Page 51 of True Blue

The way he looks at me now, his smile so wide, his eyes so full of love as he sings.

Teddy.

This wonderful, silly, clumsy, caring man is mine.

Forever, if he lets me.

He, Luke, and Heath all break into exaggerated, clumsy seventies disco moves, pointing and shimmying and nearly colliding with one another. The entire building, partygoers, and staff, laugh hysterically at them.

Tears sting my eyes, and I’m holding my stomach from laughing so hard I can barely breathe.

That hope that sprouted inside me grows and grows as thoughts of Teddy and me living near the beach, while I work at my dream hospital and he finally pursues art, make me almost dizzy.

The career.

The man.

The life.

I’m getting the fairytale.

10

INDIE

JANUARY

“She’s upstairs!”

Without another word, I sprint past Dawn and straight into the house. Teddy is close behind me, following as I dart through the hallway.

My sneakers pound against the hardwood, then the stairs when I take them two at a time, rounding the corner to fly into Ellie’s bedroom.

She’s just where Dawn said—on her bed. Not breathing, not moving. Her gray hair fans out on her purple pillow. Her hands rest, folded on her stomach. For one split second, she looks as though she’s only sleeping.

Dawn woke us up by calling Teddy at 3:44, screaming down the line that Nana wasn’t breathing and was cold. We leapt out of bed, still in our pajamas, and rushed over here, making the fifteen-minute drive in seven.

I didn’t even put on a jacket, just shoved my feet into sneakers and grabbed my keys and phone. Teddy drove like a man possessed, one hand white-knuckled on the wheel, the other gripping mine so tightly it felt like I was the only thing holding him together.

“Nana…” Teddy’s voice is small and broken behind me.

I’m already crouched over her, checking her vitals.

Her pulse—still.

Her skin—cold to the touch.

Her chest—not moving.

I shine the penlight on my keychain into her eyes.

No response.

And yet, I still cling to hope. To save her. Even as my mind screams the truth my heart doesn’t want to face.

“Teddy, help me get her on the floor!” I bark, already moving. I hook my arms beneath Ellie’s shoulders, bracing her head and neck, while Teddy, though his hands shake, grabs her legs.

As we lower her to the floor, he keeps repeating in a wobbly voice, “Nana, Nana.”