Page 82 of The Quirky Vet

I smile at the words I've heard him say a million times before. I'd like to believe him, I really would, but life isn't like how it used to be back in his day.

After dinner, I'm loading the dishwasher when I spot Gramps leaning against the wall, looking a little pale.

I leave the dishes and make my way to him. "You okay, Gramps?"

"Just a bit tired. Might have an early night."

It's just gone seven, but I don't say anything. If he's tired, he's tired. "Sure. Want me to make you a cup of tea or anything?"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks."

"Let me help you to your room."

"Stop making a fuss."

"Stop talking back to your juniors. Your generation has no respect."

He chuckles but doesn't protest when I take his arm in mine and guide him down the hall to his room.

"You sure I can't get you anything?"

"Positive. I'm just knackered. A good night's sleep, and I'll be right as rain in the morning."

"All right. I'll make you a big brekkie tomorrow, okay?"

"Sounds good." He looks deep into my eyes, the same ones he passed down to me. "I love you, Muir."

I give him a hug. "Love you, too, Gramps."

The next morning, I get up at my usual time of six thirty and engage in some mindless phone scrolling. Fitz's latest video, his take on the Cockatoo Shimmy dance where he's shirtless, naturally, bobbing his head, shimmying his shoulders, and doing a lot of arm flapping, which all sounds about as crazy as it looks on the screen, is going viral with a list of B- and C-list celebrities getting in on the action. B and C celebs are fine, but the second you get JLO or anyone higher up the fame ladder jumping on board, the trend officially dies.#RIPdemure

After a few minutes, I get up, chuck on some clothes, and make my way to the kitchen. The house is quiet, so I stifle a yawn so as to not wake Gramps up. I hope he got a good night's sleep and is feeling rested today.

I set about making breakfast. It sucks having to work today. I'd rather stay home and keep an eye on the old fella, make sure he's not doing stuff around the place while I'm gone. Could explain why he was so tired last night. The cheeky bastard, just when I thought he was finally listening to his doc and following advice. Yeah. Right.

I take the scrambled eggs off the burner, and when the toast pops up, I call out, "Food's up!"

I grab the plates and bring everything to the table, expecting to see Gramps appear any minute.

But nope, no sign of him.

"Gramps!"

No answer.

I step out of the kitchen and head down the hall towards his room. When I reach it, I knock on the door. "Gramps?"

A cold shiver races through me as I open the door. Gramps is still in bed, sleeping. Except, as I get closer…I see that he's not moving.

He's not asleep.

My heart sinks. "Oh no."

He's dead.

The next few days fly by in a blur of phone calls, paperwork, and a shit ton of food and flowers showing up at the house.

Nothing feels real.