Granddad's House (On Geneva Shores) (27 page)

“Of course. If you want me to.” She remembered what her grandfather had said. “But if you think it should just be you and Katie and Ted, I understand.”

He came up behind her and turned her around. “You are the most amazing person.” He hugged her. “Let’s hope we don’t have to do that.”

She spooned up the chili and handed him one of the muffins, piping hot from the oven. “Time to sit down and eat.”

He dished up the salad and handed her a glass of the wine he had asked her to taste. “Thank you for being here, Olivia. It means the world to me.”

She smiled into his eyes and clinked her glass against his. If only she could make his hurt go away. He looked so sad.

Robert rose from the couch. He took off his glasses and rubbed his nose. A program he didn’t recognize was playing on the television. He must have slept through
Questions
and Answers
. Rain was falling, and a brisk breeze was blowing raindrops onto the window overlooking the back garden. He shivered and pulled the quilt around his shoulders, a quilt Esther had made so many years before, the quilt he was sure still held her perfume when he gathered it close. He placed his glasses on the table, shivered again and went into the kitchen, dragging the quilt with him.

“Tea. I need some tea.”  He looked for a tea cup and decided on one of the china cups his wife had collected, the one with the blue rose on the side. She had bought it on a long-ago trip to
Butchart Gardens on Vancouver Island. They had enjoyed that outing so much. He placed it on the counter and turned on the stove burner under the teakettle. What else with his tea? Maybe a cookie, even though he wasn’t supposed to have them late at night. But one wouldn’t hurt. He looked for the canister. Then he remembered. It was in the cabinet above and to the right of the stove. He reached up with one hand, gathering the quilt around his shoulders with his left.

“Uh. One more try,” he grunted as he reached higher to get the cookie canister.
Livvy must have put it up here so I couldn’t reach it.

He touched the canister with his fingers and gradually eased it to the edge of the shelf. When it fell, he grabbed for it, but the canister slipped out of his hands. He dropped the quilt in an effort to catch the can. When he turned toward the center island to place the canister on the counter, a burning sensation along one leg caught his attention. He looked down and saw blurry red light on the quilt and the leg of his pajamas, too. Where were his glasses? He looked down at his leg, not sure why it was hurting so. He reached for the teakettle that was now singing. “The water’s ready.
Gotta get it,” he muttered. But the burning sensation intensified and began to climb up his leg. He squinted as he looked down without his glasses, and tried to move away from what he now recognized as flames.

“What? How?”  The teakettle was screeching loudly.
Water—too hot, like my leg
.  He tried to step away from the quilt, which was now fully engulfed in flames and smoke. He coughed and edged toward the kitchen sink, but his foot slipped and he fell hard, his head hitting the edge of the counter. Stunned, he opened his mouth to call out for help. Pain now engulfed his entire left side. It was hard to breathe. Blackness swallowed him.

People were talking. A woman’s voice. Robert squinted against a bright light. If only he could touch his leg. He had to stop the pain.

“No one’s home. I left a message. Is he going to make it through the night?”

That voice didn’t sound like Livvy.
Gotta call Livvy. I need you, Esther. Help me.

“These burns don’t look good, and he’s elderly. How old did you say he is?” a man asked.

Olivia, where are you? Help me.
Tell them to let me up.
Livvy, help me.

“The EMTs found his wallet in the other room.” A woman’s voice again.  “Almost eighty-six. I’m going to try this other number. I think it must be a work number. Maybe someone there knows where the next of kin is.”

Good. You do that. Next of kin?
But I’m not dead. Or am I? What time is it?
Call Livvy.
The pain in his legs and along his side hurt so much. Robert groaned and felt the prick of a needle before he descended into the darkest of nights.

“I know it’s late, but we’re going for a ride,” Beau said. “Come with me.” He reached for Olivia’s hand. It was dark and clouds were scudding across the sky, threatening more October rain when they left the condo. He drove toward the mountains to the east, refusing to tell her where they were going until they arrived at a small cabin.

He opened the door for her. Within minutes he had started a fire in the small woodstove that quickly heated the room.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“It used to belong to my folks. They bought it right after we vacationed here one year. I think I must have been thirteen. Paul was eleven, and Katie had just turned eight. The three of us own it jointly now that our folks are gone. We came up here after Paul graduated from the university and was commissioned, and when Katie told us she was engaged to Ted. It’s kind of our family refuge. I wanted you to know about it. Important events are part of this place. When our folks died, after we took them home, the three of us came here and stayed for a week to get a handle on how we would manage. I want to bring some of Paul’s personal effects here after Arlington. What do you think of that idea?”

“I think it’s great. Have you mentioned this to Katie?”

He nodded. “She agreed. Ted thinks that maybe this Christmas, they’ll come back and we can all have Christmas up here.”

“That’s a great idea.”

“When I said all of us I meant you, too, Olivia. I want them to meet you, to get to know you.”

“Oh. Won’t they meet me if we have to go to Arlington?”

“Yes, but that’s likely to be a difficult time. I want you to be with us when we’re happier. Will you come back here with me when we’re”—his eyes filled—“when we’re all together?”
Except for Paul.

She slipped one arm around his waist. “If you want me to, I’ll come.”

“Good.” He kissed her. “I think we better go home. It’s getting late.” He patted his pocket. “I left my cell at home. Where’s yours?”

She checked her purse. “Must be at your place. We left so quickly …”

“Doesn’t matter. We needed time away, so we wouldn’t be interrupted.”
Maybe I’ll propose to her up here.

They drove back to the condo, reaching the underground garage just before the rains began to come down hard.

