Page 9 of Fractured Grief (Hope’s Ridge #2)

Indy

A fter ensuring Seb was okay with the nurse, I cleaned the equipment before leaving for my office and grabbing my notes before the meeting with Judy and the Papadakis’s.

As I was walking out, I almost ran right into the stout woman who was often with Seb’s mom.

“Oh, sorry!” I sidestepped so I didn’t knock her over. She was short but radiated a formidable air. Even though I had to look down at her—she was that short—I felt like I was a bug under a microscope.

She sized me up, her deep copper eyes holding my gaze. “How old are you?” she spoke with a rich accent. “You are working my Seb too hard. We need him to get better, not injure himself more.” She tutted in displeasure.

All I could do was gape at her .

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice timid. This woman was kind of scary. I cleared my throat. “Seb’s doing really well?” I tried to reassure her, but it came out as more of a question.

She tutted again, crossing her arms as she glared at me. “You are supposed to be helping him regain his strength and help his leg. Why is he falling? Why does he always look to be in pain? What are you doing to him?”

Her rapid-fire questions had me flustered, but I’d seen problematic family members throughout my residency, though never encountered one myself.

I could do this. Taking a deep breath, I stood up tall, trying to convey the confidence I usually had, but it seemed to have deserted me in front of this little dynamo of a woman.

“Sorry again. I don’t think we’ve ever been introduced. I’m Indy, and who are you to Seb?” I asked as politely as I could.

She quirked an eyebrow at me. “I’m Seb’s Yaya and need to know you are taking care of him and not pushing him too hard!”

“Ya-ya, well, hello. What’s a yaya?”

A smile finally cracked her intimidating presence. “I’m Seb’s giagiá, that is, grandmother in Greek, and Yaya is what everyone calls me. Now are you going to answer my questions or keep trying to distract me with those doe eyes of yours, hmm?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her. She was fierce but obviously had her grandson’s best interests at heart.

“Okay, so to answer your earlier questions, I’m twenty-five, almost twenty-six.

Seb has made great strides since I’ve been working with him.

I never push him past his capabilities. The reason for his recent pain is a sign of his progress.

He’s having cramps and tingling in his leg, which means we’re stimulating the nerves and improving blood flow to the areas damaged by the stroke.

I know it’s hard to see a loved one go through this, but Seb is getting stronger every day.

” I took a chance and reached out to touch her shoulder in reassurance.

Her smile was sly as she patted my hand on her shoulder.

“I’m glad to hear he’s improving, but I’ve seen you in passing with your patients, and you don’t charm them as well as you’ve charmed my Seb.

Those eyes of yours are quite unique. I’m sure you have gotten Seb to do more than he would have if you weren’t such an attractive little thing. ”

Again, I was flabbergasted. This woman was a firecracker.

“Well, thank ya, kindly,” I said in a fake Southern accent with a little bow.

“I’ll take the compliment, but I assure you I’d never use my charms for evil.

” I winked at her to let her know I was on to her.

She wanted me to know she was watching. That was fine. I took care of my patients.

“Yaya! What are you d-d-oing?” Seb maneuvered his way between us, hair still dripping from the shower he must’ve just had. I wondered how much he’d overheard. “Leave Indy a-alone.”

“It’s okay, Seb,” I patted his shoulder. “Yaya is just looking out for you.”

“She doesn’t n-n-eed to in-t-terrogate y-you. Come on, Yaya. ”

“Don’t take that tone with me, young man,” Yaya clipped Seb on the back of the head. “I have every right to check on the staff in charge of your care. And this pretty young thing has clearly charmed you.”

This woman, wow. I wasn’t sure what to do as I watched Seb and Yaya interact.

Seb looked embarrassed. “Sorry, Yaya.”

“That’s better.” Turning to me, she nodded. “I like you— for now . But I’ll be keeping an eye on you and my Seb.” Her gaze bore into me again as she turned and left me standing there, wondering what had just happened. Seb was still fiddling with his fingers in his lap. I knelt to catch his gaze.

“You, okay? I haven’t charmed you too much, have I?” I added in jest.

Seb seemed flustered. “Ah, may-be. I’m fine,” he huffed out a big breath. “S-sorry about her.”

“It’s no problem. Comes with the territory.” Pausing, I patted his good knee. “You’re lucky to have someone like that in your corner and so much family surrounding you.”

Seb’s eyes twinkled. The green irises were so intense, like a pine forest in spring.

