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Instead, he asked, “Would you like to go outside for a while? It’s a beautiful day.” He didn’t know how often she felt the sun on her face. Not too much, he imagined, because she eagerly accepted whenever he offered to take her out.
“Yes, but I’d like to put my flowers in my room first. I want to enjoy them after you’re gone.”
He obliged her, and they took a trip down the hall so he could carefully place them in the clear, plastic vase on her nightstand. As always, he’d slip an orderly a few bucks to add water every day to help keep them fresh. Even if she couldn’t see them, she wanted to enjoy the smell as long as she could.
“I brought some of those muffins you like too. Do you want me to leave them here, or do you want to take one outside?”
She sighed softly. “Here’s fine. I haven’t had too much of an appetite lately.”
He studied the old woman as he wheeled her out to the gazebo. She had lost weight, and she had the bruise, but she hadn’t changed much otherwise since he’d visited last month. “Are you feeling okay?”
She waved her hand in the air impatiently. “I’m old. I feel…old. I don’t feel much like talking today.”
Didn’t feel like talking? Usually, he spent his hours here listening to his grandma detail every single thing happening in the facility, from the contents of the dinner menu to which old devils had their sons smuggle them Viagra during their visits.
“You want me to go?”
Her unseeing eyes stared straight ahead as she lifted her chin toward the gentle breeze. “No. Stay a spell. I like it out here.”
They sat together in silence.
It wasn’t until about an hour later, as he wheeled her into her room, she finally spoke. “I don’t know exactly what you have to do to keep me in this place. I imagine it’s nothing pretty. Your daddy’s dealer was already using you when you were a kid. I let it happen. I let you sacrifice to take care of me. That’s my failing, my weakness. And I know you still answer to him. I hear their talk. They make their threats. I know they use me to get to you. They have, all these years.” She shook her head sadly. “But it’s almost over.”
How did she know? The hidden money, the plan to get her to the nice place in Savannah, he had never told anyone, except for the little bit he’d shared with Olivia.
“I’m dying,” she said softly.
What? “No. You’re doing great.” He sat at the foot of her twin bed. He picked up the soft, red, flannel blanket he’d bought her last Christmas and settled it on her lap.
She ran her gnarled fingers over the fabric. “You’ve got your mother’s soft heart.” Her face hardened. “It’s how they’ll break you.”
The air conditioning kicked on with a loud rumble, and the icy breeze skittered down his neck. The chilled air made him shudder, not his grandmother’s words. “No one’s going to break me.”
Grandma pulled the blanket up to her neck, and a shiver wracked her thin frame. “Only time will tell. Just don’t forget the kind of people you’re dealing with.”
He nodded sharply and left her to her cupcakes and gardenias.
The old woman could have saved her breath with her warning. No chance in hell he’d ever forget he was swimming with the sharks. The second he stopped moving, they wouldn’t hesitate to eat him alive.
Only one person in his life offered him a safe haven. Only one who he didn’t have to pretend with, lie to, or posture for.
And in her arms was the only place he wanted to be.
***
Liv
Liv stared out the window of her apartment as lightning lit the dark sky. Rain beat a steady cadence on the rooftop, tempting her to close her eyes and set the papers on her table aside. She wasn’t in the mood to grade final exams, and the last two essays she’d read were downright terrible.
For every standout student, she had two who could barely string words together into a sentence. For them to get this close to graduating, it was even more depressing. The system had failed them and soon they’d be out in the world trying to survive with only a fraction of the skills they should’ve been taught.
She rubbed her forehead, trying to dislodge the melancholy threatening to creep in. What she needed was a distraction.
She flipped on the TV and cycled through the channels. Cooking shows. Home makeovers. Nothing caught her interest, so she turned it off.
Truthfully, there was only one distraction she really wanted. But after all of Brick’s revelations the night before, would he want her to call again so soon? Would he want space, or would he think she was rejecting him over the secrets he’d finally told her?
She picked up the phone, then put it down. Then picked it up again and held it to her chest. She was about to break down and call when a giant clap of thunder shook the walls, and the room went black.
