“I think I have food poisoning,” she says, flushing the toilet again.
I’m hesitant to go in, knowing that she wants some privacy, but I also want to make sure she’s okay.
“Can I get you anything?”
“A new stomach,” she answers. I’d chuckle if I didn’t feel so bad. Even when she’s sick, she keeps her snark at the helm, prepared to use it at any time. That’s when I remember I have Pepto Bismol in the kitchen. Hopefully that and a glass of tea will help settle her stomach.
When I return to the bedroom, tea and medicine in hand, I find her back in bed and already falling asleep. I set the medicine and tea on the nightstand closest to her side of the bed and slide in behind her. I press a gentle hand to her forehead to see if she has a fever, but she feels fine. Hopefully, whatever she ate has passed and we can still have our weekend away.
* * *
Gracie moans when she finally wakes around seven thirty. I’ve been up and sorting through clothes I’m going to have shipped to New York.
“Morning.” I walk over to the bed and sit down next to her. She reaches for my hand and I gently massage her palm while she wakes up.
“Morning,” she musters out and rolls to her side.
“Feeling any better?”
She groans again, but then makes a cooing sound as I hit that pressure point between her thumb and forefinger. “Not really. I shouldn’t have eaten that fish on the plane. I thought it smelled funny.” She grumbles and rolls onto her back.
“Let me draw you a bath.” I lay her hand on top of her stomach. “Soaking in some warm water might help, oh, and there’s some Pepto Bismol.” I point to the bottle of pink medicine on the nightstand.
While I get her bath ready, Grace must have rewarmed her tea. She’s carrying the mug and the bottle of Pepto into the bathroom in all her naked gloriousness. Sighing, I reach for both items while she slides into the tub and moans in pleasure as the hot water covers her.
“Relax,” I tell her. “I’m just going to get a few more things together to have shipped to New York. Hopefully, this makes you feel better, because I have one more surprise for you this weekend.”
She offers me a tired smile and nods her head. I know she’s not feeling well when she doesn’t argue with me about another surprise. “Thank you for taking care of me,” she says, her voice weak.
“Always.” And I mean that. I’ll always take care of her if she’ll let me.
* * *
Gracie perked up after her bath. I can tell she’s not one hundred percent, but Tylenol, some Pepto Bismol, and ginger tea seemed to bring some life back into her. She said she’s still nauseous and her body aches, but she’s powering through, and for that I’m grateful.
Early this morning, I sent a text message to my mom to tell her I was coming for the night and bringing someone. This prompted nearly one thousand additional text messages wanting all the details. Being the horrible son that I am, I didn’t respond to a single one. She can wait and form her own opinion of Grace in person, just like everyone else.
Tiffany also had my car cleaned and filled with gas, so it’s all ready and waiting for us in the parking garage.
With a tea for the road, and everything we need for the night, Gracie and I begin our hour trek north to Napa.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks.
“Another surprise.” I wink at her and she groans. “But we’re going over the Golden Gate Bridge first.”
This changes her mood. She smiles and stares out the window into the foggy San Francisco morning. The fog will break in the next fifteen minutes or so, but I’m glad she gets to experience what we get nearly every morning in the city.
She’s in awe of the bridge and closes her eyes for most of the remainder of the trip. I’m hoping the short nap will help her feel better so she can enjoy Napa. The drive is painless, which isn’t always the case. Traffic out of San Francisco is almost always as bad as traffic in New York City.
I pull into the long drive that leads up to the house I grew up in. The house sits on five acres and is surrounded by vineyards. Vineyards we don’t own, but the five acres our house sits on is nothing short of amazing. There’s a creek that runs through the property behind the house and oak trees line the perimeter. It’s like a mini forest behind the house and it was everything Aaron and I loved growing up as kids.
We hid in those trees, played in the creek, and helped my mom work in her huge garden. The house, while familiar, has changed dramatically. After my dad died, my mom renovated the house from top to bottom, both inside and out. Now it looks more like a massive modern farmhouse than the two-story Craftsman style home we grew up in, but as I’ve learned, change is good. My mom loves the house, and as long as she’s happy, I’m happy.
“We’re here,” I gently wake Gracie and she startles.
“Oh, my gosh, I was so tired!” She stretches and notices the house we’re parked in front of. “Where are we?” She looks at me and back to the house.
I smile nostalgically. “This is where I grew up.”
Her eyes widen as she takes in the massive house in front of us. “Holy crap.” Reaching for the door handle, she steps out of the car. I meet her on her side just as I hear footsteps.
“Oh, my god!” I hear my mother’s voice before I see her lunging down the stairs and right toward me. “Andrew!” she says, wrapping me into a tight hug.
“Hi, Mom.” I kiss her cheek. “I want to introduce you to Grace. Grace Morgan.” My mom unwraps herself from me and bounces over to Gracie, pulling her into an equally obnoxiously tight hug. She looks at me over Gracie’s shoulder and gives me a surprised look. I haven’t brought anyone home since Melissa.
Gracie smiles and hugs her back. “So nice to meet you, Mrs. McPherson.”
“Stop that.” My mom swats at her playfully. “Rose. You call me Rose, honey.”
