Unveiled(77)
After a good few seconds have passed and Miller still hasn’t started his car, I finally pluck up the courage to face him. I smile brighter. “Chop-chop.”
He barely contains his recoil. “Livy, what…”
I reach up and push my fingertips to his lips, immediately shutting him up. “No them, Miller,” I start, tracing my way to his throat when I’m certain he’ll let me continue without interruption. His Adam’s apple rolls under my touch when he gulps. “Just us.” I smile and watch as his eyes narrow in uncertainty, his head moving from side to side slowly. Then he returns my smile with a small one of his own and takes my hand to his mouth and kisses it tenderly.
“Us,” he confirms, broadening my smile. I nod my thanks and reclaim my hand, getting comfortable in the leather seat, my head dropped back, my eyes staring up at the ceiling. I do an incredible job of centering my thoughts on one thing and one thing alone.
Nan.
Seeing her lovely face, listening to her spunky words, feeling her squidgy body when I take her in a fierce hug, and relishing the time I’ll get to spend with her while she’s recovering. It’s my job. No one else’s. No one else gets the pleasure of all of those things. Just me. She’s mine.
“For now I’ll respect your request,” Miller muses as he turns the engine over, and I look out the corner of my eye to see him doing exactly the same to me. I quickly divert my stare forward, ignoring his words and his look, which tells me I’m not going to be basking in ignorance for long. I know this, but for now I have the perfect distraction and I’m going to throw myself into it completely.
* * *
The hospital is horribly hot and stuffy, but crazily a source of calm. My feet march on with resolve, like my body has cottoned on to my ploy and is assisting me in reaching the object of my distraction plan without delay. Miller hasn’t said a word since we pulled away from the Society. He’s left me to my thoughts, which have been blocking anything that may tarnish the elation I’m depending on once I lay my eyes on my grandmother. His palm is wrapped securely around my nape as he walks beside me, his finger kneading softly into my flesh. I love how he knows what I need, and I need this. Him. And Nan. Nothing else.
We round the corner into Cedar Ward, and I immediately hear the distant cackling of Nan, making that elation I was depending on soar. My pace picks up, eager to make it to her, and when I enter the bay of beds where I know her to be, every lost piece of me clicks right back into place. She’s sitting in her chair, fully dressed in her Sunday best, with her huge carpetbag resting on her lap. And she’s hooting bursts of laughter at the TV. I relax under Miller’s hold and stand watching her for the longest time, until her old navy eyes pull from the screen and find me. They’re all watery from her laughter, and she reaches up and brushes the hysterical tears away from her cheeks.
Then her smile disappears and she scowls at me, making my delight run and hide and my happy heart quicken, but now in worry. Does she know something? Is it written all over my face? “About time!” she squawks, aiming the remote control at the screen and zapping it off.
Her harshness restores that happiness in a second, and my fears that she may know something is off disappear. She must never know. I refuse to risk her health further. “I’m a half hour early,” I say, taking Miller’s wrist and lifting it to look at his watch. “They said four.”
“Well, I’ve been sitting here getting a numb arse for the past hour.” She frowns. “Have you cut your hair?”
“Just a trim.” I reach up and pat it down.
She goes to stand, and Miller disappears from my side quickly, taking the bag from her and offering his hand. She pauses and looks up at him, her irritation being replaced with an impish grin. “Such a gentleman,” she gushes, laying her wrinkled hand in Miller’s. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Miller replies, bowing as he helps her up. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Taylor?”
“Perfect,” she answers surely, steadying herself on her feet. She’s not perfect at all; she’s a little wobbly on her feet, and Miller’s quick flick of his eyes to me tells me he’s noticed it, too. “Take me home, Miller. I’ll make you beef Wellington.”
I scoff my thoughts on that and glance to my right when the ward nurse appears with a paper bag. “Your grandmother’s medication.” She smiles as she hands it to me. “Your grandmother knows what pills and when, but I also went over it with her son.” The nurse blushes.
“Her son?” I blurt out, my eyes widening.