Page 29
Grayson continued completing the frame, grunting as he worked. These must have been some tough pieces. Even with Lucy’s magic, building this required a lot of effort from him. His muscles strained, sweat breaking across his skin, and he was aware of Lucy watching him, which made his heart pound for reasons unrelated to the strenuous labor.
“Phew,” Grayson sighed, finally done. His arms felt like jelly. “That was a bit more complicated than anticipated.” He took his glasses off and wiped his face, putting them on again in time to see Lucy bite back an amused smile.
“So complicated.”
He turned to look at her fully then, and she gave him a smug smile. The realization that she had not helped in the slightest dawned on him.
No wonder it had been so difficult. Ugh! She could have easily put the daybed together with her magic but instead had forced him to do manual labor.
He growled deep in his throat, winding up to scold her. She clapped her hands.
“Well, would you look at the time!” she said. “Better go pick up Charles!”
“Evil, insufferable, aggravating …” he muttered to himself, giving her a glare before going to the bathroom to wipe the sweat off his body with wet paper towels and put his sweater back on.
When he returned, he watched as a mattress slid itself over to the daybed, landing in place on top. With a snap of Lucy’s fingers, sheets appeared, and with a wave of her hand, the bed was made, complete with a mix of fluffed-up pillows, a gray duvet, and a blue throw blanket.
Grayson growled, but there was no time to scold Lucy then. He had to pick up Charles. Grabbing his coat and keys, he left, heading for the hospital. There, he informed the receptionist that he was here to pick up his grandfather, who was being discharged.
“I’ll let the nurses know,” the receptionist informed him. “Have a seat. He’ll be down in a bit.”
With a nod, Grayson went and took a chair by the window, trying not to focus on the harsh smell of the hospital or the blinding white lights. What he had said to Lucy was true; until his grandfather’s accident, he hadn’t been in a hospital since the car crash, when he had been six.
It had been a blur of bright lights and rushing doctors and fear, so much fear. Eventually, he’d fallen asleep in his grandmother’s arms, but when he’d woken, he was lying across the cold chairs while his grand-parents were standing.
Then came the news, and with it, the crushing grief. Charles had held Grayson then. For so long after, this was the memory that always stuck out to him: his grandfather, holding on.
Holding on until he let go, of course. Until he sent Grayson away and forgot about him entirely.
Pain flashed through Grayson, and he wondered if he should be here at all, after the way he had been treated for all those years. Not for the first time, he wished he’d had some close friend or lover he felt vulnerable enough with to discuss his family situation, but he never had, and so he never did.
He pushed the thoughts from his mind. He didn’t need outside opinions. He knew why he was here, and it wasn’t to wallow in the past but to forge a future, before it was too late.
Finally, Charles exited the elevator. He was in a wheelchair being pushed by a nurse. Grayson stood, walking over.
“Hey,” Charles said, giving Grayson a smile.
“Hello,” Grayson replied, smiling back. “Good to see you’re doing well.”
Charles looked thin and tired, but he seemed much happier now, leaving the hospital behind. He had exchanged the hospital gown for a long-sleeved flannel shirt and weathered blue jeans and couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting.
“Thank you,” Grayson told the nurse, taking the wheelchair handles from her. “I’ve got it from here.”
The nurse nodded, going on her way, and Grayson wheeled Charles out of the hospital, taking in a gulp of fresh air the moment they exited the front doors. He finally felt like he could breathe again, and he heard Charles take in a deep breath as well.
“Shall I take you home?” Grayson asked, heading for the parking garage.
“No, no,” Charles said. “Take me to the store. I want to see Lucy.”
Whatever joy Grayson had previously felt vanished in an instant. Would he ever have a conversation with Charles without Lucy coming up?
Sighing, Grayson brought Charles to the car, helping him in before setting the wheelchair provided by the hospital in the trunk, next to a cane he had purchased for when Charles was ready.
Grayson got back in the car and drove them to the bookstore, a short drive away. Charles hummed to himself, holding on to the grab handle above the window. Grayson tried to think of something to say, but he was drawing a blank, and driving on the wrong side of the road in the States was requiring a lot of his attention, so he remained quiet.
When they arrived in front of Crawley Books, Charles smiled, happy. He opened his door, making to stand up, and Grayson rushed out of the driver’s seat and around the car. “Wait a second!” Grayson said, worried. “Let me get the wheelchair.”
He retrieved the wheelchair from the back, opening it and setting it in front of Charles, who was excited and getting ahead of himself. “Here,” Grayson said, offering his arm.
