Page 110 of You First
“I’m glad you see that.”
Dré’s grin faded, and he watched Gray for a long moment. “So, the surgery’s in, what, a week and a half?”
Gray nodded. “Monday after next.”
“How long will you be in the hospital?” Dré asked, frowning.
He rolled his eyes. “Assuming everything goes well—”
“And that’s the only way it’s gonna go,” Dré insisted.
Gray snickered. “Exactly… Then it’ll be two to five days, depending on how the therapists think I’m doing.”
“What do you mean?”
He gave a disgusted sigh. “I mean, I have to be able to walk and safely climb stairs, and that’s what the physical therapists are for,” he said, grimacing. “And I have to be able to take a shit and a shower by myself, and that’s what the occupational therapists are for.”
Dré’s eyes bugged. “You might forget how to take a shit by yourself?”
“Sounds awesome, right?” Sarcasm was the only way to talk about something so humiliating it scared the fuck out of him.
Dré reached for him and gripped his shoulders. “Man, you know I love you,” he said, completely straight-faced before his eyes glinted. “But I am never wiping your ass.”
Gray pulled the punch he’d landed in Dré’s gut as the two of them laughed. “Get the fuck out of here,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”
Dré nodded and walked to the driver’s side door of his Laguna Blue Stingray convertible. “I’m counting on it.”
Gray couldn’t help himself. “And if I don’t…” He chuckled. “…I want you to scatter my ashes on that car so I can ride in style beside you for the rest of your life.”
“Fuck you, man,” Dré said, losing it, his teeth flashing as he laughed. The vette’s engine came alive with a purr, and Dré was gone with a wave.
Gray went back into the house, still smiling, and joined Meredith and Oscar on the floor of the living room.
“What’s so funny?”
Gray shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”
Meredith was even less of a fan of gallows humor than Dré. She gave him a disapproving look, but she still smiled. “I like your friend. Y’all are funny together.”
“Yeah.” Gray nodded. “He’s great.”
Now that Dré had met Meredith and knew what she meant to him, Gray felt even more at ease. If anything happened to him, his will would take care of her, but André would also look out for her.
All he had left to do was finish polishing the book and spend as much time as he could with the woman who’d claimed his heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE TEST ONchapters one through six inAtlas of Anatomyhad totally shredded her. For Meredith, the week had been the most physically and emotionally exhausting since she’d given birth to Oscar.
Gray’s surgery was in a week and a half, and his editor had just sent back his manuscript with the first round of edits. The plan was for Gray and Meredith to go through the book, accept or reject all of the suggestions made during copy editing, and return it with any additional changes by Saturday night.
As long as he felt well.
When he felt good, the hours burned up like sparklers. And when he was in pain, fear threatened to suffocate her. Meredith worried he wouldn’t make it to the surgery as much as she worried he wouldn’t make it through the surgery.
So when she pulled into Gray’s driveway after school and killed the engine, she didn’t move. Instead, she rested her head on the steering wheel and closed her eyes. Oscar was inside with Gray and his mother, and Meredith hoped he was still napping. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks for Dahlia Blakewood. The woman had moved her things back to the Hilton Garden Inn so that Meredith and Oscar could have the spare room and Gray wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch, but she’d come back that morning. Dahlia said she wanted to look after Oscar, and Meredith had no doubt that Gray’s mother adored her little boy, but she also knew — and was grateful — that Gray would never be alone. That someone was always there in case he took a grave turn. And it saved her from having to find childcare for Oscar just now.
As she expected, Leona had lost her mind Thursday night when the police arrived at the McCormicks’ to arrest Jamie. When Meredith’s phone had started ringing, Gray had insisted she let the call go to voicemail, and he’d screened it himself. Watching his face as he listened to the message was enough to let her know the woman on the other end was rabid at best. Gray had simply texted André, and the attorney reached out to Leona and Big Jim, informing them that he was representing Meredith, and if they wanted a relationship with Oscar, harassing her was not an option. The relief at hearing that Leona had, to quote André,“changed her tune faster than T-Pain,”allowed Meredith to relax enough to study Thursday night, but she still hadn’t slept much. Oscar was starting to ask questions about Jamie and his grandparents, and Meredith didn’t yet have any answers.
