LITMIR.BIZ

       CHAPTER FIVE

      KAYLEIGH RETURNED A nurse’s wave and tiptoed into her grandfather’s oversize room. She heard him before she spied him reclining in a chair by a large window overlooking the lake. An open book lay on his chest, his eyes closed and mouth open as he snored. She glanced at her watch. Two o’clock. Given the Fourth of July festivities list she’d spotted on her way inside the building, he must be exhausted.

      She hated to wake him up, but after a hard week, she was overdue for one of Gramps’s pep talks. So far, the programmers she’d approached with the newly written business plan for her start-up company had been less than enthusiastic. Without job prospects or return calls from Niall, things were getting worse by the day.

      Niall’s dismissal of her app idea had strained the confidence she’d been patching together since leaving GSI. As an old friend, she would have hoped he’d support her. Instead, he’d acted like the kind of person she least wanted to associate with anymore—someone who told her what was best for her instead of hearing her out. Yet a part of her still held out hope that her old friend was in there somewhere, that he hadn’t changed as much as it seemed.

      At least here, with Gramps, she wouldn’t be overlooked or ignored. With her grandfather, she always felt as if she mattered, and right now that meant so much. She peeked in his water pitcher, noticed it was nearly empty and grabbed it. At least she could make herself useful.

      “Hey, Miss Kay, how are you doing today?”

      Her grandfather’s familiar greeting made her smile and turn.

      “Hi, Gramps.”

      She set down the pitcher and hurried to his side as he struggled to stand.

      “You don’t have to get up.” She kissed his creased cheek and inhaled the soapy floral musk of his pomade, his winter-white hair smoothed into a neat side part.

      “Course I do. I’ve got to hug my only granddaughter, don’t I?” His laugh lines erupted like a solar flare as he pushed to his feet, leaning on his cane.

      He enfolded her, the feel as natural and soothing as ever. “It’s good to see you, Kay. Sorry you’re here instead of celebrating the holiday with that ex-fiancé of yours. What’s his name again? Brad? Brent?”

      She pressed her cheek against his heart, reassured by its steady thump. All was right in the world as long as Gramps was in it.

      “It’s Brett, and it’s better this way.” She strove to keep the catch out of her voice and failed. It still hurt to think of him, but a little less every day. Focusing on her new business idea helped. If only she wasn’t coming up short in that area, too. She felt precariously close to proving Brett right, that she was a thinker and not a doer.

      “Doesn’t mean the hurt goes away.” His unsteady hand slipped into hers, and he led her to a small sofa on the other side of his bed. “Breakups are hard on the heart.”

      “Thanks, Gramps. But I’m doing okay.” She didn’t want him worrying about her. After a life full of its own share of setbacks, he didn’t need to be concerned about hers.

      With care, she helped him lower himself to the couch, his other hand grasping his cane. Although his hip had mended from last year’s injury, she dreaded a repeat incident. It’d been terrifying to see her feisty grandfather laid up for so long.

      When she sat beside him, something sharp dug into her back. A red shoe with an orthopedic insert. She glanced at her grandfather when she pulled it out of the couch’s crease and saw a flush creep across his weather-beaten cheeks. Interesting....

      A nurse’s aide bustled in before she could ask about it and grabbed the empty pitcher. She wore scrubs patterned in daisies, her hair in a French braid. “Hi, Kayleigh. Are you volunteering today?”

      “Hey, Reanne. I’m leading water aerobics next week.”

      “Sounds good.” Reanne smiled at her grandfather. “Is there anything else I can get for you, Mr. Renshaw?”

      “If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind delivering this note to Mrs. Larson?” He held out a folded piece of stationery and, with a smiling nod, the aide took it and left.

      “Who’s Mrs. Larson? Someone special?” Kayleigh couldn’t resist teasing Gramps. “And shouldn’t you have sent her this, as well?” She held up the shoe.

      Her grandfather hung his head and then rolled his eyes up to meet hers, his hangdog expression making her laugh. “I would have, but I’m hoping she’ll let me deliver it in person. She’s not speaking to me.”

      Kayleigh wagged her finger. “You should have told me you had a girlfriend.” It felt good to tease again.

      “Annette’s not my girlfriend.” Gramps took the shoe and held it on his lap. “I haven’t dated anyone besides your grandmother in over fifty years. I’m making a mess of it.”

      “Who could resist you?” Kayleigh tucked a stray lock behind his ear. He really was the sweetest.

      Her grandfather rubbed his jaw. “Annette’s got one heck of a temper. Dumped a bowl of oatmeal over my head when I accepted Martha’s extra bacon at breakfast.”

      “Sounds like a keeper.” Her smile faded when her grandfather’s face fell.

      “She’s not your grandmother, God rest her soul.” He fumbled for the tissue box beside his bed, found it empty

Скачать книгу