Henrietta Brown:Probably. Or she’s just weird. I’d try to dig, but I realized a long time ago that you can’t help a woman who doesn’t want to be helped.
Marjorie Brown:Or I wanted Henry to be concerned about me. It’s nice to be appreciated.
Henrietta Brown:Oh, for the love of GOD. We have full-time jobs and you’re still a menace!
“I’msosorry,”Grace said from the toilet bowl. “I hate that I?—”
She retched again, cutting off whatever she was about to say. I’d already cleaned up what had happened on the stairs while she ran to the bathroom, and now I needed to know she was okay.
Grace had looked pale when she’d gotten up from her nap. I’d told myself that it was because of what happened the day before.
I needed to trust my gut more often.
“It’s okay,” I said. “It really is.”
“I must look so gross.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I replied. “How are you feeling?”
“Terrible,” she said. “Awful.”
“Here, I can?—”
“No, I’m fine. You don’t need to come in here and see this.”
My jaw clenched. “But?—”
“Seriously, please don’t.”
That was the last thing she said before she went back to throwing up, but there was nothingtothrow up. She was paler than I’d ever seen her and her skin looked clammy. And now she wouldn’t let me get close enough to see anything else.
Grace seemed determined to handle this on her own, but I didn’t know if I could take it. I wasn’t the one going through it, but it felt like a part of me was. I’d been like this with Mom many times, and I knew I would need to ask for forgiveness, not permission, once again.
Gracewasgetting taken care of, whether she liked it or not.
“Be right back,” I said. She only gave me a thumbs-up from the toilet bowl, but she was visibly shaking.
Hey, is your boyfriend working today?
I regretted the text as soon as I sent it. But Wren didn’t waste time before answering.
Wren
Do I even wanna know?
Grace is sick.
Shit. Yeah, take her in like right now.
She attached Henry’s number.
I’ll keep you updated. Thanks.
Grace had made it clear she wanted to handle this on her own. I was going to make it clear that I wasn’t that kind of man.
When I called the clinic, I expected a phone tree like most other doctors’ offices I had been to. Instead, it was picked up on the third ring.
“This is Dr. Henry Connor.”