Made In America

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Made In America Page 21

by Jamie Deschain


  My typing comes easily. Practiced fingers rush furiously over the keys. Entering, deleting, entering again. I can feel my pulse rate quicken the closer I come to finding what I’m looking for.

  “What are you—”

  “Shh,” I chide. “Almost got it.”

  I hit enter one last time, and give a deep, nervous breath before turning the screen toward Tito so he can see what I have brewing. His eyes peruse the page before snapping up to meet me, and when he sees the expression on my face, his mouth widens into the same, wicked grin I have on mine.

  “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

  - 28 -

  Grant

  Abel pulls into the parking garage at Johns Hopkins and finds a space near the entrance. As he kills the engine, I sit and take a deep breath, feeling the effects of the three-hour drive now that we’ve stopped. I’ve had time to digest everything Raven said, and she’s right: I do still have a lot of things to work through, and all of them rest upstairs in the neurosciences critical care unit.

  “We’re here, sir,” Abel nudges, turning in his seat to look at me.

  “Thank you,” I answer, catching his eye.

  Other than Alan—and now Raven—he’s the only person that knows the truth about my past. Abel just isn’t my driver, or my bodyguard, he’s my friend, and though he’s a man of few words, the words he does speak are always taken to heart.

  “Any advice?”

  He sits stoically, his wise eyes betraying nothing—as usual. I swear, if he ever decided to leave my service to become a card player, he’d win the World Series of Poker his first time out, and though I haven’t said anything to him regarding the reason for this sudden road trip, we both know why I’m here.

  Abel clears his throat and I lean forward, eager to hear what he has to say.

  “Do you love Miss Raven?” he asks.

  I flinch, not expecting him to answer my question with a question, and certainly not one about Raven. I know he finds her spunk amusing, but just knowing she’s on his mind at a time like this tells me that he’s given her considerably more thought than I first assumed.

  “Yes,” I answer honestly. “I love her.”

  “And does she love you?”

  I fidget in my seat, not wanting to speak for Raven. Not after what I did.

  “Abel, I asked for your advice, not for—”

  “Because if she does love you, then know that while loving someone gives you courage, being loved by someone also gives you strength. That’s my advice to you, sir.”

  I pause, my mouth hanging open as his words sink in. Well, not his words. They’re actually a quote by the Chinese philosopher, Lao Tzu. Abel knows I know this, but it doesn’t make their meaning any less impactful.

  I glance away, looking out the window and thinking just how much I do love Raven. It’s a love that has driven me crazy over these last couple of months. A love that has brought me to my knees, and lifted me to heights I never thought I’d achieve again.

  And while I don’t know about giving me courage considering my recent actions, I know the way Raven feels about me does provide strength.

  Hopefully it’s enough.

  “Thank you, Abel,” I say, opening the door to the SUV.

  He nods. “I’ll be here when you’re ready, sir.”

  Walking through the garage toward the elevators, my focus shifts from the love I have for Raven, to a different kind of love. One that perhaps was once like the feelings I have now, but has since receded into the annals of my heart like the kind of love you have for someone from long ago. You think of them fondly, can remember vividly the good times, and while they may no longer be in your life, your heart flutters when you recall time spent together in youthful fashion.

  That is the kind of love I have for Amanda, and it’s also the kind of love I know will never disappear from my soul because no matter what’s about to happen, her and I will always be connected.

  Stepping through the elevator doors, I rise up, landing on the NCCU to be greeted by one of her nurses—a middle-aged, petite woman named Rachel, who was there when Amanda was first brought in. Her face is framed by caramel colored locks, and her eyes are red as she dabs at them with a tissue.

  “Mr. Huffman,” she sobs. “We’re ready for you.”

  I take her by the hand and lead her toward Amanda’s room. There are 24 beds on this floor, with my wife’s being secured in a private space made available only to those I’ve either heavily background checked, or those I’ve heavily bought. Either way, the people looking after her have stayed silent all these years, and for that I am eternally grateful.

  Stepping past the threshold, my eyes come to rest first on Doctor Archibald, the head of the NCCU. He’s looked after her since day one, doing his best to make her comfortable. The look on his face says it all. He’s sorry.

  So am I.

  “Grant,” he extends his hand, which I take with solemn sadness.

  “Charles. How is she?”

  “Ready,” he answers. “She’s in no pain, we’ve stopped all foods and fluids, removed her IV lines; now all that remains is the ventilator.”

  I look to Amanda for the first time. My chest expands, and I emit a sound that vaguely registers in my ears as the emotion overwhelms my heart.

  Archibald squeezes my hand tighter. “We’ll leave you two alone. Take as long as you need, Grant.”

  He releases his grip and guides Rachel out of the room, closing the door behind them.

  I approach Amanda’s bedside, taking a seat next to her delicate frame outlined in thin blankets. The small tube coming from her mouth leads to the machine that’s been keeping her alive since her brain shut down. I asked for this—for her to be kept alive—until I was ready to say goodbye.

  Taking her by the hand, I feel the softness of her skin against mine as I stare at her face. After all these years she’s still exquisite, and I reach to brush a golden lock from her forehead. The feel of her hair breaks me, and my tears come easy now, leaking down my cheeks to wet the material of my jeans.

