“I guess if I want faster results, I should go more than once a month,” she muses.
I choke on my laughter. How is this woman so funny all the time?
Slowing the car, I turn onto the concrete drive. “Here we are.”
Magnolia pauses mid-ramble and looks around with awe.
I slow at the gate and hit the button on the car’s visor.
“Is your grandfather in maintenance?” she asks as she faces away from me.
I glance around at what she’s looking at.
The concrete driveway is lined with landscaping. The wrought iron gate is a work of art. There’s ornamental grasses, flowers, shrubs, and a variety of trees. It almost feels like you’re pulling into an old English estate. Like something from those BBC shows my mom loves to watch.
I think Magnolia agrees with my assessment of it because she’s staring at everything in wonder.
“He’s a landscaper,” I say by way of explanation.
She’s glued to the window. Soaking up every detail of the beautiful estate, the same way I did when I first came here. The sun is shining through the window, giving her long, blonde hair a halo effect.
I park in front of the house, and she’s already standing on the sidewalk by the time I climb out. I take a deep breath and lead the way up the stone steps and through the front door.
The mood is somber, and I fight the urge to sprint to his room.
“Should I take my shoes off?” Magnolia whispers as we walk through the entryway into a foyer with tiled flooring.
A large staircase with a detailed banister and an open balcony is the first thing in front of us.
“No, you can leave your shoes on.” I hurry up the stairs.
Magnolia follows quietly behind. Mary is waitingoutside of the main suite, watching our progress up the stairs.
“It’s good that you finally came,” she scolds Magnolia quietly.
Just before we reach her, Magnolia whispers, “Landscaper, my ass.” She points to the expensive art on the hallway walls.
Mary greets me with a pat on the arm. “It’s about time you brought her.” She latches on to Magnolia as though she might disappear into thin air. “He’s been beside himself about meeting her.”
Mary opens the door and leads Magnolia inside.
The doctor stands next to my grandfather, who looks as though the bed is trying to swallow him. He turns his head slowly when I step forward.
“You brought her.” Grandpa’s voice is frail and barely reaches us. A very different thing from his usually booming one.
The doctor moves away from the bed, stopping next to me. “He’s weak. I wish I had good news for you. But enjoy this time with him.” He rests a hand on my shoulder briefly, then leaves the room with Mary.
“Come closer,” Grandpa rasps.
I follow behind Magnolia and rest a hand gently on her shoulder. “This is Magnolia. Magnolia, this is my grandpa, Alexander.”
“Not Jane?” Grandpa asks with a frown. Because Jane was the name of my ex-fiancée. Why didn’t I think of that? Completely different names? I could kick myself.
“I prefer Magnolia,” she says simply. She moves forward to stand next to his bed. “Nash didn’t tell me you were so handsome.”
That elicits a small smile from him. “You’re a flatterer. I like it.”
“I never flatter. It’s the truth. I see the family resemblance.”
