Yes, I understood about being married and that she really loved Jamie and would never want to be disloyal to him. But look at all she’d done for him—making sure that he had the best care money could buy, working all the hours God gave her and then some just to keep her insurance and pay the bills. She hadn’t bought so much as a pair of shoes since I’d known her. For Grace, even a latte was a splurge because everything she did, she did for Jamie. Shouldn’t that be enough? Did loving Jamie mean that she had to sacrifice even the possibility of happiness for herself? After all, it wasn’t like Luke had made an indecent proposal; all he wanted to do was take her dancing. What was so terrible?
The last person who made an indecent proposal to me was Vince. And that was before the wedding. The day we said “I do” was the day the honeymoon was over. At least she had somebody interested, somebody nice. Grace needed to lighten up.
“So . . . when you say you never want to see him or hear from him again, that means you don’t want to go dancing with him either? I’m just trying to get some clarity here.”
“Monica, you’re not as funny as you think you are.”
“Oh, come on, Grace. Don’t be like that. Do you want me to say I’m sorry? Okay, fine. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. But I was only trying to help. You’ve been alone for so—”
“I have to go.”
“What? You’re going to hang up on me just because I told Luke where and when you take your coffee break?”
“No, I’m going to hang up because I have so much work to do that I’ll be lucky to get out of here before midnight. But if I needed a reason to hang up on you, the Starbucks stalking incident would be a pretty good one.”
“So . . . are you going to be mad at me forever?”
“Not that long.”
“How long? A year? A month? A fortnight? I need specifics.”
“Seriously, Monica. I have to go.”
“Okay. But before you—”
There was a click, then a dull buzz. I took the phone away from my ear and stared at it.
“She hung up on me.”
Alex pulled out his earbuds. “Are you surprised? She said she was going to.”
“You were listening?”
“Well, it was kind of hard not to. I only paid ten bucks for these,” he said, holding up the earbuds. “It’s not like they block everything. Plus—nothing personal—but you talk kind of loud.”
“Well,” I said, feeling defensive. “It comes from spending so much time in the kitchen. I’m always shouting orders.”
“Yeah.” Alex sighed deeply and faced front, suddenly intent on the road.
“What?” He said nothing. “I’m serious. What were you going to say?”
“It’s just that . . . at the restaurant, you’re the chef, the boss. You shout an order and everybody goes running to carry it out.”
“So what? That’s my job. Somebody has to be in charge.”
“Right. I get that.” He bobbed his head to prove it was true. “But the whole world isn’t the restaurant.”
“So you’re saying I’m pushy?”
He shrugged. I could see he was trying to tread carefully.
“I’m saying that when you have an idea, you go for it. Sometimes that’s a good thing. But not always. Sometimes it’s better to give people some space.”
Before I could comment or question further, he put the buds back in his ears, listening to his music, leaving his words to sink in, giving me space.
I could have smacked him for it.
Chapter 17
Grace
“It’s been four days and I’m still ticked at Monica,” I said, then gently but firmly pulled Jamie’s left arm out from under his chin, pried open his clenched fist, and started to massage his hand.
Severe muscle tightness is one of the many problems patients in a persistent vegetative state suffer from. During my visits, I did what I could to stretch Jamie’s limbs and massage his muscles, and to change his position in bed. The staff at Landsdowne was very diligent about doing the same, and I credited their devotion for having helped Jamie avoid painful and potentially dangerous bedsores.
Helping with the exercises made me feel I was doing something tangible to keep Jamie comfortable and as healthy as possible. Also, it helped pass the time during our visits, gave me something to focus on when my conversation was met by silence and Jamie’s disconnected stare.
I uncurled his fingers, one by one, then made a fist and used my knuckles to massage his palm, imagining his response to my comments regarding Monica. He was always so measured in his reactions, so ready to forgive.
“I know, I know. She meant well. You’re right. I should forget about it and move on. But I’ve never been as good about that as you are, Jamie. Do you know that sometimes, I used to get mad because you never did?” I smiled, anticipating his answer. “Stupid, right? I know.
“You’re right. I’ll phone Monica later. Honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t called me before now—four days without hearing from her is practically a record. It’s been kind of a relief, though. No, not because we haven’t talked, but because I’ve been too busy to talk. Or do anything. Even visit you.
“That’s what really has me so upset,” I said, working my fingers over his, massaging each digit. “All I want is to take care of you, but the only way to do that is to work so hard that I don’t even have time to see you. How messed up is that?
“I’m so glad Gavin is leaving for his conference tomorrow. He’ll be out of the office for