“You seem to h-ave used those afore-m-mentioned charms on her.” His full lips kicked up at the corner with an almost smile, and I relaxed at the sight.

Through his recovery, Seb rarely smiled, but when I could draw one out, I felt like the luckiest guy alive.

“As I told her, I only use my charms for good,” I said with a wink as Seb’s smile grew. “Let’s get you to Judy’s room for the meeting.” I fell into step beside Seb as he wheeled himself to the room.

By the end of the day, I was exhausted and ready for bed, but I had Hazel and housework to do before I could crash. It was only Wednesday. The week had gone by too fast and not fast enough. I was ready for the weekend and to just stop for a moment.

We’d mostly adapted to our townhouse and the area around it, so it was starting to feel familiar, but it still had a long way to go before it would be home. I wasn’t sure it ever would without Lexi.

After dinner and our bedtime routine, Hazel was asleep. She was strong, but I could tell she was still adjusting to her new school.

Grabbing my laptop and a glass of wine, I settled on the couch to finish my notes for Seb’s outpatient care and appointments.

I was cautiously excited that I’d get to keep treating Seb and that he’d opted to keep me on as his physical therapist. I’d have to sign Hazel up for before-school care two days a week, so I’d have time to travel to Seb’s for his home visits.

I’d looked up his hometown of Hope’s Ridge— strange name —and saw it was over an hour away.

If I dropped Hazel off at 7:30 a.m., I’d make it in time for Seb’s Wednesday and Friday 9:00 a.m. appointments.

I took a small measure of pride in Seb’s recovery, as I did with all my patients.

Seb was special. He was my first solo client.

They say you always remember your firsts.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at myself for my juvenile innuendo.

Having yet to experience any of those firsts, I’d taken to collecting other firsts.

It had been my mom and me since I was around Hazel’s age, but I’d lost her not long after my sixteenth birthday.

We had been as close as a confused teenage boy could be with a single mother working two jobs.

We struggled to communicate at the best of times, and I only felt that distance grow when she got more involved in the church and became best friends with Lexi’s mom.

Mrs. Boseman was cold and unyielding, and some of her ways had started to rub off on my mom during her last few months.

I missed her and knew she loved me; she wouldn’t have left me her house, insurance, and helped me get emancipated before she died if she hadn’t, but I often wondered what she’d think of me now.

Would she have disowned me like Lexi’s family had?

I liked to think she wouldn’t have. I’ve tried to keep my earlier memories of her alive when we were closer.

Before I hit puberty and figured out I was gay.

When she’d gotten sick, she’d clung to the church and that religion.

It gave her hope, and I didn’t begrudge her that, but I often wished for my old mom back.

She would’ve been such a wonderful Gramma to Hazel.

It was sad they never got to meet, and I never got to tell her my truth.

Never got to give her the chance to love me unconditionally.

Shaking it off, I refocused on Seb’s notes and finished typing up my plan.

There was an air about Seb that made me feel like I was making a difference.

The fact that he trusted me... Well, it made me proud, but there was something else there, too—an undercurrent of attraction, excitement, and anticipation.

I kept telling myself it was because Seb was my first client, but the more time I spent with him, the more I was drawn in.

I was still thrumming with excited energy after I’d finished Seb’s notes, and my body wouldn’t settle.

It reminded me of times at college, when I’d be so amped up for a test or excited about a practical assignment that I couldn’t calm down.

Lexi had introduced me to all sorts of “calming techniques” and self-care activities, but the one thing that stuck with me was sketching.

I could get lost in a sketch.

Lexi had saved up and bought me a beautiful faux leather-bound drawing journal with my initials embossed on the front. She’d given it to me for my birthday last year, a few months before we lost her.

We used to relax at night, crafting together.

She was whittling, and I was sketching. It became our thing, and just thinking about something we’d never be able to do again brought tears to my eyes.

She’d be so mad at me for letting that creative part of me die with her.

I could almost hear her chastising me in my head and see her drawn-out eye roll.

The journal sat in a place of pride on my bedside table; I hadn’t been able to crack it open.

I resolved to try.

After cleaning and locking up, I headed to my bedroom.

Lexi would want me to keep drawing, and tonight it felt like she was pushing me to do it.

Settling into bed with my favorite pencil set and a shaky hand, I lifted my journal into my lap and opened to the first page.

Lexi had written a message, and my eyes welled as I ran my fingers over her messy scrawl.