“Mommy, I think it’s time you admit that Mr. Graham and you love each other.” Crap. The one time I don’t need my son to be ridiculously smart in the way of books or common sense, he does.
“You’re right, kiddo, but maybe we’ll tell your mom all about that later on. Why don’t you sit back down for a few minutes and let me get a hug from her?” Graham hugs my son, even though I see his grimace when Logan’s head lands on his chest. My eyes zero in on the movement, trying to get down to the nitty gritty on what is physically wrong with Graham.
“Okay, don’t forget to marry her. Mommy deserves to be a queen.” Melt my heart, that’s what Logan does on the daily.
“I’ll get right on that. I’m thinking she might have something to say to me for being in the hospital first, though.” Logan nods his head then moves to his chair beside me. Graham stands up from the wheelchair, albeit gingerly. I’m standing near him, afraid of what he’s about to tell me but also relieved that he’s standing on his own.
“Come here, Faith. I’m okay, I promise.” Two steps are all it takes, then Graham’s hand is going to his spot, the nape of my neck, tipping my head up so our eyes are on one another’s.
“Where are you hurt?” My hands reach for his chest but pause.
“One in the chest near my heart, two in the stomach. I was wearing my Kevlar. They just wanted to take some precautions and are waiting on X-rays, then I’ve got to write up a statement.” My head tips upward as I rapidly blink away tears, not wanting them to fall.
“Oh God, Graham.” I get nothing else out because he wraps me up in his arms, tightly, softly cooing sweet nothings into my ear, calming me all the same.
“I’m okay. We’re okay. Looks like you might be taking my name sooner than later. Going to marry you, adopt Logan as my own, and make all your dreams come true, Faith.” This time, there’s no stopping the tears or the way I burrow my face into the side that’s uninjured. This crying jag is not pretty, it’s the ‘if you were wearing mascara, it’d be streaming down your cheeks’ ugly crying, but also the girl who only had herself and her son for so many years is finally okay to let someone in.
“Okay, I’m fine, just needed to get that out of the way.” I smear my tears on his shirt, causing Graham and Logan to laugh at my antics.
“That’s good because the doctor will be here in a few minutes.” Graham wipes my tears from my face, kisses me lightly. I don’t move the entire time. I’m right where I want and need to be.
Sixteen
Graham
Not being able to go home with Faith and Logan last night sucked, but if I hadn’t taken care of the report, it would have ruined the rest of the weekend. Plus, I’m on desk duty now for the next week after being shot at, leaving me with a bruised chest and stomach, along with a broken rib, which I didn’t know until the X-ray showed it. Not that it was my first time being shot at. It is the first time it mattered, though. If I could have shielded Faith from hearing the doctor go over everything, I would have. She wasn’t budging from her spot at my side. I was only glad Faith thought ahead enough to bring noise-cancelling headphones to keep Logan from overhearing things.
I push back away from my desk after typing up what seems to be a fifty-page document on how everything happened throughout the day. It’s nothing I’m not used to. Half of my job is paperwork, the other is doing what I love and helping the people in our community. But it was different throughout the night, especially since I haven’t seen sleep in almost twenty-four hours.
“I’m out of here, Joe. Won’t be back in for a few days unless things go sideways again.” God, I pray they don’t. Being on desk duty means I can do the majority of my work from Faith’s house and at least give her and Logan my undivided attention.
“Get outta here. We shouldn’t need you. I’m sure Faith knows all kinds of things to help nurse you back to health.”
“I sure hope so, though a hot shower and some sleep wouldn’t hurt, either,” I tell him honestly. Then all I want to do is pile up with my family and fucking breathe for a few minutes.
“Then get out of here.” He claps my shoulder once I’ve closed my computer and am standing beside my desk, trying my hardest to leave, but it seems Joe is ready to sit around and cackle like hens.