by Frankie Love
“You know, you two could help bake since you’re standing there,” I point out as I stir heavy cream into a bowl of honey and rich chocolate chips.
“We are helping,” Brooklyn says. “We offered to taste-test.”
I smirk. “Yeah, and I already had to cut you off before you ate all my ingredients.”
“Enough about the truffles,” Nora says, exasperated. “You know why we’re really here!”
Nora’s got a place of her own across town and she and Brooklyn are damn near inseparable roommates. She comes home once a week for Sunday dinner, usually with Brooks in tow, but they made a special trip as soon as they found out Chuck was working late tonight on closing a particularly big real estate deal.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I say, being purposely coy because I’m sure they can see in my eyes that that’s not the case. These last three weeks have been the most unreal, perfect, unbelievable ones of my life—three weeks of melt-in-my-mouth, holy hotness dates with a man I’ve taken to unironically calling my Prince Charming. Even if only between the two of us.
Honestly, it’s all been a bit too good to be true—and that’s part of the reason I don’t want to tell my sister and my bestie about it.
The other part is that they would never, ever shut up about it.
“I was beginning to think we’d never see you outside the library again,” Brooklyn said while I stirred some butter into my chocolate-cream mixture and then put the bowl in the refrigerator to thicken.
I pull out a sparkling water and turn back to them.
“Seriously,” Nora said. “When are you two getting engaged?”
I nearly choke on my water. “Engaged? Please. We’re just having fun… keeping it casual.”
“Right,” Brooklyn says with a roll of her eyes. “You’re at least gonna move in with him, right? Get out of your parents’ house? Since you’re practically living with him as it is?”
“Umm, no,” I say. “I haven’t even slept over. You can ask Grace—I come home every night.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t,” Nora said. “What’s keeping you here?”
“Uh, the fact that this is my home,” I say, getting defensive. “All of my stuff is here. Mom and Dad are here. Not to mention the fact that there’s nothing serious between Chuck and me. No strings attached.”
“That didn’t work for Natalie Portman and Ashton Kutcher, and I’m not buying it here either,” Brook says.
“Well, tell that to Chuck,” I shoot back.
Seriously, who am I to argue when the rich, gorgeous real estate mogul with the magical cock wants to keep things casual? Casual is working out just fine for me.
10
Chuck
The day after my brokerage sealed the deal on a huge luxury condo development downtown, my crew of agents take me out to dinner to celebrate. They want to get drinks after and make a whole night of it, but I find myself checking my watch often and making excuses a little after seven o’clock.
“What’s the rush, dude?” Alex, one of my top agents and closest friends, asks. “It’s early.”
“Plus,” Parker, one of the other agents, leans in to say, “check out the talent at the bar.”
He nods subtly in the direction of a group of blondes in tight, clingy dresses—exactly the kinds of girls I used to go for. Fun. Easy. No chance whatsoever of forging an actual connection beyond physically.
Lately, though, I’ve only got eyes for my Cookie.
“Yeah, I think the one on the end is checking you out,” I tell Parker. “You should go for it.”
I stand up from my chair and button my blazer, and Alex gives me a disappointed look. “You’re not seriously leaving, are you?”
“I told Cassidy I would swing by after dinner,” I tell him. “There’s supposed to be a meteor shower later tonight and I figured we could watch for it from the hot tub.”
Parker makes a gagging noise at the romantic image, and Alex just arches an eyebrow. “Who are you and what have you done with the Chuck I know? The one who never dates the same girl twice? The one who would have loved the challenge of picking up the hottest girl in that group over there?”
I pause. I can’t possibly express to him how little that interests me now, and yet his words stir something deep in my gut.
Where did that guy go?
And who the hell is this stargazing, flower-picking, spend-every-available-moment-with-the-same-girl romantic fool who’s replaced him?
