Page 63 of Really Truly Yours
I take a deep breath. “Donny and I didn’t meet until about two years after he moved in. I saw him collapse in his driveway. He’d been carrying groceries into the house, fell, and dropped them everywhere.”
Gray nods, waiting.
“I called 911 and sat with him until the ambulance came. He collapsed because of a heart arrythmia, but it was during that hospital stay he was diagnosed with cancer. After he got released, he came over to thank me.”
Gray’s blanket has pooled around his midsection. A gold chain glints at the base of his throat.
“What else?”
My mouth feels dry. “What do you mean?”
“I still say that hardly explains your closeness.”
Right, that. His scent is almost enough to woo the whole story out of me.
Almost.
“I was in the middle of my health issues at the time. Even with all his diagnoses, in some ways, he was healthier than I was. More functional, for sure. He would bring me food, when I could actually eat, mowed my yard, picked up prescriptions. Visited me in the hospital.”
“You were hospitalized?”
The sincerity of Gray’s concern throws me. I swallow a sudden lump in my throat. “A couple times. Once, I was extremely dehydrated and sort of malnourished. They kept me there for several days trying to figure out what was wrong.” That visit built the first mountain of medical bills. “Donny looked after me when I got home and did all he could to help until I recovered.”
Gray touches his thumb to his lip, thoughtful. “Do you have family, Sydnee?”
“I…a brother.”
“Any others?”
The rain on the glass has softened to a patter. “None that matters.”
His gaze digs deep.
I hope the lack of light hides my face. Let him think what he will. Given my address, he can probably write his own script about my sordid family life and pretty much smack the nail on the head. The wrong-side-of-the-tracks Carsons are living, breathing clichés.
I push out a yawn, covering it with my fingers. It’s one part genuine and one part nervous gesture. “We should probably try to sleep.”
He reclines as much as he’s able. He tucks the pillow into place, twisting one way and the other to find comfort. He folds his hands on top of the blanket. “Sydnee?” he whispers.
“Hmm?”
“Are you better now? For real?”
My heart stutters. “I am.”
His sigh sounds, crazily, like relief. “I’m glad.” His eyes close. “Sleep tight, Sydnee Lou.”
Chapter 14
Sydnee
“’Mornin’, sunshine.”
I blink the sleepies away, and from Donny’s bedside, Grayson Smith’s dimpled grin comes into off-kilter focus. Straightening in my recliner uprights his image.
Sideways or crooked, he’s overwhelming to the system first thing in the morning.
A few clouds, stragglers from last night’s storms, filter the baby rays of sunrise beaming into the room. Donny has a breakfast tray in front of him and a fork in his hand. Gray’s hands curl around a cup of coffee.