Page 9 of Finding Home (Willow Valley #1)

NINE

EVERETT

A fter Chloe leaves, I make my way over to the guys, who are still gathered around the table with the tins of cookies.

“Thompson,” I call. He and the rest of the guys face me.

“Yeah, Chief?”

“You’re on rig washing duty.”

He opens his mouth slightly, looking stunned. “They were just washed before Labour Day weekend.”

I settle into my stance, feet shoulder-width apart and arms crossed over my chest, not budging one bit. “I said they need to be washed again. You can ask for help, but you’re in charge of making sure they’re spotless.”

He clamps his mouth shut and stares at me.

I know this isn’t going to earn me any good will here, but at the moment, I’m grappling with feelings I don’t even want to voice to myself, and he’s the cause of them.

I see a cookie left in one of the tins and reach through the group of men, grab it, and walk to my office, making sure the door is closed behind me.

Settling in my chair, I take a bite of the cookie, and this time I don’t hold back my moan of pleasure, because this is one of the best fucking cookies I’ve ever had.

I’m not a sweets person. I don’t seek them out, but when Chloe handed me that cookie, there was no way I was going to turn it down.

I accepted it to appease her, but the second I took that first bite, I wanted more .

I don’t know how I was able to eat the damn thing with the knots my stomach was in after watching her laughing and dancing with Ryder fucking Thompson.

I only know the man as much as what’s in his file, but seeing him that close to her and the way she looked utterly at ease ate at me.

And I know I can’t get into a relationship with her.

No way. I don’t have the time, and I don’t need another person in my life who needs me.

I have enough shit to deal with. I don’t need some woman who’s going to want my time and energy right now.

The more I see her interact with other men in this town, the more pissed off I get. I know I have no fucking right to. I wonder what she’d say if I asked her for another night together. No strings, just getting it out of our systems.

I shake my head, because that’s a ridiculous thought.

I’m a grumpy bastard, only grunting responses at the men for the rest of my shift. When I show up at Grandma’s, the first thing she asks is, “What crawled up your ass and died?”

I shake my head, because of course not only did she know within seconds of seeing me that I’m in a foul mood, but she had to ask it like that.

“Nothing,” I grunt, and she rolls her eyes. “Lila ready?” I ask.

“She was just finishing putting her bag together.”

I nod and sit on the couch to wait for my little girl.

As soon as she comes down the hallway and yells, “Daddy,” I’m grinning and opening my arms for her. She steps into them, and I kiss the top of her head.

“Hi, Peanut. How was your day with Grandma?”

She smiles up at me. “It was fun. We made cookies and played dice and we watched Tangled .”

“Again?”

She nods vigorously. “Yeah. It’s my favourite, Daddy.”

“Okay. Well, say thank you to Grandma, we’re gonna head home.”

She gives her hugs and grabs her bag, heading outside to the truck.

I’m so glad that in such a short time she’s grown close to Grandma.

I was worried it may take some time for her to warm up.

Lila isn’t trusting of everyone. She guards herself, and I get it, but I was hoping they’d have a good relationship.

I kiss Grandma’s cheek and say, “Thank you for everything. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“Of course. I’ll see you then.”

Tuesday morning, I’m at Grandma’s at eleven sharp, and she’s ready to go, even though I’m early.

I know it’s likely from her anxiety about this appointment.

I have no idea how this is going to go. I’ve never dealt with a family member being sick this closely.

When Grandpa first got sick, Renee had just found out she was pregnant and wouldn’t come to Willow Valley and begged me not to leave her by herself, so I stayed with her.

When he passed, Lila was barely one year old and Renee still wouldn’t come out.

She made me think I’d be a bad parent if I came for just a few days and left her and Lila back at home.

I resented Renee for that. I made the trip for the funeral, driving in and leaving the following day.

I think her initially refusing to come when we first found out and not letting me come really sat in the back of mind and is a big reason I never proposed to her.

I couldn’t see myself marrying someone who would hold me back from the people I loved that way.

As we make the drive to West Bridgejaw, music plays softly in the truck as Grandma tells me about the girl she hired to work at Willowwares, the knickknack store she owns in town.

She has it full of different souvenirs and even useful items. It’s constantly buzzing with people in the summer.

Locals will stop in to either just chat with Grandma or to grab whatever new item she’s brought in.

When we arrive at her oncologist’s office, we make our way inside and get her checked in. We’re both quiet as we sit in the waiting room, watching other people who are waiting or leaving the office. Sitting here, I look around at the others in the room.

A woman who can’t be much older than me is sitting across from us.

She’s wearing a silk scarf wrapped around her head as she reads a book.

A man is sitting beside her, scrolling his phone, sometimes tilting the screen to show her something, and she smiles at him.

She seems almost happy as they sit here doing their own thing, waiting for whoever they’re here to see.

A man sits on the other side of the room in a wheelchair. An oxygen canister is attached to the back of the chair, and he’s wearing a nasal cannula. I can see how much of a toll the disease has taken on him. He looks tired as he closes his eyes and sits by himself.

It’s like we’re sitting at three different stages of the disease, the newly diagnosed, the in treatment and living life as much as possible, and the end, where you feel like it’s taken everything from you. Your energy, your life.

I don’t want to think about what stage Grandma will be leaving here in today. I don’t know if this is the start of what could be a quick and relatively easy treatment process, or if this is going to be years and years of fighting.

“Mrs. Simpson,” a nurse in light-blue scrubs calls, pulling me out of my deep thoughts. Grandma and I follow her through the double doors and down the plain hallway into a room on the right. There’s nothing comforting about this place. The colours are all bland, and everything looks so sterile.

We settle into the chairs and wait for the doctor. Neither of us say anything. I’m not a big talker in general, but I have no idea what to say right now.

After a few minutes, a tall man who looks to be in his fifties walks in. He offers Grandma a smile, and she smiles back.

“Welcome back, Mrs. Simpson. Who do we have with you here today?”

“My grandson, this is Everett.”

I offer the doctor my hand, and we shake before he settles on a rolling stool and pulls something up on the computer.

“Okay. So, like we discussed last time, you have breast cancer. We caught it early, and I’m positive about the outcome. That being said, cancer is not a small thing. We’re going to take every precaution we can to make sure you get healthy and beat this thing.”

I relax in my seat slightly, knowing that the doctor is optimistic about her outcome .

“For your age, I’d recommend a mastectomy before we proceed with chemotherapy. We’d perform the surgery and wait for you to recover before we start treatment. You’ll need some help after the surgery. You won’t be able to lift heavy items, and you’ll need a lot of rest.”

The doctor continues, and I pay less attention than I should.

My mind is already figuring out ways I can make her life easier and help her through the next few months.

I know she’s not going to be able to pick up and watch Lila after school once she has the surgery and starts her chemo sessions.

I also know she won’t move in with us or let us move in with her to take care of her.

She’s going to want to remain as independent as possible, meaning we’ll have to go over for visits and make sure he has everything.

When the doctor finishes, he provides an information package and says his office will be in touch to schedule the surgery. I shake his hand and lead Grandma back out to my truck before we make the drive back to Willow Valley.