Britches Get Stitches

by Elicia Hyder

  I skated back to my banner girls in the line. They were all waving and smiling. Even Hellissa. I tugged on her sleeve. “Did you see those two girls I was hugging?”

  She nodded.

  I gave her two of the junior-derby stickers. “Take them these?”

  “You got it.” She ran over and gave them the stickers. It might as well have been hundred-dollar bills.

  When Hellissa returned, I put my arm around her and squeezed her shoulders. “Thanks. You just made their day. They want to play junior derby just like you.”

  She smiled proudly; I knew the feeling.

  “Hey, can we get a picture?” I asked her.

  “Yeah!”

  I pulled out my phone and snapped a selfie of the two of us. Then I took a picture with the whole juniors’ team behind us. Maybe helping out as a coach wouldn’t be so terrible. I should send this picture to Jason, I thought. That was when I remembered the missed call and message, which had been cleared from my home screen.

  I pulled up his chat window. There were no missed messages from him. My heart deflated a little. That was when I saw a message from Kiara.

  You’re in the parade, so you probably won’t get this for a while. Just thought you should know, Sylvia collapsed in the store. Ambulance is taking her to Baptist Hospital. Doesn’t look good.

  Fourteen

  Why the hell do parades move so slow?

  I was desperate to get out of there after Kiara’s message, but the parade didn’t end for eight more blocks. Forcing myself to not think about it, I stuffed the phone back into my pocket without responding. It buzzed four more times before we reached Eighth Avenue.

  Near the route’s end, I spotted a group of Nashville police officers. Jason was waving near the center. Immediately, visions of the night before flashed through my mind. My cheeks flushed with heat.

  He came over to join us when we reached the end of the parade. “I tried to text you, but I guess you don’t have your phone.”

  “Yeah, have to set a good example for the girls. No texting while skating.”

  I wondered if he would greet me with a kiss. He didn’t. Determined to not read too much into that, I pulled Monica over to us. “Monica, you remember Jason, don’t you?”

  “Yes! It’s great to see you again.” All smiles, she was clearly still riding the high of the parade.

  “You too, Monica. You guys looked great out there,” he said, shaking her hand.

  “Thank you!” She spun on her wheels to the left. “My family’s here! Gotta roll. Grace, do you need a ride home?”

  Umm…did I?

  Thankfully, Jason jumped in and saved me from a potentially awkward conversation. “I heard you were here without a car,” he said with a wink. “I was hoping to give you a ride.”

  I smiled at Monica. “I’m all taken care of.”

  “See you tomorrow at the park?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Nice to see you, Jason. Bye!” she called, skating over to meet Derek and the girls on the sidewalk.

  When I turned back toward him, Jason stepped forward and put his hands on my hips. “You really did look great out there. My buddies all agree.”

  I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. “Telling your friends about me already, huh?”

  “You bet I am.” Then he kissed me, for all of downtown Nashville to see. “You ready to go?”

  “Let me check with the coach of the juniors’ team and see if she needs anything else from me before we go. I also need to tell you something.” I held up a finger. “Be right back.”

  Jackie was gathering all the junior girls together. I skated over to her. “Hey, Jackie. Are we all done or do you still need me?”

  “No, we’re all done. Thank you so much, Britches. You were a natural out there with them today.”

  I smiled. “It was fun.” A few of the girls, including Hellissa, were watching me. I waved. She waved back.

  Then her mother walked up and hugged her. The little girl wearing my dress was right behind her. I wanted to say something. To ask. But how would I do that without sounding like a lunatic? Especially now that Sylvia was in the hospital.

  A hand came to rest on my side. “Everything OK?” Jason asked.

  “You see that girl over there in the blue dress with all the ruffles?”

  “Yeah.”

  I turned toward him. “Do you remember that dress I was making for Sylvia? You know, the crazy dog lady from my store who can’t park.”

  He smiled. “I will never forget her. Is that the dress?”

  “That’s the dress.”

  His eyes widened like he was waiting for me to deliver a punchline. “And…?”

  “She said the dress was for her granddaughter, but I don’t think that’s her granddaughter.”

  “So? Maybe she decided to give it to someone else.”

  “Possibly. It’s just when I gave it to her, she acted like she hated it. Then today, I see the dress on another kid. I’m having a hard time processing what that means.”

  Jason looked like he was having a hard time processing why it mattered so much to me. “Why don’t you ask her where she got the dress?”

  “No. I need to ask Sylvia. Or maybe Zoey.”

  I pulled my phone from my pocket. There was a now-pointless text from Jason telling me he was waiting near the end of the parade route, and he wanted to know if I needed a ride home. The other messages were from Kiara.

  Sylvia’s driver called from the hospital.

  The doctors think she needs a blood transfusion. He will call again when he knows more.

  They admitted her and moved her to ICU. She’s still unconscious.

  I have Miss Taylor here. They are supposed to be sending someone to get her soon.

  “What’s the matter, Grace?” Jason asked.

  “Sylvia collapsed in my store, and they’ve admitted her at Baptist Hospital.”

  “Because of the dress?” He asked, very confused.

