AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What!” I asked incredulously, looking between them again. I sat stunned, waiting for the punch line.
“You’ve always known you and your brother and sister have a trust fund.”
“Yeah, Daddy, but millions!” I looked between them, completely confused yet again. We had wanted for nothing our entire lives, but millionaires we did not live like.
“Your mother isn’t a huge fan of money because she’s a damn hippie. If she had it her way, we would have lived in a tepee without doors or plumbing.”
“Seth, you are so full of shit, and way off base,” my mother corrected him with a laugh. “Anyway, Rose, what your father is trying to say is we have the money to back whatever dream you have and what we don’t have we borrow. We want to do this. It’s our dream to do it for you. We’ve been talking about it for years and praying for the day we had this conversation. You and your sister are old enough and more than responsible. Dream it up and let’s make it happen.”
That night I lay in my childhood bed dreaming big girl dreams, and for the first time since Grant died, I felt like I was taking a step in the right direction.
One and a Half Years Later
I watched Dallas and her husband, Dean, retreat happily to their car after my mother had
ordered them out of the house for a night alone. Probably one of their first nights since Annabelle was born. My sister, though she whined constantly, had taken to being a mother of two in the best way, but I knew they deserved this night. I had only managed to help with watching them a few short hours at a time since I spent most of my days in surgery. I still had a ways to go before I was certified to perform surgery on my own, but in a few short months I would be co-owner of The Grant Foster Cancer Treatment Center. I smiled as I thought of how Grant told me about his disdain and the fact that he’d never had luck with doctors and now his name was plastered on a three-story cancer hospital. I hoped he knew and was getting a kick out of it. It was definitely a slow realization through my pain of losing it that fighting the illness alongside my sister was exactly where I needed to be.
It wasn’t even a question as everything fell into place in the years it took to get the place going. It was simply a matter of when.
I looked on at Dallas’s babies, Grant and Annabelle, as my father read to them about the Bernstein Bears. I couldn’t believe how much those two favored their father, Dean. And I was still oddly in awe that my sister was a mother.
Things had changed so drastically.
I stared at the babies. Both of them had brilliant blue eyes and black hair. The only way I could tell they belonged to my sister was by their personalities. And Lord have mercy on us all for that. I chuckled as Grant squirmed loose of my father and came running towards me. His grin was devilish and his dimples showed as he ran into my arms, tackling me. It hadn’t taken me long to fall in love with him. I would say as long as it did his predecessor of the same name. It was love at first sight. The minute Grant Jeffrey Martin was born, I had a new purpose. Although being an aunt wasn’t what most would call a life goal, it meant more to me than anything.
“Aunt Wose, you and me sleep in de teepee tonight?” Grant asked, his chubby cheeks and sweet smell my undoing.
“Of course,” I said, picking him up and holding him close.
“Aunt Wose, I don’t want Annabelle da come,” he said directly into my ear, making me giggle at the tickle.
“Okay, buddy, I’ll make sure grandpa keeps her away.”
“Let’s go fast!” He urged me up the stairs so Anabelle couldn’t follow. I obliged, lifting him quickly up the stairs as his chubby hand nestled in my hair at the back of my neck, a habit he had formed when he was just months old. It warmed me to no end.
We sat up for hours, building our fort and playing underneath it. He told me about his day and about an incident with yogurt while I taught him the names of the bones in his arms and hand. Grant finally drifted to sleep and my mother peeked in and whispered goodnight. I lay next to him, watching his chest rise and fall.
I’d been beyond touched when my sister informed me she was naming her firstborn Grant. And although it stung at times, I couldn’t see him with any other name. He didn’t look a thing like the man I’d lost, but his beating heart reminded me of him daily. The baby had taken my entire heart over in a matter of minutes and refused to let go. And as I held him, I remembered thinking that was the kind of love I’d thought I’d lost forever. Loving my nephew the way I did reminded me that I was still capable, and though I’d suffered the worst loss imaginable, it let me know I was still there.
Watching the sweet saccharin drip from his mouth, I smiled. My Grant wouldn’t have wanted me to give up. I knew deep down that I would eventually have to try again. My thoughts drifted to the man I had just spent the night with. He was part of the reason I had cowered to my parents. I didn’t know what to think about what we’d done. He had been the first since I’d lost Grant.
With Jack, I’d managed to capture a small piece of me that I hadn’t realized still existed. The passion in which he’d taken me felt beyond good and yet the guilt I felt after leaving his bed was enough to level me. I didn’t want to be reminded of how much further my life with Grant had just drifted away with that one act.
Grant was no longer the last man that had touched me.
I closed my eyes, stifling a sob. That alone might be too much to bear. I drifted to sleep thinking of the first time Grant had ever kissed me. His strong arms braced on either side of his kneeling stance as he leaned in and pressed his soft full lips to mine. I dreamed of his tender kiss and the words that echoed throughout my body and through my thoughts daily on repeat, letting me know that what I had and lost was truly exceptional and could never be replaced.
“Did you feel that?”
I opened my eyes, hearing his voice with clarity, noting it had only been a short hour since I closed them. I pulled the covers over Grant and turned on my side to gaze out the bedroom window. I did what I always do and remembered Grant’s and my time from beginning to end. Maybe it was a sadistic ritual, but I had made him a promise and it was one I intended to keep.
His life was not in vain. He would not be forgotten. As sad as the ritual might have been, I had no intention of letting go of it. It was for me and in honor of the man that would never let me forget that at one time I was one romantic madly in love with another.
I replayed our short time together, right down to the very last time he spoke to me.
“One week, Mr. Foster. Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind?”
“One week and forever, baby. I promise.”
