23. Ryan

Chapter twenty-three

Ryan

I get off the phone with Granny, after promising her for the tenth time I will be coming home for her birthday, and head over to pick up Don early. Alan and I have our pregame show to do, and all the teams are out with the crowd entertaining them before the game, really building up the hype and it’s what I want him to see, too. I want him to see how amazing it all is, the sport his grandson loves. But when I get to the door, he doesn’t open it.

“Don, are you there?” I call through the door, but he doesn’t reply. He’s probably just in the shower again, I think, so lean against the hall and wait a few minutes before knocking and trying again.

“Don,” I call and then try the handle. It’s not locked, so I push open the door carefully to keep my eyes on the floor to stop Precious should she try to make a run for it.

“Mr. Beaker, it’s time to go. The game will be starting soon,” I call and close the door behind me. It’s oddly quiet, and an uneasy feeling settles in my gut.

“Don, are you in the bathroom?” I call, making my way down the hall towards his room. I don’t like the sinking pit that’s growing inside me. Where is Precious? Even if she was asleep when I came in, there is no way her super hearing wouldn’t have picked up my movement and come out to investigate. What the fuck is going on? I walk past the bathroom. The door is open, and no one is inside. Don’s bedroom door is closed, though, and my stomach flips as I turn the handle. Please no, please God no, I whisper, but when I push it open, he isn’t there. Is the fucker even home?

I check around the room and back through the house. What the fuck? Where are they? I was picking him up, wasn’t I? Kelly was watching the cat, and I was picking up Gramps.

I spot a cup of tea and his binoculars on the windowsill across from my apartment, steam still wafting from the rim. He was here not that long ago . I do another scan of the space. Did Precious get out, shit did she fall from the edge? I rush to the windowsill. I don’t know what I’m expecting to see. It’s not like if the cat did fall it would still be there on the ground. My elbow knocks the binoculars and I scrabble to grab them before they fall, and my eyes land on the bookcase shoved up against the side wall of his living room. It’s covered in photo frames and books and the odd baseball, but it looks like there is a door hidden behind it, too. Probably another closet he doesn’t need. Old places like this loved adding in closet space.

I’m setting the binoculars back on the windowsill when I look up the alleyway down towards the main street, and I spot the bright lights of the stadium.

“It can’t be,” I think, bringing the binoculars up to my eyes. The view from this window is perfect. From here, Gramps’s window looks right through to the diamond, and with the binoculars, I can already see the ground crew setting up for the theatrics tonight. Has he been watching all this time?

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I grab it out, answering immediately when I see Alan’s name.

“Hey, he’s okay, he’s at the hospital though,” Alan says, and my heart is in my throat.

“What happened?”

“Kelly came to watch Precious, and he passed out.”

“Holy shit, but he’s okay?”

“Yeah, he’s okay.”

“Precious isn’t here. I think she might have gotten out.”

“No, she’s okay, too. Kelly has her. He came to when the paramedics got there and refused to leave if Kelly didn’t bag her up and bring her.”

“That would have been interesting.”

“Yeah, she got two stitches getting her into the bowling bag.”

“Fuck. Okay, I’m coming, I’ll be there in five.”

“You don’t have to come. He’s fine. Really.”

“I know. See you soon.”

I hang up before he can argue, close the window, and do a quick sweep of the room. He’ll probably want his own things. Staying in hospital gowns is horrible. But would he want me going through his things? Fuck. Okay, if I do and he flips out, I’ll just bake him a big batch of cobbler. That should win him over.

I collect his slippers, socks, and dressing gown and find a folded pair of pajamas on his bed that he has to have put there after changing this morning. I throw them in a bag, a pair of pants, a shirt, his regular shoes, socks, and the hat he has sitting on his dresser. It looks like a going out-of-the-house hat, not that he goes out of the house often, or at all apparently. He must hate being at the hospital. I grab his toothbrush and comb, and some of Precious’s treats before locking his door behind me and heading over to the hospital.

Turns out they like keeping people’s room numbers private in this place and the woman behind the reception desk shakes her head for the third time.

