Now I get where she’s going with her questioning. “Not if I have a reason to stay,” I answer, and she smiles.
MICAH
I’ve been on dozens of dates with douchebags I met online, yet not one of them ever made my stomach do cartwheels the way Rhodes does.
After we finish dinner, I go to the restroom and rinse my mouth with a little bottle of mouthwash I’d put in my purse in case the night ends in kisses.
And it definitely will. I can’t believe how well this date is going.
Before I walk out of the restroom, I check myself in the full-length mirror by the door. No, I’m not the skinny stick-figure model type. But I guess if a guy likes big booties and boobies, I have them in spades.
I haven’t felt this confident in, well, ever. I’d like to think my self-worth and confidence are not influenced by a guy, but it does make a difference when someone like Rhodes looks at me like he wants to scoop me up and kiss me until my entire being is nothing but warmth and happiness. It’s a nice change.
We leave the restaurant and he drives me home. I’m so nervous, and I hope he kisses me this time. I’d wanted him to kiss me after our lunch date, and many times since, but there were always people around. It’s after eight o’clock now, so Nana should be in bed. That’ll give us some privacy.
Or so I thought.
When we pull up to the house, I’m not surprised to see the outside flood lights blazing, as Nana always leaves them on when I’m gone, but I am surprised to see light coming from most of the windows in the house. She always turns off the interior lights before going to bed.
“That’s odd,” I say to Rhodes. “Surely she’s not still awake.”
“We’ll check it out,” says Rhodes, with a slight edge in his voice.
He parks by the side door and my heart drops when I look through the glass. The kitchen, living room, hall, and bedroom lights are on, and I see Nana’s arm stretched across the floor between the dining room and kitchen.
I scream, fumble to get my keys and throw back the door before rushing to my nana, who is breathing but disoriented.
“I’m calling an ambulance,” Rhodes says. He kneels at my side.
“Tell them to hurry. She has diabetes and heart disease,” I say, clutching my grandmother. I give the address to Rhodes, who relays it to the dispatcher.
“Grab her medicine,” I say. “I keep it all in the box by the stove.”
He retrieves it, puts it on the counter by his keys, and sits with me on the floor while I rock my nana and beg her not to die. The surreal moment blurs with a million jumbled thoughts in my head. I feel like I’m choking on my own breath. She feels so frail in my arms that it scares me.
“I’m not ready for this,” I whisper to Rhodes, who stays calm and rubs my back, telling me over and over it’s all going to be okay.
I’ve never been so scared in my life. My heart is racing and an overwhelming sense of dread makes me feel heavy and nauseous.
This cannot be happening. I can’t live without my nana.
It seems like forever until the paramedics arrive, but once they’re here, they take over and get her onto a stretcher. She’s still not coherent, but she moans and bobs her head when they try to talk to her.
At least she’s alive,I think, clutching Rhodes’ hand like my life depends on it.
While they’re lifting her onto the gurney, I search the kitchen for signs of whether she ate. There are no dishes in the sink, no empty containers in the trash can.
Rhodes watches me with a look of concern. “I gave her insulin before we left,” I say. “I don’t think she ate dinner. And she barely touched her lunch earlier. She’s in shock.”
Once the paramedics take her out of the house, they tell me I can ride with them to the local hospital.
“I’ll follow behind,” says Rhodes, picking up the box of medication.
He meets me behind the ambulance, giving me a kiss on the forehead and a hug before I climb in behind my grandmother. It calms me and lets me know I’m not alone.
* * *
The first few hours at the hospital are a blur. Rhodes, as promised, follows behind us and meets me in the parking lot. He gives the box of medication to the nurse so they can see what she’s taking, and I fill out paperwork while we wait in the lobby. The harsh light and smell of cleaner makes me feel sick, and once I return Nana’s information to the front desk, I fight the urge to lay down on the floor and cry.
