“Walking out the door now. You want to stay on the phone in case the doctor comes in before I get there? I hate that our champ is going through this.”
“That would be nice. Here, I’ll hand Logan the phone. Thanks, Graham.” I’m thankful I keep my wallet in the car, so all I have to do is walk out and get in my government-issued Tahoe, and I’m not above using the lights to reach them faster.
“Mr. Graham, did you hear the news?” Logan’s little voice comes on over the phone, excitement in his tone.
“I sure did. I’m about five minutes away. Why don’t you hold your momma’s hand for a minute? I’m thinking she could use some of that right about now,” I tell him, knowing Faith is probably trying to hold herself together.
“Okay, I will.” He prattles on, talking about how he can hear the sirens through the phone line, and we don’t hang up until I’m walking into the emergency room.
Five
Faith
Thank God Graham got here when he did. Logan was his usual happy-go-lucky self at first. Me, not so much. I’m ten seconds away from passing out when Graham must read the sign. One of his hands is in Logan’s, the other in mine. He’s also blocking the view of what’s happening on Logan’s forehead just inside his hairline. They thought they could use stitches but then switched to staples. The strong, never-let-the-wind-out-of-her-sails Faith Bridges is nowhere to be seen when Logan’s lower lip starts quivering and big alligator tears are dripping from his eyes. There’s no amount of coaxing him to calm down, until Graham gets him talking about Legos, tells him how he took the day off in his gentle voice, that just as soon as we’re out of here, the two of them are going to finish their project.
“Last one. You ready for it?” Graham asks Logan as the doctor works on him.
“You betcha. Think we can get an ice cream after this?” Logan starts to wiggle, but Graham redirects his attention.
“I think that is definitely in the cards. What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream, champ?” My eyes swoop towards Graham’s calm demeanor. The way I’ve pushed him away is probably unforgivable in his eyes, and yet here he is. One frantic phone call, me losing my shit silently, almost throwing up, and here comes Graham to the rescue. I clearly need my head examined. If I called Lily, she would tell me it’s time to get back in the saddle. It’s so easy for other people to say, but when you’ve been a single mom as long as I have, there’s this deep-seated fear that the moment you let said person into your life, into your child’s life, they’ll walk away, leaving not only you but your child with this huge gaping wound in the middle of your chest. That’s why this thing between Graham and me have me rocking on my heels in nothing but apprehension.
“Vanilla with sprinkles, and sometimes, if I’m extra nice, Mom and I will get a banana split. That’s rare, though. We have to save our pennies.” Leave it to Logan to rat me out about being frugal with our money. Graham’s eyes narrow on mine. He attempts to say something, but I return my attention to the doctor.
“You are all set, Logan. I’m going to leave your mom with instructions on how to keep an eye on your head.” He puts the gun in the sharps area container, takes off his gloves, and then reaches for the laptop that’s placed on the counter.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
“No problem. It’s always a pleasure seeing the Sheriff and to help a fellow Cherry Falls resident out. Here are the papers we talked about, as well as the antibiotics he’ll need to be on.” Logan is on concussion protocol, which means if Legos start to irritate him, it’s time to rest, the tablet is completely off the table for the first few days, and schoolwork will be even worse.
“Thanks, Doc.” This comes from Graham. I stand up to help Logan off the table. Graham, being a man of many talents, holds the papers from the doctor and is already there to help Logan, then we’re walking out like we’re one big happy family. And the way Graham lifted him in his arms, carrying my son like he’s his own, melts that ice around my heart by the minute.
Six
Graham
Logan didn’t hang like he usually would. Which I figured would happen. Faith’s eyes were on alert and watching for any signs of him getting worse. Hell, so was I, worried like fuck something could go wrong with him.
The best thing I did was stop to get the makings for banana splits at the grocery store, as well as some food for dinner. We all had a plate of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans shortly after Logan and I added a few more pieces to his buildings, then it was ice cream time. That’s when things settled down. Between those times, Faith would lock eyes with me, watching how I spent time with Logan, giving him my undivided attention. My phone thankfully not ringing off the hook helped out tremendously.