Love, Lattes and Mutants

by Sandra Cox

  “That old quack,” he scoffs. “He’d like nothing better than to poke and prod me. Probably draw more blood than a vampire.”

  “Please.” I hold his arm.

  He sighs and caves. “If it will make you feel better. I’ll make an appointment tomorrow.”

  “Don’t forget.”

  “You won’t let me. Goodnight now.”

  “Goodnight, Gramps.” I give him one more searching look, kiss his cheek, and head to my room.

  Screw homework. Fatigue drags at me. I tumble into bed and fall immediately asleep.

  Birds chirping wake me the next morning. A good thing, too, I’ve got a quiz in Soc. I hop out of bed, throw on clothes, and crack open my book. I skim the information. I’m good to go.

  Gramps is sitting at the table, his hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. “Hi, honey.” He looks exhausted.

  “Hi, Gramps.” I walk over and kiss his stubbly cheek.

  “I’ve been lazy this morning. Think you can make do with cold cereals?”

  Warning bells go off. Gramps is never lazy. “Not a problem, I just want coffee anyway. I need to get to school early to study.”

  “You should eat something.”

  “I think I’ll treat myself to an Egg McMuffin.”

  He nods. “That works.”

  “You’re going to call the doctor, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.” He sips his coffee and sets it down.

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “Call me if you need anything.”

  “Of course.”

  “Have a good day.” I take a gulp of the steaming beverage and head toward the door. I stop in the doorway and look back. He gives me a reassuring smile.

  I wave my fingers at him and head out the door.

  It’s only after I’m at school I realize I forgot my GPS watch. I know Gramps got it for me but he said he could use it, too.

  “He has his phone,” I assure myself.

  “Talking to yourself now, Dunn?” Fahrenbacher slows his step to mine as I hurry down the hall.

  “What’s it to you?” I snap. I’m not in the mood to take any crap from Edgar the Asshole today.

  “Feisty. My kind of woman.” He steps closer, invading my space.

  “Don’t you have some flies you need to pull wings off of?” I retort and pick up my pace.

  “Hmm, while that sounds entertaining, I’d rather spend my time with you.”

  “Rather torment me is what you’re saying.”

  “Actually, that’s no longer as appealing as other things I could do with you.”

  I stop and stare at him. “Are you insane?”

  “I saw Tyler plant a hot and heavy one on you last night. From where I was at it looked like he used plenty of tongue. There must be something hidden beneath that mousy exterior and I plan on finding out what it is.” He smirks.

  Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I continue determinedly forward. He paces at my side.

  “Of course, you don’t.” He smiles knowingly.

  “I liked you better when you were just rude and mean. And I didn’t like you at all then.”

  “A challenge. I enjoy a challenge.”

  I shake my head. This is too bizarre. There’s no way my stars are aligned.

  Chapter 22

  “Hey, Piper.” Holly hurries up behind me. I blink. Rick Sabatini is loping at her side. I want to bang my head against the wall and howl. A quick glance assures me his attention is all for Holly.

  “Edgar.” She slides smoothly between us. I have to move to the side since Sabatini is adhered to her like glue.

  “How are you, Holly?” he responds.

  Several disgusted looks are thrown in our direction. We’re taking up most of the hallway but no one wants to anger Fahrenbacher or get on the bad side of the new girl.

  Holly turns to me. “Better pick up the pace. Class starts in four minutes.”

  Edgar looks directly at me. “I’ll be seeing you,” he says before he lopes off towards his class.

  “Oh joy,” I mutter to his back.

  “What was that about?” Holly asks.

  “He’s decided on a new method of torture for me. Instead of beating me up, he wants to”—I search for the right word: Seduce? Rape? Who knows. I settle on—“get to know me better.”

  She raises her eyebrows. “Won’t Tyler love that?”

  We hurry into the classroom and sit in two available seats next to each other. Sabatini sighs and wanders to the front of the classroom where seats are always available.

  I look around, spot Tyler, and smile. He gives me a cool nod.