And that is my mother. Rose McPherson. Over the top, but the most loving person I’ve ever met. She is exactly what Aaron and I needed in the absence of our father. Someone to smother us with hugs and kisses. Someone who was always in our business and front and center at every game, at every school play, and the only person who was a constant in our lives.
“You’re acting like you haven’t seen me in years,” I chide her.
She smiles. “When you’re as old as I am, weeks feel like years,” she says, brushing me off.
“You’re only fifty-nine, Mom.”
Gracie laughs at this. My mom acts like she’s eighty, but she plays tennis four days a week, still manages her garden on her own, volunteers at the hospital, and still hosts a girls’ dinner twice a month. She’s hardly immobile or ready to die.
Mom laces Gracie’s arm through hers while I unload the luggage and she steers them up the front steps of the house, pointing out things along the way. I knew my mom would love Gracie the moment she met her, just like I did, and I’m also sure I’ve lost my girlfriend to my mom for the next hour.
I was right. My mom has given Gracie the grand tour and even put her in the ATV and took her out to the edge of the property to show her the creek. Gracie comes back with a huge grin on her face, her cheeks pink, and her hair windblown. Even sick and windblown, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
“I can’t believe you grew up here,” she says with a hint of envy as she steps down off the ATV. I’ve been sitting on the back terrace with a glass of wine, waiting for the ladies to come back after putting our luggage in my old room, which is now a guest room. My mom sits in the chair to my left and Gracie picks the chair to my right.
“It was definitely a fun place to grow up,” I tell her, remembering all of the fun Aaron I had hiding in the woods and playing in the creek.
“I’m so glad there wasn’t all those electronics when you were kids,” my mom says, glancing at my phone.
I shake my head at her. “We had video games, Mom. Aaron and I just spent more time outside.”
She nods but doesn’t
say anything at the mention of Aaron’s name, so I decide it’s time to fill her in.
I pour her and Gracie a glass of wine as I start. “Speaking of Aaron…” I slide each of them a glass of crisp, white Pinot Grigio, Gracie’s favorite. Thankfully, one of the things my mom added to the house when she renovated was a wine cellar. She has every wine known to man in there and close to a hundred bottles of Pinot Grigio. “Aaron and I have been talking.”
My mom chokes on a sip of wine and coughs loudly. “What did you say?” she asks, as if she misheard me.
I inhale and sigh out the exhale. “Aaron and I are finally speaking. We’re working through our shit.”
“Don’t curse,” she admonishes me, as if the word shit is more important than the fact her two sons who’ve barely looked at each other in the last five years are finally speaking. I laugh and she takes another drink of wine. “How? Tell me everything.”
Gracie sips her wine and smiles as I tell my mom about our recent conversations. She knew about me purchasing Williams Global, but she had no idea Aaron showed up in New York City unannounced. I give her the high-level overview of everything that’s happened these last few weeks and she sits stunned, speechless, and a little teary-eyed.
“I don’t even know what to say,” she says quietly. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you two come back together.” Her chin quivers and I reach for her hand.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life is too short to hold on to anger.” I squeeze my mom’s hand and she squeezes mine back. Gracie looks relaxed in her chair as she watches us, a small smile pulling at her lips. My life has really come full circle in just a few short weeks. Meeting Gracie and reconciling with Aaron were two things I didn’t expect, but I couldn’t be more content than I am right now.
* * *
Late afternoon, I find Gracie and my mom all wrapped in blankets on the large sectional in our family room. The weather has turned colder and rainy and my mom started a fire in the fireplace. I’d planned to take Gracie to a local vineyard for a wine-tasting and dinner, but I can see she’s still not feeling great.
“How are you feeling?” I sit down next to her on the couch and she rests her head on my shoulder.
“Getting better, but my body is still achy.”
“Maybe you have the flu,” my mom chimes in. “I’ve heard it’s already hitting people this year. Make sure when you get back to New York, both of you get your flu shots,” she orders. She wouldn’t be my mom if she wasn’t still telling me what to do.
Gracie chuckles and pulls the blanket over my legs. “I’ve never had a flu shot,” she admits.
My mom audibly gasps. “Don’t tell me that!”
Now Gracie and I are both laughing. You’d have thought Gracie just admitted to killing puppies as a hobby.
“She’s a germaphobe,” I tell Gracie.
My mom narrows her eyes at me. “I’m not a germaphobe, Andrew. I just believe if there are preventative measures in place to protect you, you best take them. I’m a big fan of vaccinations, condoms—”
“Mom!” I yell at her and Gracie tips her head back, laughing even harder.
“Please tell me you two use protection.” She eyes us probingly.
And now I want to die. I feel like I’m fifteen again.
Gracie blushes, covering her face with her hands, and I pull the blanket over us to hide our faces.
“Your line of questioning is too much,” I yell from under the blanket and Gracie giggles.
“I’m your mother, Andrew,” she says chidingly. “It’s my job to make you uncomfortable.” She laughs darkly, and I pull the blanket down and glare at her.
“We’re never coming to visit you again,” I tell her jokingly and we all laugh together. It’s nice to see Gracie laugh and I love that she gets along with my mom, even when those laughs come at my expense.