Despite how delicious the meal was, I find myself with a bit of a stomach ache and all of a sudden I wonder if I’m setting myself up for a fall. Cassidy’s got her whole family, and her big, cozy farmhouse, and her adoring library patrons.
All I’ve got is Gramps… and her.
And I sure as hell don’t want to find out what it feels like to have my heart ripped out.
That’s why we’re keeping things casual. It’s why I instituted my one-date policy in the first place. And yet, somewhere along the line, Cassidy made me forget all that. She made me want to take the risk.
But is it a good idea?
I say goodnight to the guys and I smirk as I see Parker heading for one of the blondes before I’ve even left the restaurant. I’m still deep in my thoughts, wondering if all this time I’ve been spending with Cassidy is a bad idea, when I get to my car and my phone starts to buzz in my pocket.
I get in, key the ignition, and hit accept call on the dashboard. “Hey, Cookie, I’m on my way–”
“Mr. McArthur?” a voice I don’t recognize asks.
I pause with my hand on the gearshift. “Yes?”
“This is Nurse Judy Lane at Golden Creek Hospital,” she says and I stop breathing while I wait for her to finish. It can only be a second-long pause, if that, but it feels like an hour. “Your grandfather was just admitted, and you’re listed as his emergency contact–”
I don’t let her finish. “Oh God, is he…” I can’t bring myself to say the word I dread most—the word that will mean I am all alone in this world—so instead I ask nonsensically, “Is he okay?”
Of course, he’s not okay. Nurses don’t call from the hospital when people are okay. Oh Gramps… don’t leave me.
“He’s had a stroke. He’s in critical condition,” she says. “You need to come quickly.”
“Okay,” I say. “Okay, I’m coming!”
My vision is blurred when I reach for the gearshift again, though, and my heart is hammering in my chest. How the hell am I supposed to get to the hospital if I can’t see? I swipe furiously at the tears in my eyes and then reach for the phone icon to dial another number.
11
Cassidy
I’m just putting the finishing touches on my outfit for tonight—a cozy sweater and jeans for our stargazing date—when my phone begins to ring.
I hit ‘speakerphone’ and leave the phone on my dresser while I choose from a few different shoe options. “Chuck? Are you here?”
We’ve decided lately that it’s easier if he just pulls up to the house and then calls, rather than run the gauntlet of my family members. Nora and Brooklyn are far from the only busybodies in my life, and by now, pretty much all of my family members feel comfortable giving Chuck a teasingly hard time when he comes inside.
The last time, my mother the romance author asked him if he knew the importance of the grand gesture for “when the time comes.” I barely got out of the house without dying of mortification that night.
Chuck doesn’t answer right away now, though, and I’m just leaning over to check the screen and make sure this isn’t a telemarketer when I hear what sounds like a muffled sob.
“Chuck?” I ask, a ripple of panic washing over me. “Is that you?”
“Cookie,” he says, his words strangled with emotion.
“Oh my gosh, what’s wrong?” I ask, swiping up the phone and taking him off speaker.
“It’s my grandfather,” he says, and my heart sinks.
“Oh no… what happened?�
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“He had a stroke,” Chuck says. “Look, I know you and I are just supposed to be having fun and this is definitely not fun… but you’re the first person I thought of. Plus I know how much you mean to Gramps and…” His voice breaks again and with the last of his strength, he asks, “Will you come?”
There are tears streaming down my own face by now, wetting the front of my sweater, and I look up to see my mother standing in the doorway—listening in with one hand sympathetically clutched to her chest.
“To the hospital?” I ask.
“Well, actually, I haven’t even gotten that far yet,” he admits. “I’m sitting in the parking lot outside the Golden Creek Bistro trying to compose myself enough to drive over there.”
My mom has come into the room by now and put her arms around me, her forehead resting on my own. I tell Chuck, “Let me drive you. I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you,” he says. “Cookie?”
“Yes?”
He pauses, then changes his mind. “Nothing. Just thank you.”