“I’m sorry, if you aren’t family, I can’t.”

“I’m his grandson’s…partner,” I say, and her eyebrows rise a little.

“Oh, sorry, yes, okay, well, umm, Mr Beaker is in M, two one five.” She suddenly looks confused.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes. It’s just that’s our pet therapy ward.”

“That sounds right,” I reply, and she shrugs and points towards the hallway to my right.

“Take the elevator to the second floor, then follow the signs to section M, bed fifteen.”

“Thank you,” I reply, heading for the elevator. I pass the nurses’ station at the doors to section M, strolling past like I own the place, and when I turn the corner, following the signs for bed fifteen, I see him. Alan resting against the corridor wall, his head down, shoulders slumped like the whole world has fallen on him.

“I’m here,” I say, dropping the bag beside his feet and wrapping him in my arms. “Did he…did something?”

“No,” he gets out before his arms pull me in tighter and his head buries into the crook of my neck.

I stay in the hallway, holding him, just standing there, breathing with him, letting him hold on for as long as he needs, and then the door to the room beside him opens, and Kelly steps out.

“Oh Ryan, thank god you’re here,” she says, wrapping her arms around us both. “He’s been asking for you.”

“He has?” I ask, and Alan lets me go, though the way his face is so drawn, so tired and so sad, all I want to do is pull him close again and hold him until all of his joy and color returns.

“He was worried about you,” she goes on to say.

“About me, why?”

“He knew you were coming to get him and he thought you might hurt yourself trying to check on him again.”

“Oh, well, I mean, I would have, but the door was unlocked this time,” I say, and Kelly covers her mouth with her hand.

“Oh god, don’t tell him that, please.”

“No worries, I’ll say I got the super to unlock it.”

“Oh good, that will work.”

“Where is Precious?” I ask, and she nods towards the room.

“I can’t believe they let him bring her in here.”

“In the bowling bag in the room. I brought her in my car while the paramedics drove him here, but when he found out I left her in the car to come inside to check on him, he had a meltdown. He’s got top-level insurance and always has, so they suggested moving him to the pet therapy ward to get him to calm down, but he had to promise she would stay in the bag. He’s fine. Did Alan tell you he stopped taking his heart meds?”

“What? No. Seriously, why would he do that?” I ask, and Alan shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He looks so tired. We should have gotten more sleep last night.

“He was feeling better ,” Alan says, using air quotes when he says it. “Who needs meds when you have good old-fashioned home cooking.”

“He seriously did not say that.”

“Fraid so,” Alan says, and I feel the heat rising to my face.

“Right, well best I be filling the old codger in on how many home-cooked meals he’s going to get if he ever pulls this shit again,” I say, and Alan laughs, and it’s the first time since I walked in this place that he looks like himself.

“Oh, I’ve gotta see this,” Kelly says and holds open the door for us both to go in first.

The fire in me settles a little when I see Don in the hospital bed. He’s got wires sticking out the top of his gown attached to a monitor at the side and he looks old, like really old. Older than he ever really looked, anyway.

“Ahh, young Mr Tanner,” he starts, but I interject before I lose my cool to say anything. I respect my elders, and I love my granny to bits, but what Don did was just plain stupid and careless and I can’t stand what it’s done to Alan, and he has to know that.

“Nope. You just listen. Now, Mr Beaker, I just heard that you decided that home cooking was better for you than the medication they prescribed to keep your heart working properly.”

He goes to open his mouth, but the blush to his cheeks begins to darken, and he closes it and purses his lips a little without replying.

“Now you listen here. I will not be cooking even a scrap of anything for you if you ever pull this shit again. And yes, I said shit, because what you’ve gone and done here is so far beyond politeness. Look at these two. What you did to them. Now sure, you’re old and one day we are going to have to say goodbye one last time, but no way in hell or high water will it be because you decided to do something stupid.”

“I felt better,” he says, and I shake my head.

“Ever think that was because you were on the meds and getting good food?”

He frowns, like that thought never occurred to him.

