“Don’t worry.” Mira came closer to me and reached out to pull me into a very uncharacteristic hug. “And for what it’s worth, I think it’s about damn time. Everyone around here could see you two belong with each other.”
“Don’t screw it up this time.” Darcy wagged her finger at me. “I’m all in favor of second chances, believe me, but you can’t assume they’ll be a third.”
“I’m very grateful, I promise.” I nodded my head, moving it up and down like a damn bobblehead. “I’m going to make that call. Thanks, Mira.”
In my office, I moved through my routine on autopilot, draping my suit jacket over the back of my desk chair and pouring coffee before I sat down and turned on my computer. For almost an hour, I reviewed patient files, answered email, and made notes on charts.
Finally, I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer. Maybe part of me had been hoping that Ted would reappear, that he’d have a change of heart and decide to come back. But those were the unrealistic hopes of a boy who’d never stopped wishing his father would turn out to be a hero instead of a disappointment. I hadn’t been that boy for a long, long time . . . or so I’d thought. Maybe part of him had still existed deep within the man who knew better.
I picked up my phone and dialed the number by heart.
Gram answered on the second ring. “Hello, Deacon.” There was something about her voice that told me she had been expecting my call.
“Gram. Hi. How’re you this morning?”
She let out a long breath. “I’m all right, honey. How about you?”
“I’m good. Listen, Gram, I wanted to tell you—”
“That Ted left the hospital? Yes, son, I know.” She lowered her voice. “He’s here. I guess he called one of those car service things and had them bring him out here.”
“He did?” Now this was a surprise. “Okay. I’ll be right there. I can pick him and bring him back here.”
“No, Deacon.” Gram sounded weary. “Don’t do that. He doesn’t want to be in the hospital. He’s leaving again. He used our phone to call one of his friends from the band. I guess they’re still in the area, and the bus is going to swing by here to pick him up before they hit the road again.”
Unexpected anger gripped my gut. “Why is he out at the farm, then? Why didn’t he just leave from the hospital?”
“He wanted to say good-bye to Pop and me.” I didn’t miss the tremor in those words. “He wanted to see the old place one last time, I guess.”
“Son of a bitch,” I ground out. “He couldn’t just leave well enough alone, could he?”
“No, honey, it’s not like that.” Gram was quiet for a long moment. “This is good. This is . . . well, it’s not perfect, but then, what is? When it comes to Teddy, this is the best we could ever expect. He’s here making his peace, at last. And then he’s going away to die on his own terms, the same way he lived his life.”
“And you’re all right with that?” I knew it was unreasonable, but I wanted Gram to be pissed off, too. I wanted some company in my fury.
“Deacon, it doesn’t matter one damn bit whether I am or not. It’s not going to change Ted’s mind. So I have a choice. I can decide to let this be enough and find a place of acceptance, or I can decide it’s not and be angry for another ten years. Or however long I have left this side of glory.” She paused, and I could almost see her shrugging. “I’m choosing to let it be enough. I’m going to be grateful that my son came to say good-bye to me. And I’m going to choose to remember that in spite of all of his faults, he gave me a great gift when he left you with Pop and me. I wouldn’t change that for all the world, honey.”
I swallowed over the lump in my throat. “I wouldn’t either, Gram. I wouldn’t change being raised by you and Pop if I had to make the decision a hundred times.”
“Glad to hear it.” She cleared her throat. “Now I’m going back out to the porch to sit with Ted and Pop until that bus pulls up. And then tonight, I’m making chicken and dumplings and green beans and biscuits, and you and Emma and her folks are going to come over and eat with us.”
“How did you know Emma’s parents are in town?” I asked. “And how did you know—I mean, Emma and I—”
“Deacon, how many times do I have to tell you that a grandmother knows things? Also, you might remember since I’ve mentioned it a time or two, Emma’s my friend. She tells me things. We text. And your grandfather drove all the way into town to haul that massage table to her cabin, so I was sure hoping she was planning to put it to good use with you and not some other man.”
“Gram.” I closed my eyes and dropped my forehead into my hands.
“I’m going to go now, honey. I’ll see you tonight. Six sharp, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am, I hear.” I drew in a ragged breath. “I love you, Gram.”
“I love you, too, honey.”
There was a soft click, and the call was over.
For a long time, I sat at my desk, staring down at my keyboard. But I wasn’t seeing it. I was instead seeing in my mind all of the times Gram and Pop had gone above and beyond to make sure I didn’t lack for any attention or love. Incredible gratitude rushed over me like a wave, and suddenly, Ted’s departure didn’t mean anything.
Like Gram said, it was his choice. We all had choices.