  I sigh. What now? Relationships are so complicated. I turn my attention to Miss Sweeney who today is talking about Romeo and Juliet. Not one of my favorite couples. It’s not that I don’t appreciate a romantic gesture as much as the next person, but to kill yourself because your significant other’s dead? What’s the sense in that?

  I occasionally glance at Tyler, but he never makes eye contact. Something is up. When the class ends and he turns to chat with the redhead next to him, I get seriously concerned. I follow Holly out. He makes no attempt to catch up.

  I’m starting to get pissed. I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve this. Maybe he’s taking me for a ride after all. Surely it’s not because I won’t tell him my secret.

  Well, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. I make no further effort to see my supposed boyfriend. If this is what a relationship is, I’m not sure I want it. I fight the pain underneath the anger. My heart doesn’t really hurt. That would be totally silly. I just have indigestion.

  Several times, I feel him stealing glances at me. I ignore him as completely as he did me.

  When the last bell rings, I head out. Tyler is standing at the door, kids streaming by him. As I start to walk by him, he falls into step beside me.

  “Hey.”

  I ignore him.

  He takes my arm and tugs me out of the way of the kids hurrying out. We stop on the edge of the sidewalk.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “Fine.” I snap.

  “Are you upset?”

  “No, but you obviously are. And I have no idea why.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “No. I don’t.”

  “It’s pretty evident this relationship doesn’t mean as much to you as it does to me.”

  “That’s so not true.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  We stare at each other.

  “No,” I respond hotly, my nails clenched into my fist.

  “You’re like some mystery woman. You hide the fact you’re beautiful. You even change your voice. What’s going on? You always hold a part of yourself back. I don’t know who you are. A relationship demands trust.”

  I go cold inside. It’s come to this. “I shouldn’t have to. If you—” I can’t bring myself to use the L word. It’s not something Gramps and I ever say, we just know it. “If you care about me like you say you do, it wouldn’t be necessary. You’d trust me and it would be enough. Apparently, my definition of caring is different from yours.” I turn and walk stiffly away, my bones brittle as if they could snap on me if I move too hastily.

  I feel the weight of his hot gaze but keep moving. It’s over.

  “Piper,” he calls. I keep going. I was a fool to ever let myself get into a relationship. I’m going to fall apart and I want to be home when I do it. I want to get to Gramps.

  I make it to my truck and climb into the seat. Hunched over the steering wheel, I grip it, biting my lips together. “I will not cry. I will not cry.” I keep repeating the mantra, anxious to get to my grandparent. He’ll offer some words of wisdom, put everything in perspective and even if I still hurt like hell, I’ll feel better than I do now. And there are my dolphins to think about. Who’ll protect them if I fall apart?

&nb
sp; I jack up the volume of the radio, hoping to drown the pain. My head misses the ceiling as I turn onto the dirt lane and hit the pothole no one has bothered to fix. “Almost there, almost there.” My lips mutter the words in time to the music.

  Finally, I’m home. I jump out of the truck, slam the door, and run to the house. “Gramps.” My voice cracks. I stop and take a deep breath. No point in letting him know how upset I am. “Gramps.” My voice still sounds a little crackly. I give a little cough and try again. “Gramps.”

  There’s no answer. I’m starting to get a little freaked. His truck is outside. Maybe he’s in the back. I look outside, no Gramps. Now, I’m seriously worried. I head to the living room; there’s no sign of him. My pulse rate picks up and my heart starts to beat hard. “Gramps.”

  I run to the kitchen. “Gramps.” There’s a pot of water sitting on the stove, boiling. Pasta sits next to it. I turn it off.

  Maybe he’s just in the bathroom. I rush to the tiny bathroom and knock on the door. “Gramps?”

  No answer here either. I feel lightheaded.

  I race to his bedroom and screech to a halt in the doorway. “Gramps!” I scream.

  Chapter 23

  He lies crumpled on the floor. The bed shadows him from the rays of sun coming through the window. Above his head, his distress watch dangles from the nightstand.

