The Christmas Crush

Chapter 33

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Apart from the granola bar Elena had given him that morning, her eyes soft with a tender concern, Lawrence hadn’t eaten anything all day. A Styrofoam container housing rubbery scrambled eggs from the hospital cafeteria sat unopened on a waiting room end table. Mom attempted to persuade him to eat them, but she gave up when he refused for the third time.

Dad snored in the chair next to him, and Lawrence stared at a rack of brochures advertising various medical services and dire conditions. Since Mom left to run home for a shower, Lawrence hadn’t stirred once from this rigid chair upholstered in scratchy fabric. The muscles in his low back pinched, yet moving to stretch them felt like too much effort. How will Nana afford the copays? If our cookie wins the contest, how long until they give us the money? If I can swing giving Nana back the investment money now, at least I’ll know she doesn’t have to worry about the surgery cost.

Nana needed to use all her energy to heal.

On the wall above the check-in desk, a clock’s hands ticked away. The surgeon quoted a two-hour time frame to add a plate and screws to stabilize Nana’s shattered wrist. Nana had been back in some unseen room for almost three hours, without a single update from the doctor. Lawrence wished Carm’s daughter had gone into surgery instead of general medicine. She would’ve been kind enough to let Nana’s family know what was going on. This surgeon was young, new, and an out-of-towner to boot.

With Elena tied up in her big meeting, Lawrence had nothing to do but stare, and try to avoid looking at an equally worried man a few rows over. The dude kept sighing, raking his hands through his hair, and generally putting Lawrence even further on edge.

The automatic doors to the waiting room glided open, and Trey walked in, his grandpa a step behind. Mr. Simmons clutched a bouquet wrapped in brown butcher paper and tied with string, the hallmark of Pamela’s floral shop.

“Hanging in there, buddy?” Trey asked, taking a seat opposite Lawrence. Grandpa Simmons went up to the receptionist and began loudly questioning Nana’s whereabouts while the poor woman tried to explain HIPAA laws to him.

“I’ll feel better when she wakes up. I want to talk to her.”

“I don’t blame you.” Trey’s attention turned to his grandpa for a second, then back to Lawrence. “Is there something going on between Gramps and Nana? He hunted me down at work and demanded I give him a ride over here. And he’s wearing his best bow tie.”

Amusement twinkled in Lawrence for the first time since Nana’s fall. “You’re late to the game, man. Apparently, he already made her save him a dance for the senior center Christmas Eve ball.”

“No way! Those sly players.” Trey’s dimples—the ones girls had waxed eloquent about since fifth grade—showed.

Lawrence’s mood darkened as quickly as it had lightened. “Looks like there won’t be any dance after all.”

“I know Gramps will ask again next year, and Nana will be feeling much better then.” Trey wriggled out of his winter coat. Lawrence smiled too, relieved to have his best friend with him. “You should’ve seen Gramps at Ms. Pamela’s. Everything had to be just right. He must’ve turned down three bouquets before he found the perfect one. The whole time, he was lecturing me about how I should buy Iris flowers every month for no reason.”

“It’s not bad advice,” Lawrence said, wondering what kind of flowers Elena liked best. He’d give her a field full if he could.

“Obviously, we should all be taking tips from the old man.”

At the desk, Mr. Simmons had switched tactics. He now held his wool fedora over his heart as he made a tragic plea for information. He conjured some old-school charm, calling the young receptionist miss and a nice lady in a gentle, musical voice. She nibbled her bottom lip, eyes darting, and then she offered to check with her supervisor.

“I think he’s about to sweet-talk that woman into getting us an update on Nana, so I’m not complaining.”

“Oh, before I forget, I checked in on Sugar as long as we were out. She should be okay for a couple hours.”

“Yeah, Elena fed her breakfast.”

Trey crossed his arms behind his head, leaned back with a low whistle. “Whew, she’s giving you the girlfriend treatment. Things are heating up all over New Hope.”

“You think so?”

