“Is that safe to ride when it’s raining?” I ask him, and he smiles.
“You worried about me?”
“No,” I lie, and his smile turns into a grin that makes my stomach flutter.
“We’ll get there, Dimples,” he retorts, and my stomach dances again as he reaches out, touching my chin before turning on his boots and heading down the steps, calling “go back to bed, Gia” over his shoulder.
“Don’t call me Dimples and don’t tell me what to do, Colton,” I tell his back as he walks across the yard to his bike. Leaning against the doorjamb with my arms crossed over my chest, I watch him put on his helmet then straddle the seat before he starts up the engine.
“Inside, Gia. Get out of the cold,” he yells over the rumble of his bike.
Rolling my eyes, I pull myself off the door and go inside, closing it behind me only to lift up on my tiptoes and watch him take off through the peephole wishing I had a better view. Once he’s out of sight, I go back to my bedroom, turn off the light, take off my sweater, and lie back down. Looking at the ceiling, I wonder if it’s safe for him to ride in the rain. Then I wonder if he might get pneumonia from riding in the rain. Then wonder again if it’s safe for him to be on his bike when the roads are wet.
Grabbing my cell phone, I type up a quick text message then let my fingers hover over the send key before deciding I won’t be able to sleep unless I know he got home okay. Hearing my cell phone beep twenty minutes later, I pick it up and stare at the screen and his message.
Home safe. Glad to see you’re still thinking about me.
“So arrogant,” I growl, dropping the phone to my stomach only to pick it up a second later just to type, Whatever. Goodnight. Turning off the ringer so I’m not tempted to look at it if it beeps again, I set the phone on my nightstand then roll to my side. Pulling the covers up over my shoulder, I eventually fall asleep, but when I do, I dream about a gorgeous guy with dark hair and eyes, whisking me away on his motorcycle.
~**~
The next morning I watch Grandma lying on her back with her head disappearing into the CAT scan machine. I hold my breath when she starts to lift her hand, but then relax when she rests it back at her side. She didn’t want to do this test. She was adamant about not doing it, but the doctor, Nina, and I eventually got her to agree that she needed it done.
During our appointment with the doctor, she looked Grandma over then listened as Nina and I told her about what’s been going on about her being more confused lately and her thinking I’m my mom, her daughter who passed away years ago. I could tell the doctor was concerned, but knew that even more when she told us she was ordering a CAT scan.
I continue to watch through the glass, my eyes going from Grandma to the clock on the wall. The doctor said the whole thing would take less than ten minutes, and thankfully, she didn’t lie. Getting a thumbs-up from the technician letting me know he’s done, I head back into the room alone, since Nina stepped out to call Ned.
“You can go ahead and help her get dressed. The doctor will be calling you with the results within the next couple of days.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, taking Grandma’s clothes over to where she’s now sitting wearing nothing but a hospital gown.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it, Grandma?” I ask her as I help her out of the gown.
“I guess not,” she says, and I notice her hands are shaking again like they always do when she’s freaked about something that is happening.
“Do you feel like stopping to get lunch on the way home?” I ask wanting to distract her.
“Sure.”
“What do you feel like eating?”
“Cake,” she answers, then adds, “Chocolate cake.”
“You want to have cake for lunch?” I smile, helping her with her bra and sweater.
“Why not?”
“You’re right. Why not?” I reply quietly, helping her sit again so I can get on her shoes. Once she’s dressed, I take her hand and walk her over to the door.
“How did it go?” Nina asks as soon as we step into the hallway.
“Good. We should hear from the doctor in a couple days,” I tell her, and she looks relieved. “Thanks again for coming with us.”
“Anytime, dear’.” She reaches toward me, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze before letting it go. That small gesture makes me love her all the more.
“Grandma wants chocolate cake for lunch,” I inform her as we exit the hospital.