  My fingers tremble so badly, I can barely dial 9-1-1. The dispatcher answers.

  “Please come quick. I think my grandfather’s had a heart attack. Please hurry.”

  “What’s your name and your address?”

  “This is Piper Dunn. I’m at Four Twenty-five Cliffside. Please hurry.” I click off and squat down beside Gramps. “Gramps, can you hear me?”

  No answer. His eyes remain closed. He’s lying on his stomach, his legs and arms sprawled, his head turned to the side. I bend down and stick my finger under his nose. I feel a trickle of warm air.

  Thank God. At least he’s alive. I push him over on his back. Even though he doesn’t have an ounce of fat on him, he’s dead weight. The dead word freaks me. I pinch his finger. It goes white before the blood rushes back to the surface. “Good. Breath and pulse. Hang in there, Gramps.” I tilt his head back to give him maximum airflow through his trachea.

  I move to his right side so I can watch the rise and fall of his chest, ready to do mouth-to-mouth if necessary. Sirens blare in the distance. Several heartbeats later, I hear a pounding on the door. “In here,” I cry.

  A tall woman and a thin balding man rush through the door, both wearing blue uniforms. They put oxygen on Gramps before they load him into the ambulance. I follow close behind in Beulah as we rush down the lane and onto the highway, their sirens blaring. The drive seems an eternity, but in reality we make good time.

  They wheel Gramps into the emergency room. I’m left to fill out paperwork. From there they usher me to the waiting room where I drink several cups of bad-tasting coffee. The cool air chills my skin, adding to my discomfort. I shudder. Why are hospitals always so cold?

  I look up from my contemplation of the design on the green and tan carpet to see Holly and Tyler rush in.

  I carefully set the half-empty paper cup on the end table and push to my feet. Holly reaches me first. She grabs me and hugs me. “We just heard.”

  I look at Tyler over her head. He gives me a smile of so much love and compassion it confuses me. He wasn’t speaking to me, we broke up and now when I need him…he’s here. When Holly lets me go, he steps forward. I go rigid. He ignores it and puts his arms around me, drawing me close. “I’m so sorry, baby. So sorry.”

  “What exactly are you sorry for?” I ask stiffly.

  “Everything,” he whispers.

  I’m not sure what everything encompasses, but I think he may be referring to this afternoon. “I can’t think of anything but Gramps right now,” I mumble against his chest.

  “Of course.” His hands move up and massage my tight shoulders.

  “I’m scared,” I whisper.

  “He’s going to be fine.”

  “You can’t know that.” I pull away from him.

  “Your grandpa is a fighter. He’s not going to let this beat him.”

  For a moment the thought bolsters me, before guilt I’ve held at bay floods my system. “I knew something was wrong. His color was bad and he was tired. I should have taken him to the doctor right away.”

  Holly grabs my hand and pulls me down to the industrial green settee in the waiting room. “Don’t do this to yourself, Piper. This isn’t your fault.”

  “Yes, it is,” I insist. “I told him to call the doctor. I should have taken him myself.” I pull my hands away and wring them.

  Tyler moves in front of me, tugs me to my feet, and envelops me in his arms. I stand stiffly. But his lips against my hair and the softly whispered, “You aren’t alone,” is my undoing. I rest my head against his chest, taking in the comforting scents of soap, sun, and pine. Nothing has changed, but for the moment, I’ll take the solace he offers. I take deep, shuddering breaths then force myself to step back.

  He shifts his hands to my shoulders. “What can I do for you, Pip?”

  Gramps’ pet name for me. I shake my head and start to move away. His hands tighten just enough to hold me in place. “About this afternoon. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me? I was way out of line.”

  “I can’t deal with this now.”

  “Of course, I understand. Just so you know that I’m here for you.”

  I nod, distracted. Doc Johnson steps into the waiting room. He is stooped with thinning white hair, his jacket rumpled. I rush toward him. “How is he?”