“I’ll be there soon,” I promise, then hang up and look to my mother. “Charles had a stroke. It sounds bad.”
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry,” my mom says, wrapping me fully in her arms for just a second. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I say, not quite certain it’s the truth. “But Chuck isn’t. And I don’t know what to do.”
I’ve never been in a situation like this before, never been with someone while they potentially lost someone as important to them as Charles is to Chuck. And I’m not at all sure that the girl he’s having a casual fling with is the right one to comfort him right now.
But he called me. And I want to be there for him.
“Mom, what do I do?”
She smiles, her eyes full of sympathy, and she holds me at arm’s length. “Sweetheart, do what I always tell you and your sisters to do: just follow your heart. It won’t lead you astray.”
“Even if it feels like it’s breaking right now?” I ask.
She nods. “Be brave. Go and be there for Chuck. That’s all he really needs right now.”
I take a deep breath and throw on the nearest pair of shoes—a decision that seemed so important just a few minutes ago, which is entirely trivial now.
And then I grab my car keys and my bag, and I head out of the house with my mom calling after me, “Drive safely! Call if you need me!”
She really is the best mom. I’ve got an incredible family and as annoying as they can be when they’re trying to insert themselves into my life, I wouldn’t trade them for the world. I’m misting up again by the time I get to the Bistro parking lot, imagining how horrible it would be if it were one of my parents in the hospital, imagining how awful Chuck must feel right now.
He’s standing outside his car when I pull up beside him, and I throw my own car into park and fly around the passenger side to wrap Chuck up in the fiercest hug. I squeeze until I’m sure he knows just how much I care about him and Charles, until he buries his face against my neck and I feel his tears transferring onto my skin.
“Thank you,” he murmurs against me, squeezing me back. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course,” I tell him. “Let’s go see Charles.”
We climb into my car—nothing fancy like the sleek luxury sedan that Chuck has, but right now, that kind of thing just doesn’t matter. I take his hand across the center console and drive him to the hospital—that’s all that matters.
When we get there, I sit in the waiting area while Chuck is taken into a patient room to see Charles. I stare down at the worn old sneakers on my feet and think about Charles. At our last book club, after we talked about The Secret Life of Bees, Evelyn suggested a watch party for the movie adaptation and Charles had offered to host it. Would he get the chance now? He’d seemed to love the idea.
After what feels like hours but is probably only about ten minutes, Chuck emerges and takes a seat beside me. He slides his big hand over mine, nearly engulfing it, and I ask meekly, “How is he?”
“Unconscious,” Chuck says. “He’s in a coma and they’re not sure if he’s going to wake up.”
“Oh Chuck,” I say, resting my head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
Is it enough just to be here? I don’t know. But being at Chuck’s side right now is the only place I want to be.
12
Chuck
It’s the longest night of my life—even longer than the night I lost both my parents in a car accident. That night, awful as it was, at least everything happened quickly. They’d died instantly—no pain, or that’s what Gramps told me.
And I had him to hold me and tell me everything would be okay… eventually.
Tonight, I’ve got Cassidy by my side and as much as my heart is breaking right now, I’m so glad she’s here. She hasn’t let go of my hand since we sat down in the waiting area, and she’s been trying her best to distract me.
She tells me about the first time my grandfather approached her about dating me. “I barely even knew him,” she says, “but I could see in his eyes how much he cares about you, and that all he really wanted was for you to be happy.”
“That’s all he wants for anybody,” I say. “He’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known. When my parents died, he made sure to love me enough for both of them.”
Cassidy squeezes me a little tighter and I realize what I’ve just said. That’s the most I’ve told anyone about my parents’ deaths in a long, long time, and she just nods and listens. She doesn’t pry for more information, or try to offer up platitudes.
She’s just what I need.
Now.
Always?