Beau yawned as they entered the elevator. “It’s been a long day. I didn’t sleep all that well last night.”

“Neither did
I.” She pulled her hand away from his. “I was thinking I should probably go home to my own place tonight—to give you some space.”

“No. I want you here. Please stay.”

She didn’t argue. Together, they went upstairs. She was lying in bed, her eyes closed when he slid in next to her and turned out the light.

He gazed down at her, her red hair covering one pillow, a bright patch of color in the pale light. “I love you so much, Olivia. I want you here every night with me.”

She smiled. “It’s an offer I’ll give very serious thought,” she said, as she put her arms around him.

He made love to Olivia that night as if she were a china doll, acutely aware that she made him feel alive when his heart ached from the colonel’s news. As she became more heated, he fell under the spell of her soft sounds. He brought her to a peak of mutual excitation and exalted as they cascaded together into the relaxation of sexual exhaustion. Before he drifted off to sleep, her arms holding him close, he whispered her name and smiled, certain he had shown her how he felt about her, certain as well that she felt the same about him.

Olivia rolled over and listened to the sounds emanating from Beau’s shower. He was singing a tune she didn’t recognize. She smiled. He must be feeling better. She stretched and reached for her nightgown, slipped it over her shoulders and headed for the kitchen to start some coffee. Her cell phone lay near her purse. Absentmindedly, she flipped it open and noticed a message light. She listened to the first one in the queue.

“Olivia.” Genevieve’s voice, and the time on the message said it was from last night—when she and Beau had left to drive to the cabin. “Something terrible has happened. Your granddad’s at the hospital, something about a fire at his house. When you get this message, call them. Here’s the number.”

Olivia gasped. “Beau! Oh, no. I’ve got to go!” She raced back into the bedroom, grabbed her jeans and sweatshirt, and pulled them on.

“What’s the matter?” He dried his hair as he came out of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips.

“Granddad’s in the hospital. A fire. Genevieve called. They must have tried me at home and didn’t find me. I should have been there. Oh, God. I’ve got to go.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“You’re not dressed. I have to go now!”

“Not the way you’re crying. I’ll get us there. It won’t take me but a minute.” He flung on clothes and was in the elevator with her less than five minutes later.

She sprinted into the ER while he parked the car. At the admitting desk, she said, “Olivia Brown. I’m here to see my grandfather, Robert Brown.”

She was directed to his room in the burn unit, where he seemed to be sleeping. The nurse came in with her.

“He’s sedated,” the woman explained.

“What happened?”

“We’re not sure. Lots of smoke set off the fire alarm and a neighbor called it in, I think. The EMTS said his pajamas were on fire when they got there. He’s got burns mostly on his
legs  and on his left side and a bad bump on the head. They think he got too close to the stove. Somehow, he couldn’t get away from the flames.”

“Where’s his doctor? I have to talk to him.”

“He’ll be here in about an hour, for rounds. Maybe you could give us some information.”

“What do you want to know?”

“His usual health status.”

“He has type II diabetes, takes insulin three times a day, with meals. Mostly, he’s been stable, except when he forgets to eat. He’s done that a few times lately.” She began to tear again.
I should have been there to make sure he had dinner.

“Any other health issues?”

“Dr. Dawson, his regular doctor, saw him last week. He mentioned that he might be showing some signs of dementia or early Alzheimer’s, some forgetfulness and that he might be depressed. He wasn’t sure.”

The nurse nodded.

She asked what she dreaded to hear. “Is he dying?” Olivia’s heart pounded. When Beau entered the room, she grasped his hand tightly.

“Burns are hard on the body. The doctor can answer that question.” The nurse left.

“Oh, Beau, this is my fault. I should have made him come live with me.” She wept. “I should have been there. The nurse said something about his pajamas on fire.” Her throat tightened and she gasped for air. How could she have let this happen?

She reached over and tenderly touched her grandfather’s
unbandaged hand. “Granddad, I’m here. I won’t leave you.”

“He’s sedated,” a man’s voice said from the doorway. “The pain from burns can be overwhelming.”

She glanced in his direction. He’s so young. Is he old enough to be a doctor?

“I’m Dr. Phillips, in charge of the burn unit here. He’s been badly burned. And he’s elderly. The nurse says you mentioned that he has type II diabetes. You’re his granddaughter?”

She nodded.

“Diabetes can slow wound healing. He’ll be more susceptible to infection as a result of that condition.”

She bit her lip to keep from crying out. “When are you going to … when is he not going to be sedated? When will he wake up?”

“We’ll call you.” He began to walk out of the room.

“What happened? Do you know?” she asked, desperate to learn more.

“He was unconscious when he was brought in. I’ll have the firemen who found him talk to you. Your grandfather’s nurse should have their contact number.”

“Thank you.” She felt numb: cold then overheated, ready to pass out from how rapidly her pulse was racing.

Beau stroked her hand. “Olivia, let’s go to the nurse’s station, so you can talk to the EMTs.” He tugged her gently toward the door. “You can come back when he’s awake.”

“I should have been home. I should have been there,” she mumbled as she followed him out of the room.

Minutes later she was weeping in the reception area down the hall. The EMTs had told her what they had found. The condo was damaged, but mostly in the kitchen, they’d said. It looked to be an accident. Beau offered to take her there after the fire investigation had been completed.

Late that afternoon Olivia returned to her grandfather’s hospital room. He was receiving extra oxygen and one hand was moving spasmodically against the sheet.

“Granddad?”

He looked in her direction and smiled, his voice gravelly. “Hello,
Livvy. I guess I had a little accident.”