“For sure. You gonna make sure she knows it? Don’t pull a Lawrence and clam up; you need to lock it down.”

“This from the guy who was all suspicious of her not too far back.”

“That was before I got to know her. And before Iris told me I had to like her or else.”

“Iris knows what’s what.” An endorsement from Iris meant a lot, since she didn’t suffer fools gladly. She and Lawrence’s ex-girlfriend Jen had never gotten along.

Bit by bit, the whole town was beginning to see what he already knew.

But destroyed from garbage sleep, no food, and stress, he didn’t know what exactly he’d say to Elena. How he’d tell her he wanted to be exclusive. That might be for the best. If he didn’t have a chance to overthink things, he could enjoy the moment, speak from the heart.

The receptionist escorted Grandpa Simmons to the seating area, tugging uncertainly on her badge lanyard. She looked at Lawrence. “My supervisor told me to let you know the surgeon was held up with a previous patient. Your grandma’s surgery started fifteen minutes ago.”

Lawrence groaned. Why were awful days also the longest?

“Thank you, Miss Molly,” Mr. Simmons said, sitting next to Trey. “You’re a sweetheart. You let us know if anything changes.”

“Thanks, Gramps,” Trey said as Molly walked away.

Lawrence thanked him too, then dug his phone from his coat pocket. His sister Lonnie hadn’t been able to get a flight home yet. He let her and Mom know about the surgeon’s delay on the group thread. How much longer until Elena’s meeting ended? He hoped she’d be able to talk for a quick minute soon. This day had no right to go so slowly.

Yawning, he gazed down at his feet, noticed he had on different-colored socks—one white, one blue. Between that detail, his gray sweatpants, and a T-shirt with holes, he must look as wrecked as he felt.

“You want some coffee, bro? I’m gonna take Gramps down to the cafeteria for one.”

“Sure, Trey. Thanks.”

Lawrence decided to give the brochure rack a break from his concentrated eye contact while he waited for Trey and Gramps to return. Dad snored softly away, sleeping to cope. Lids heavy, Lawrence closed his eyes. This chair had to be the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever built. He was going to need spinal surgery after spending the day crunched up in this miserable thing. Useless. He could never rest in this position.

Desperate for something—anything—to take his mind off Nana, off the image of her hooked up to machines, he stood and opened his email. Carm had been replying to customer orders, bless her. He refreshed his inbox, and an email from Sparkle Cookie appeared on the screen.

Fall in Love With Our Exclusive Flavor , the subject line read.

He had to give it to Elena for managing to stay on top of work and make time for him during the week. She really was remarkable. Pleased by this little connection to her when he needed it most, he clicked on the message.

Be the first in line to taste our Grand Opening Flavor in New Hope, PA.

Exclusive to opening day, everyone who’s anyone will be trying our Gingerbread Latte Cookie. Snap a pic with it and don’t forget the hashtags #iSparkle and #NewHopeNewCookie.

He must’ve made some wounded sound, because his father woke up with a jolt. Alarmed, Dad asked something about Nana he couldn’t quite hear. The screen on his phone had a jagged crack running across it, bisecting it. The screen. He’d snapped it. Blood dripped from a cut on his finger.

A fresh surge of intense fury made him want to hurl his phone against the wall and annihilate it. To sever his link to Elena. She had exploited their relationship to get ahead at work. Cheated him when he’d trusted her with everything, from his heart to his livelihood.

Then he was stalking through the hospital corridors, his fists at his temples, a warm smear of blood from his hand on his face. Outside, no coat, the wind slashed him. But he was already numb. Doubled over.

How could you how could you how could you?

All the things she’d made him feel, all the improbable heights she’d brought him to, just to fling him down to the lowest possible point. Lowest of his life. Desire, lust, admiration, hope, understanding. The first flash of a true love.

And now the cruelest of those galloping, breathless emotions. Sharpened steel, shoved between his ribs, up through his heart.

Betrayal.