  “No, but I can see how you would think that. Sorry, my brain feels a little scattered right now. Can you give me a ride to the hospital?”

  “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Are you ready now?”

  “I am, but I need to tell Lucy I’m leaving without getting my stuff.” Thankfully, I’d had the good sense to stick my shoes in my backpack before the parade. The rest of my gear was still in the back of West’s truck. I looked around for them, but didn’t see them anywhere. “I’ll text her. Let’s go.”

  Jason had parked in a lot close by that was reserved for the Metro police officers. We were able to get to his truck quickly once I’d switched my skates for sneakers. He opened the passenger-side door for me, and when I stepped forward to climb inside, he grabbed my hand to stop me.

  “I missed you when you left this morning,” he said, inches from my face.

  With a flirty smile, I ran the zipper on his jacket down and then back up. “You were sound asleep when I left this morning.”

  “But I was absolutely heartbroken when I woke up alone. Last night was amazing.” His voice became low and rough. “Like, mind-blowing amazing.”

  Gooseflesh rippled my skin. “I can’t even think about it without feeling a little dizzy.”

  He took that as his cue to kiss me again, long and hard, his tongue gently probing my mouth, reminding me of all the wonders of the night before. God, that man’s mouth could work magic. His hands slid around to my ass and pull my hips against his.

  “Ma’am, is this gentleman harassing you?” The booming voice made us both jump.

  Jason swore. Then laughed. “Stiles, you piece of shit, you scared me to death.”

  “Don’t you know better than to make out in a parking lot around a bunch of police cruisers?” the guy asked.

  “We were just leaving, thank you very much.” Jason looked at me. “Let’s go.”

  I got into the truck and watched him walk around the front. Other officers were walking back to their cars aroun
d us. Jason got in and buckled his seatbelt. “Sorry about that.”

  “I thought it was funny.”

  “I’ll certainly catch hell about it later. Where are we headed?” he asked as he put the truck into reverse.

  “Baptist Hospital.”

  The hospital was only about a mile and a half away, but with the traffic it would still take at least fifteen minutes. Across the bench seat, he held my hand. “You must be exhausted,” he said.

  “I am. I plan on passing out just as soon as I know what’s going on with Sylvia.”

  “Would you be interested in passing out at my place?”

  I smiled. “As long as we don’t do what we did last night. I don’t think I’d ever be able to look at your mother again.”

  “Mom’s pretty forgiving, and she really likes you.”

  “She doesn’t even know me.”

  His head tilted to the side. “She knows more about you than you think.”

  I looked over at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Let’s just say she’s heard a lot about you. Especially lately.”

  I squeezed his fingers.

  There were nothing but red taillights up ahead of us. Jason relaxed back in his seat. “Can I talk to you about something?”

  That sounded ominous. “Of course.”

  “You know I’m a package deal, right?”

  “You and your mom.”

  He nodded.

  “It’s one of the things I really like about you. Your devotion to her, the way you take care of her. I wouldn’t want that to change just because I’m in the picture.”

  “That’s good because it won’t ever change. I’ll never put her in a home. I’ll never send her to live with anyone else. If we’re going to do this, that needs to be clear from the very beginning.”

  His tone made it pretty clear that he’d had an issue with this very thing in the past. I appreciated his transparency about it. It would be nice if all men were that open and honest. Clay, for example. It would’ve been very nice to know that he planned to have babies with other people while we were married.

  “Do what exactly?” I asked.

  He grinned over at me. “A man doesn’t sleep with his best friend’s ex-wife lightly.”

  “Jason Bradley, I’d like to remind you, there was zero sleep involved.”

  He leaned across the cab and pulled me in for another kiss. “And I can’t wait to not sleep with you again.”

  “Since we’re talking deal-breakers, can I bring up another uncomfortable conversation?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  “How much did Clay tell you about our infertility stuff?”

  “I think I’ve gotten the general gist of it. I don’t think he ever told me what the reason was though.”

  “Nobody knows. It says so right in our diagnosis: ‘unexplained infertility.’” I used air quotes. “The doctors say there is an explanation out there somewhere, but modern medicine hasn’t found it yet.” I stared at the road ahead. “The problem was obviously not on Clay’s end.”

  “I’m really sorry, Grace.”

  I nodded. “I just need you to know, I don’t ever want to go through that again. Every month, praying and hoping, just to be crushed over and over. If it happens, great, but I’m done trying and winding up devastated.”

  “I figured as much.” He gave my fingers a reassuring squeeze. “And, for the record, it isn’t a deal breaker for me.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  When we finally reached the hospital, Jason parked in the parking garage and held my hand as we walked inside and navigated the halls to the intensive care unit. He followed me up to the information desk. The woman behind the computer looked up at me. “May I help you?”

  “I’m looking for a friend of mine. Sylvia Sinclair. She was brought in by ambulance.”

  “Are you a family member?” the woman asked.

  “No. Just a friend.”

  The woman’s face softened. “I’m sorry. I can only give information to a family member.”

  “Excuse me,” a man said behind us.

  Jason and I both turned.

  The man was dressed in a flawlessly tailored suit made of luxurious fabric. “Did I hear you ask about Sylvia Sinclair?”

  “I did.”