  When I look at her, I don’t see the frail, fragile woman she’s become, but rather the young, vibrant girl I fell in love with when I was five, even before I knew what love was. I see her smile, I see the way she looked at me from across the room on the night of her sixteenth birthday. I see the passion in her eyes the first time we made love.

  I see all of those things, and more, including the one moment that took her spirit, and shattered my heart.

  A moment I caused.

  A moment I’ve been running from all these years, only to come full circle and face it head on. Face what I did, and face what I’m about to do.

  “I’m so sorry,” I sob, holding her hand tighter.

  Then I lie down next to Amanda, cradling against her before burying my nose in her neck, remembering the way she smelled on the first day of senior year. Like vanilla and Pantene.

  “I’m sorry,” I moan again, feeling the tightness in my chest increasing with each desperate gasp for breath. “I’ve never been able to tell you that, but I want you to know, Amanda, how much I’ve regretted that day since it happened. If I could go back and do it all again—left the next day, left a little later—I would. I’d reset the clock and lose everything, if it meant spending one more second with you.”

  I throw my arm around her chest. A chest rising and falling in slow, mechanical breaths, with lungs being supported by a machine, rather than the beating of her heart.

  “But I can’t do that,” I whisper quietly as my tears begin to subside. “I can’t do that because as much as I still love you, there’s someone else. I think you’d like her, Amanda. Her name is Raven, and she’s full of life, like you once were, and she makes me feel…full. She makes my heart feel full, like you once did, and I hope that wherever you are—wherever you’re going—you can look down on us and be happy, because that’s all I want for you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, is to be happy.”

  I wipe
my eyes and sit up, clutching onto her hand one more time, committing to memory the warmth of her skin, and the light that despite all she’s been though, still remains on her tired face. Then I lean over, and press my lips to hers, remembering with a tear what it was like to kiss her, knowing I’ll never get to ever again.

  “I love you,” I whisper in her ear, hoping Amanda can hear me. “I always will.”

  Easing myself off the bed, I walk regretfully over to the other side of her, and stare down one last time at my wife before I turn off the life support, and she’s gone forever.

  - 29 -

  Raven

  When I hear the door to Grant’s office open I take a deep breath, and swivel around in his chair to face him. The look in his eyes is priceless as his mouth forms a shocked, but pleasant O when he sees me.

  “Raven? What are you doing here? And why did Abel insist on bringing me to the office instead of home?”

  “Aww, miss me?”

  “I…I, uh—”

  “He and I had a nice little chat while you were out gallivanting around today. We talked—”

  “Gallivanting around? He didn’t tell you where I was?”

  I shake my head. “No, and it doesn’t matter. Not right now.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I have a surprise for you.”

  He drops his coat on the desk and I stand, coming around front to secure my place by his side. My smile falters as I notice for the first time how bloodshot his eyes are, but there’s no scent of alcohol coming from his breath, so at least he’s not drunk. Still, I can’t help but wonder if those tears are because of me, or if something else happened.

  “Raven,” he groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s been an extremely long day, and as elated as I am to see you, do you think we could just do this tomorr—”

  “Tito!” I shout.

  Grant jumps at my sudden outburst, and we both look toward his executive bathroom, where Tito’s been hiding my surprise.

  He emerges wearing a pair of black slacks and a white, button up dress shirt. I think it’s part of a tux ensemble, which is the dressiest thing in his closet. He waves to Grant, while winking at me. “Hello, ladies,” he teases.

  “Tito?” Grant asks, totally confused.

  “Mhmm, and I brought a friend.”

  “I swear to you two, if Frankie comes out next dressed in a—”

  “Who’s Frankie?” a gravelly voice booms, followed closely by the man it belongs to.

  Nelson McCreedy.

  Once again, the look on Grant’s face is priceless, and I can’t help but giggle as he quickly reaches for his suit jacket in order to make himself look more presentable.

  “Nelson,” he gasps. “I didn’t…I wasn’t expecting…”

  Grant is completely flustered, struggling to get into his jacket. I help him out, holding it steady so he can thread his arms through.

  McCreedy holds up his hand, patting the air. “Relax, Huffman, this isn’t a business call. Well, not really.”

  “It’s not?” he says, looking to me for clarification.

  “Abel wasn’t the only one I had a nice little chat with today,” I whisper coyly.

  “No, she wasn’t,” McCreedy says, moving toward the desk. “Huffman, I don’t know where you found this woman, but whatever you’re paying her it’s not enough. She’s got a lot of guts doing what she did.”

  Grant raises an eyebrow at me. “What did you do?”

  “She showed me your proposal, that’s what she did. Came to my house, bribed the doorman, and somehow managed to make her way past my housekeeper, and God only knows how she did that. Helga is a tough cookie, but apparently your little bird is a fighter.”

  “Been fighting all my life, sir,” I look at Grant to add, “and I’m not done yet.”

  He puts his arm around me and holds me close. The feel of his body next to mine is as comforting as it is sensual, reminding me just how much I’ve missed him. All of him.