I mentioned to my mom about my plans to take Gracie out tonight, but I don’t think she understands how sick Gracie is feeling. Gracie still finds it within her to laugh with us, but her eyes are red and glossy, and I can tell from her demeanor she’s not going to manage a night out.
“I think we’re going to stay in tonight,” I tell my mom. “Gracie isn’t feeling well, and I hate to take her out in this weather.”
“Let me make dinner!” Mom jumps up from the couch and shuffles into the kitchen.
Gracie rests her head in my lap, and I massage her temples in hopes of helping her relax. It takes less than five minutes before she’s sound asleep.
* * *
Gracie wakes just before my mom calls to get us for dinner. Whatever she’s cooking smells amazing and Gracie looks like she’s turned a corner.
“That smells so good,” she says, stretching her arms above her head. I’m glad that she’s asking about food. She hasn’t eaten since the plane ride from New York.
“Do you have an appetite?”
She shrugs and pushes herself up from the couch. “Only one way to find out.” She reaches her hand out and she helps pull me up. “How long did I sleep?”
“Maybe an hour.” I toss the blanket onto the couch before we head into the kitchen.
My mom has the table all set up with a white tablecloth and centerpiece made of candles and pinecones. No doubt, her fall décor came from our very own backyard. But it’s when I notice only two place settings, my heart tugs in my chest. She did this for Gracie and me.
“It’s almost ready,” she says, wiping her hands on her apron. “I hope you like tri-tip and asparagus,” she says, pulling a pan from the oven. “My baked asparagus is to die for.”
I smile at my mom as she transfers the asparagus to a small platter that also holds the tri-tip that has already been sliced.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I say.
Gracie nods her head in agreement. “And I hope you’re planning to join us.”
“Can’t. I have plans.” She winks at Gracie.
“Plans?” I wonder where my mom would be going after eight in the evening. Then I remember, she’s a fifty-nine-year-old widow, not an eighty-five-year-old wife, and I need to treat her like that.
“Yes, plans,” she says cryptically. She pushes her reading glasses up onto her head and pulls her apron off. “Now you two enjoy dinner while I go get cleaned up.” She pulls Gracie into a hug. “I hope you feel good enough to eat, sweetheart.” When she lets go of Gracie, she moves to me. “And you better take good care of her.” She leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“I plan too,” I whisper, and she smiles at me.
Twenty
Whatever illness I have, it’s kicking my ass. I’m able to get a few bites of dinner down, and while it’s delicious, my stomach turns and I have to stop. However, just sitting at this table with Drew, knowing how much love Rose put into this dinner, makes my heart swell with happiness. I love his family, even Aaron. Everyone has welcomed me with open arms and open hearts and I can’t help but fall even more in love with Drew because of it.
“Go rest.” Drew shoos me away from the table. “I’ll clean up and meet you in the bedroom when I’m done.” As much as I want to help him clean up, my body is weak and tired. And honestly, I’d be more of a hindrance than a help.
I carry my plate to the sink, and Drew pulls me into an embrace before I leave. He holds me tight and I wrap my arms around his neck, allowing him to comfort me. Something about being in his arms makes me feel safe, content…loved.
He kisses my cheek before sending me on my way. “Go.”
A half hour later when Drew finally joins me in bed, he pulls me into him.
“Can we come back here again when I’m feeling better?” I ask him.
He pauses. “You want to come back?”
I nod and slide my fingers in between his. “I do. I like it here and I love your mom. I’d love to spend more time with her and actually get out and see Napa.”
I can feel him smile as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “She loves y
ou too,” he says quietly. “I’m so glad you got the chance to meet her. I just wish you felt better. And yes, we’ll come back again.”
“Good.” I close my eyes and sink into his warmth. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here with him wrapped in his arms.
* * *
“Babe,” he whispers in my ear and presses a gentle kiss to my temple. “You need to get up or we’ll miss our flight.”
I grumble and roll over, feeling disoriented. “What time is it?”
“Six in the morning. We have to leave in an hour.”
I groan. No. I don’t want to get up. My head is pounding with a headache. “I’m going to shower and then I’m going to need a cup of coffee.”
Drew massages my neck and I moan in pleasure. “Don’t make those sounds, baby,” he breathes into my ear. “You know what that does to me.”
I turn my head and smile over my shoulder. “Maybe you should join me in the shower,” I tease him.
He groans, and I can’t help but laugh. I love the effect I have on him. Even though I feel miserable, I’ve missed his touch and our connection. I know he’s giving me the space I need to get better, but I also need him.
“I wish,” he says. “You know I do. But you need to recoup. When we get back to New York, I’m all yours.” He presses a kiss to my temple and slides out of bed. “I’ll get you coffee. Go get in the shower.”
I do as I’m told, sighing with such contentment as I step into the hot shower. After I’m all clean, I wrap a large towel around me, brush my teeth, and towel dry my hair. I try not to sigh at myself in the mirror. My reflection isn’t inspiring confidence today. My face looks ashen and my eyes are still red, but I do feel better than yesterday. Hopefully by tomorrow, I’ll be back to normal.
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