Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
We exit the elevator hand in hand, and when we approach the desk, I speak for her… for us. “Hi, we’re looking for Harold Dawson.”
“Are you family?”
“Yes, my wife is his granddaughter.” I can feel McKenna’s eyes on me when I once again refer to her as my wife. That’s something that I could definitely get used to.
“They just brought him up. I need to check on him again. Why don’t I show you to his room?” she offers. “Follow me? We have a two-visitor rule, but as long as you don’t upset him and let him rest, it will be fine.” She gives me a flirty wink. I’m ready to chastise her for flirting with me in front of my wife when McKenna demands her attention.
“Thank you,” McKenna says, pulling the nurse's attention.
“Of course.” The nurse must see the look on McKenna’s face because all hints of flirtation are gone as she leads us to Harold’s room.
“Mr. Dawson, you have visitors,” the nurse says after knocking lightly on the door.
“Mac.” Harold holds his hand out for McKenna, and she drops mine, racing to him.
“Hey, Gramps,” she whispers through her tears.
I make my way to them and place my palm on the small of her back, letting her silently know I’m here for her. “You gave us a scare,” I tell Harold.
“Oh, I’m fine now. Right as rain, in fact. The doc fixed up my ticker, and Agnes is already talking about taking all the good food away from me. I’m going to be just fine.” He chuckles, and although he’s a little pale, he sounds like himself.
McKenna’s lip quivers. “I was so scared,” she tells him, her voice cracking.
“My sweet girl,” he says but stops and looks at where her other hand is clasped tightly in mine. “What’s this?” He looks up, and the grin on his ashen face is not something I expected.
“Oh my word, is that what I think it is?” Agnes says from her post on the opposite side of the bed. “Rip?” she asks since McKenna seems to be struck speechless.
“I’m working on convincing McKenna to be my girlfriend,” I tell them.
“Congratulations, you two.” Harold smiles at us.
“Gram, Gramps, this is a mis—” McKenna starts, but Harold talks over her.
“I couldn’t think of a better man for you,” he tells her. There’s nothing but honesty and acceptance in his gaze. “I’d say this news turned a bad day into a great day.” He looks at his wife.
“Yes,” Agnes says, wiping at her eyes. “I’m so happy for both of you. I always hoped this would be how the two of you ended up. Come here.” She walks to our side of the bed, wrapping us both in a hug.
“Grams—” McKenna starts. This time it’s me who’s talking over her.
“Thank you. I’ll make her happy. I promise you.”
“Oh, Rip, we know that you will.”
Bending, I place a kiss on McKenna’s temple. She stares up at me like I’ve lost my mind. That’s okay. We’ve yet to really talk about us and our night together, other than me telling her I wanted her to be mine. We will. I needed her to see her family. I needed her to be able to see with her own eyes that Harold was going to be okay. At least, I hoped that was the outcome we would find when we arrived. Luck happened to be on our side, and he’s going to be fine. He’ll struggle through some diet modifications, but I know for a fact he’ll do whatever Agnes tells him. That’s what you do for the woman you love, no matter if it’s to save your life or not.
“Tell us about your trip,” Agnes insists. The heaviness and sadness that was in her eyes when we walked in are now masked by her happiness for us.
“It was fun,” McKenna says, glancing up at me.
“Best trip I’ve ever taken,” I say, keeping my eyes on McKenna. I need her to know that my words are true. I might not remember every detail of our night together, but I do remember going back to her room and her asking me to stay. I remember us falling into bed, and after that, it’s a fog, but the condom wrapper on the floor and the condom in the bathroom trash tell me the ending of our night at least. I hate that I can’t remember, but that’s okay. I plan to repeat that night, sans alcohol, very soon.
“We’re going to have to celebrate. Dinner,” Harold says, looking at his wife.
“As long as they have heart-healthy options on the menu. Or I could make us a family dinner at the house,” she offers.
“As long as we get to celebrate these kids and their future, I’m fine with it,” Harold tells her. I’d expected him to be at least grumpy from being in the hospital, but he’s always been a happy guy.