I open my mouth to say more, but then Nurse Lane appears in the waiting area. She’s on overtime by now, but she’s been by my grandfather’s side since he was admitted and her unwillingness to give up hope has given Cassidy and me hope too. I perk up as soon as I see her.
“Your grandfather’s heart rate has just increased,” the nurse says. I feel my hopes lifting and she hurries to add, “That by itself isn’t necessarily a sign that he’s coming out of his coma. I think you should come and be with him, just in case.”
“Okay,” I say, standing, not letting go of Cassidy’s hand. “Can she come with me?”
Nurse Lane nods, and I look to Cookie.
“Do you want to?”
“Yes,” she says. “Please.”
So the nurse leads us into my grandfather’s room, checks the monitors once again, then leaves us alone with him for a few minutes. I approach cautiously, Cassidy coming in my wake. Gramps is so small, so vulnerable-looking in this hospital bed. I hate the sight of him like this.
I sit down and Cassidy stands beside me, her hand on my shoulder.
“Hi, Gramps,” I say. “Can you hear me?”
Nurse Lane told me the first time I came into the room that coma patients can often hear everything going on around them. I hope it’s true now. I look to the monitors, which are beeping away with reassuring steadiness, but I’m no doctor—it’s meaningless to me.
“Grandpa,” I say, taking one of his hands in mine, careful not to disturb the ghastly IV and monitor leads coming off him. “I’m here.”
One of the monitors gives a little jump in frequency, and I look to Cassidy. Her brows are furrowed and her eyes glisten with concern. Then, they widen. Those gorgeous emeralds become orbs of surprise and she breathes, “Chuck. Look!”
I look back to my grandfather, whose eyes flutter open.
“Gramps?” I ask in disbelief. “Are you awake?”
He squints in my direction, struggling but not really seeing, but his hand squeezes mine. “Chuck?” he rasps. Then he looks up. “Is Cookie with you?”
I nod. “Yes, she is, Gramps.”
I pull her closer to the bed and she adds her hand to ours. “I’m here, Charles.”
A weak smile pulls at his lips and he manages one more word. “Water.”
Cassidy looks for a cup and a straw and finds them on the lap table at the end of the bed. She holds it to Gramps’ lips while I dash into the hallway to call for Nurse Lane, then return to his side. I watch as Cassidy leans over the bed and kisses Gramps’ cheek, saying, “Welcome back, Charles. I’m so glad you didn’t leave us.”
My heart flutters and my chest feels so damn full. Everyone I care about in the world is in this room right now, and I couldn’t ask for anything more.
Nurse Lane comes in and checks his vitals again, and pages the doctor.
Then, his strength returning a bit, Gramps turns back to Cassidy and me. “I knew…” He speaks haltingly, determined to put forth the effort even as Nurse Lane tries to coax him to relax. “I knew you two were perfect for each other… just like me and Carol. Had to… had to stick around long enough to see you together.”
Then he rests his head back on the pillow and lets Nurse Lane do what she needs to do. The doctor comes in soon, and Cassidy and I are ushered back out to the waiting area so they can perform some tests and find out what toll the stroke had on Gramps.
But he’s awake, and they tell us he’s out of the woods.
“Oh, Chuck,” Cassidy says as soon as we’re alone again. “I’m so glad he’s okay.”
She throws her arms around my neck, trying to hug me, but I steal a kiss instead. “I am too. And I’m glad you’re here with me.” I take her hands in mine. “Cassidy… I know this is not nearly as romantic as lying on a blanket together and staring up at the stars. In fact, it might be the least romantic setting imaginable… but I can’t wait another day to say this—or even another moment.”
Her brows furrow. She’s looking at me with such intense concentration, and her eyes are alight with emotion.
God, she’s beautiful.
“Yes, Chuck?”
“Cassidy, I love you,” I tell her. “I know this was just supposed to be some casual fling. We were never even supposed to go on a second date. You may not be looking for forever, and I didn’t think I was either—until I met you. Cookie, I want forever with you.”