  “He was lucky. He was hooked up to an electrocardiogram machine in the ambulance that was able to diagnose the severity of the attack. The paramedics phoned ahead to advise us of the situation.”

  “What was the severity?” I interrupt.

  “No attack is good at his age, but as things go, it could have been a lot worse. In fact, I’ve moved him out of ICU.”

  “The electrocardiogram shows a small blockage that I think we can break down with drugs.”

  “But he passed out.”

  “He was dizzy and hit his head on the nightstand, knocked himself out.”

  “He’s awake?”

  Doc nods.

  My muscles sag with relief.

  “Knocking himself out might have been the best thing that happened to him. Allowed us to find that clot. Has your grandpa been under stress lately?”

  Why would he be under stress just because he lives with a mutant? Guilt hits me hard. My shoulders slump. “He worries about me.”

  Doc gives me a pat on the shoulder. “Every parent or grandparent worries about their children. That’s just part of the life cycle. Has he been working harder than usual, taking out extra tourist tours?”

  I shake my head.

  “I want him to take it easy, get plenty of rest. I’m going to give him nitrate tablets, but he’s going to be okay. I want to keep him in the hospital for a couple of days to keep an eye on him.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m going to put him on a daily aspirin. His blood pressure is a bit high. We’ll put him on meds for that, too.”

  Poor Gramps, he hates meds. But he’s going to take them. I’ll make sure of that.

  “I also want you to limit his cholesterol and fats and increase his fruits, vegetables, and whole grains.”

  “I’ll take care of that.”

  “I know you will, honey.” He pats me on the shoulder again. “Do you want to see him now?”

  I nod eagerly. He escorts me to Gramps’ room and leaves. I look down at the bed and a lump forms in my throat. Gramps is hooked to a heart monitor. Oxygen tubes run from his nose. An IV is stuck into his hand. He looks so frail.

  I lean over and kiss his stubbly cheek. His eyes flutter open. I force my lips up. “Hi.”

  “Hi, honey.” His voic
e is weak and raspy. “I hit my head. I’m losing my coordination in my old age.”

  I smile and carefully pick up his hand. “Did Doc tell you he found a small clot?”

  “That old man overreacts,” he grumbles, picking at his sheet with his free hand. “When can I get out of here?”

  “Two days.”

  “Two days? I’m not staying here two days.”

  “Yes, you are. And when you get home, you are going to take it easy. And you’re going to take the medication he’s prescribed and follow the diet he recommends.”

  “Pip,” he begins.

  I cut him off. “Gramps, I can’t lose you. You’re all I have.” I make a supreme effort. But tears leak out my eyes and fall on Gramps’ hand.

  “Don’t cry, honey.” His voice is gruff. “I’ll do whatever you say. Don’t worry. I plan on being around a good long time.”

  I sniff and wipe my eyes.

  His head falls deeper into the pillow and his hand clasping mine goes slack.

  “Get some rest, Gramps. I’ll be right here.”

  “There’s no need for you to stay. Go home. Do your homework, get some rest. Just do me a favor and don’t go out in the ocean tonight, okay?”

  Panic surges through my system. My dolphins. The research vessel. “Gramps...”

  “Don’t go out tonight, Pip. And go home. You need your rest.” He tweaks at the sheet restlessly. His head shifts back and forth.

  My head begins to pound. Everything is wrong. I need to check on the dolphins, but I won’t lie to Gramps and I don’t dare upset him. His state is so fragile. I want to stay but that would upset him, too. “Sure.” I force a smile.

  “Tyler can keep you company, but tell him to behave.”

  “Okay, Gramps.” I see no point in telling him Tyler and I have broken up. I kiss him on the forehead. His skin feels frail and papery. “See you tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow.” His eyes flutter shut.

  When I step out, Tyler and Holly are waiting for me. “How is he?” Holly asks.

  “He’s going to be fine. He’s just tired.”

  “Why don’t you stay with us tonight?” Holly pushes her hair away from her face.