“Well, now I can see that I may have been wrong.”

Kelly steps up beside the bed.

“Wait, what did you say?”

“You heard me,” he replies.

“Nope, don’t think I did,” she repeats, and he shakes his head and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly like he’s trying to prolong the inevitable.

“I was wrong.”

“Yep, got it,” she cheers, tapping her phone.

“What are you doin’ there?” he asks.

“I recorded it. Needed proof. No way are Nial and Dean ever going to believe you said that.”

“Cheeky girl.”

“Love you, too, Gramps,” she says, then Gramps spots the bag in my hands.

“What have you got there?”

“I grabbed a few of your things. I wasn’t sure how long you would be staying.”

“Oh no, I’m not staying. I have a game to get to.”

“Gramps, it’s okay. You can come another time. You really should—”

“The doctor said an hour for observation. I was only off the meds for a week. They say the meds will start doin’ their thing again in an hour or so. I’ll be good to go. I just need to get Precious her treats so she has something to eat.”

“Oh, I grabbed those, too,” I say, handing Kelly the bag.

“Nice, then I guess you will be all set,” she replies. “I can drop him to the game when he’s cleared. You two better get going or you’ll miss your opening number.”

“I don’t know,” Alan says, and I reach over and take his hand.

“If you want to stay, you can, we can. They can just skip our number. The OG’s have their thing planned, anyway. The crowd won’t mind.”

“Like hell,” Gramps interjects. “You said you wanted to whoop these fellas, and that starts as soon as the gates open. Off you go. I’ll be there before the first pitch is thrown. Kelly, go find that young doctor of mine. It’s time we got me out of this joint.”

“If you’re sure,” Alan says, reaching over with his free hand and laying it over his grandfathers’. It’s the first time I’ve seen them have any contact, and Don’s eyes move to where their hands touch, then he lays his free hand over the top sandwiching Alan’s hand between his.

“I’m positive. Go. I’ll see you soon.”

We leave the room, and Kelly walks with us to the nurses’ station.

“Fucking hell, that was scary,” she says when we are far enough away from earshot of Don.

“Are you okay?” I ask, and she nods and smiles, her gaze moving between Alan and me.

“He’s a good man,” she says to Alan, and he nods and looks at me.

“I know. He’s the best.”

“I’ll let you know if they want to keep him longer, but the doc did say he could go soon, so I’ll get him checked out and I’ll text you when we’re there, I might even come in and watch, I still have my ticket, okay?”

“They won’t let the cat in,” Alan warns, and Kelly laughs.

“I got it into the bowling bag once, I can do it again. Fingers crossed they don’t ask to look in the bag or they might be the ones headed to the hospital,” she says, holding up her hand and the fresh two stitches, and we leave her to it.

I drive the short distance to the stadium and park the car.

“He’s been watching all along,” I say, and Alan turns in the chair towards me.

“What?”

“Your gramps. His window has a perfect view of the stadium and with those binoculars, he can see the diamond.”

“He watches people from the window like a creepy busybody,” Alan objects, but I shake my head.

“I saw it today. When I was at his place. From his chair by the window, he can watch it all. And you heard him just now. He wants to come. He wants to watch you.”

“But why now?”

“Maybe he regretted saying no and was waiting for you to ask again so he could say yes.”

“You think?”

“He’s always at that window when I get home on game nights.”

“He is?”

“He is.”

Alan’s smile grows wider and the weight bearing down on him lifts just a little.

“Thank you for coming,” he says, reaching over and placing his hand on my thigh. I will never get sick of the way my body reacts to even the slightest of his touches. Heat floods to the spot, vibrations reverberating from under his hand through my body, right to my groin. And then he leans in and kisses me, and I want to sink into him, but the flash of a camera pulls us apart.

“What was that?” he asks, and I look out the front windscreen of the car where a guy holding up his phone clicks again.

“Shit,” Alan says, holding his hand up to the side of his face to try to shield himself from view. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry.”

I reach over and take his hand, pulling it down, then I lean in close.

“I’m not sorry,” I say, and then I kiss him again.