled.”
“She’s crazy about you, dude.” He sits down, shoulders lifting a bit in what I guess is relief now that the gears have shifted, and we’re back to talking about my problems.
I allow him to change the topic. “I think Luke might have said something to Grace.”
“Like what?”
“The nurse came into the room and mentioned Grace had come by to visit while I was in a coma. Luke totally froze up, and when I asked him about it, he couldn’t look at me or talk to me.”