  “I’m her son.” He stretched out his hand. “Benjamin Sinclair-Hoyt. You can call me Ben.”

  I should have guessed by his suit that he was her relative. The fabric screamed of the Sinclair dynasty.

  “Grace Evans. She’s a regular in my store. The store where she…” I swallowed.

  “Collapsed?”

  I nodded. “My assistant called me when it happened. I came here as soon as I could. How is she?”

  He sighed heavily. “They are doing tests now, but given her recent history, they’re sure it’s a complication from the leukemia.”

  I put my hands over my heart. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do? Do you need someone to keep Miss Taylor? She hates me, but I’d be happy to take care of her.”

  “Miss Taylor hates everyone. She’s with the house staff now, I think. But if we need any help, I’ll let you know. You’ve been a good friend to my mom. She speaks very highly of you.”

  My lower jaw dropped just enough for him to notice.

  “Does that surprise you?” he asked with a chuckle.

  Surprise me? Jason showing up at my apartment had surprised me. The news that Sylvia Sinclair spoke highly of me was right up there on the surprise scale with the ending of the Sixth Sense and Project Runway’s move from New York to LA.

  “To be honest, I thought she hated me.”

  Her son smiled. “Only those who are most loved by her do.”

  “May I ask you a personal question?” I asked.

  “I guess.”

  “Is Alexandria your daughter?”

  His posture suddenly stiffened. “Lexi?”

  “Maybe. I guess.” I was nervously spinning the ring on my middle finger. “Sylvia has commissioned me to make a lot of gowns for her granddaughter.”

  Ben ran a hand down his face, pulling his mouth open in a look of shock. “I had no idea.”

  I wanted to ask, “Seriously?” but Ben was clearly having a moment.

  He looked up at the ceiling, and when his gaze turned back to me, his eyes were wet with tears. “My daughter’s name was Lexi, but my mother hated the name and always insisted on calling her Alexandria. Even Lexi’s Christmas gifts were always signed to Alexandria.”

  I didn’t miss that he used the words was and were.

  “Lexi was killed in a car accident six years ago. My mother was driving when they were hit head on by a drunk driver.”

  I felt Jason’s hand at the small of my back.

  “You didn’t know?” Ben asked.

  I shook my head. “She never told me anything.”

  “That’s why my mother walks with a limp. And why she wears those ridiculous shoes all the time. Her ankles were crushed in the impact, and when they healed, they healed at an angle. High-heeled shoes are easier for her to walk in.”

  Tears brimmed my eyes. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  He bowed his head slightly but didn’t respond.

  “I think I remember that accident,” Jason said. “I’m a Metro police officer. Was it near the West End off-ramp on I-440?”

  “It was,” Ben said.

  The door behind us opened, and Sylvia’s assistant, Andrew, walked into the waiting room. “Ben, you made it,” he said.

  The two men greeted each other with a hug and talked for a moment in hushed tones. When they finished, Ben turned back toward us. “Grace, this is my brother, Andrew.”

  Brother? I’d assumed by Sylvia’s cool interactions with him that he was an employee. Maybe I wasn’t so surprised that Sylvia liked me after all.

  Andrew came forward and shook my hand. “Hello again. I remember you from your store.”
<
br />   “How is she?” I asked.

  “One of the nurses told me that she semi-regained consciousness during the CT scan, so that’s good.”

  “That’s very good,” I agreed.

  Ben looked at his brother. “Did you know Mom was having dresses made for Lexi?”

  Andrew glanced at the floor. “I just found out recently. She’s been donating them to children in need.”

  My heart nearly melted into a puddle on the floor.

  Ben reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. He opened it and pulled out a small photograph of a little girl, maybe seven or eight years old, wearing a periwinkle blue dress with ruffles.

  Tears spilled down my cheeks. “That’s why she behaved so strangely when I presented her with the dress. It looked a lot like this one.”

  Andrew looked over my shoulder at the photo. “Oh yes, it did. The dress you made, she donated to a family at —”

  “Hope Haven,” I finished for him. “I saw a little girl wearing it today in the Nashville Christmas Parade.” I quickly swiped the tears from my face and cleared my throat. “Ben, Andrew, I won’t hold you up any longer. Please keep me updated on your mother’s progress. You know how to get in touch with me.”

  They both nodded, thanked me for coming, and promised to update me with her condition. Then Jason and I said our goodbyes and walked out of the waiting room. Once we were safely in the hallway, I fell into his arms and cried.

  Sunday morning, I woke up in Jason Bradley’s bed. Convincing me to stay the night hadn’t been difficult. Between the exhaustion, both mental and physical, he’d been very persuasive. I was downright sore the next day.

  Thank God Jason had told me it was raining outside when I woke up to my alarm a couple of hours earlier. There was no way on earth I could’ve skated the park with Monica.

  The shower was running in the bathroom. When I finally pulled myself from the delicious sateen sheets, I decided to join him. First, I’d have to get my legs to work. They strained standing up from the bed.

  Putting on his discarded T-shirt from the floor, I walked into the bathroom. For a moment, I stood there silently and watched him from behind as he lathered his hair. “Knock, knock,” I finally said.