  “Nelson,” he says, “I don’t understand. I thought you signed with Danziger.”

  “Yes, well, you would think that, wouldn’t you? I assumed that when he said he was starting his own company, that he was actually starting his own company, but since meeting with him I haven’t heard a peep. No paperwork, no updates. Nothing. Truth be told, if you’re girl hadn’t come to see me today, I was actually going to call you next week to apologize.”

  “Apologize.”

  “Yes,” McCreedy frowns. I get the feeling he’s not used to apologizing to anybody. “It seems I may have been a bit hasty in my decision. I put quantity over quality. Danziger may have been able to double my portfolio in mere hours, but looking at what you and Miss Young put together, I see now that my money belongs with you so it can grow steadily over the long run. There’s less risk doing it your way—more stability—which given my last experience with The Monroe Group is something I sorely need right now.”

  Grant’s eyes snap to meet mine. His mouth opens and closes like he wants to say something, but he’s too awestruck to put thoughts into words, and all I can think is that this—everything—has so been worth it.

  When I went to McCreedy’s place today with Tito, I had no idea what to expect. Part of me thought I’d be in jail right now instead of standing next to Grant, but after concocting my scheme and laying it all out for Tito to hear, he added a little bit of extra flair to it by way of bribery and distraction, allowing me to fend off Helga all on my own. I didn’t think she’d crack, but after telling her a story I made up on the spot about how Nelson got me pregnant and that I’d go to the press unless she let me see him, the older—and slightly terrifying—housekeeper let me through.

  And I did it all for Grant, because the truth is, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for that man.

  “And besides,” McCreedy says, “I don’t think I want to do business with a man like Alan Danziger, not after the things your bird told me. Fun bags, indeed. I thought he had a little more class than that. I guess I was wrong, and I swear to whatever God is up there, Huffman, if you tell anybody I said that—”

  “Your secret’s safe with me, sir.”

  Nelson keeps his judgmental gaze fixed on Grant for a long while until he’s satisfied. Then he extends his hand and says, “Have your people draw up the papers, and I’ll sign them. I trust you’re more efficient in that department than Danziger is, correct?”

  “Correct, sir, and thank you. You’re not going to be disappointed.”

  “I’m sure I won’t,” he answers, looking to me. “Do think about what I said, too. This woman deserves much more than the title of Assistant.”

  “I will,” Grant smiles. “I’ve actually been thinking about that a lot lately.”

  The two powerhouses shake hands and say their goodbyes as I meander over to Tito, who beams proudly at me. “We did it!” he squees.

  “Thank you so much for today, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “You owe me big time, baby doll. Do you know I had to promise that doorman a date with Taylor Swift? Hopefully your man has some connections.”

  Laughing, I nudge Tito before looking to Grant, who seems right in his comfort zone doing business with a man like Nelson McCreedy. I’m proud of him for adapting so quickly to the situation. I know it was a surprise, and though he may have been caught off guard at first, he’s handling himself like a true professional now, despite looking a little rough around the edges.

  Why is that? I wonder, staring curiously at his back as he sees McCreedy out.

  “Earth to Rave, come in, Rave.”

  “Huh?”

  “You okay?”

  I tear my eyes away from Grant, only to see a look of concern on Tito’s face. He’s been such a champion all day, but I think it’s time this little gathering gets whittled down to two.

  “Yeah, of course. I was just thinking about Grant’s desk and—”

  “Say no more,” he answers, raising his hands in surr
ender. “I’ll get out of your hair. Call me later?”

  “Definitely,” I smile, opening my arms for a hug.

  As Tito makes his exit after receiving Grant’s solemn promise to get in touch with T-Swift, I make my way to the seat behind his desk. It’s a chair I’m becoming quite used to, if I do say so myself.

  Grant stands in front of me, resting his ass on the hard wood while folding his hands across his lap. He looks absolutely exhausted now that everyone’s gone and it’s just us. Like he can finally take off the mask he’s been wearing in McCreedy’s presence, but what I see isn’t what I expect. I expected hope, joy, maybe even a twinge of happiness, yet the look in his eye goes from pleased to devastated, and the red rings surrounding them become more pronounced the thicker his tears become.

  “Grant?” I stand, completely in shock. I place my hand on his chest as he takes a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. “What is it?”

  “This morning you said we both had some stuff to work through. Is that what you meant? McCreedy? Were you planning this all along?”

  “No,” I shake my head. “Of course not. It just came to me. Honestly, I don’t know what I meant. I just thought we needed some time apart so we could—”

  “I don’t want to be apart from you, Raven. Not now, not ever. I love you.” His voice wavers as the tears stream down his cheeks. He looks so fragile. So…broken. “I love you so fucking much.”

  He grasps on to me, holding my body tight against his. I feel him quake while his emotions pour out of his eyes and croak from his throat in sobbing grunts that leave me feeling helpless.

  “Shh,” I offer, rubbing his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  After a few more minutes of holding on, Grant’s grip loosens enough for me to grab the box of tissues on his desk. I hand it to him, and stare into his eyes as he wipes them dry before blowing his nose. I’ve never seen him this shattered before.

 

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