Gray:They were the best cookies ever. But no one wants pity cookies.
“Oh, shit.” Baxter Blakewood had warned her that his brother was sensitive about his condition. She typed in a rush, feeling every inch an idiot.
Meredith:NOT pity cookies. Get-to-know-you cookies.
She pressed send,and when he didn’t respond right away:
Meredith:I’m-so-grateful-for-this-job cookies.
And then:
Meredith:I-often-put-my-foot-in-my-mouth cookies.
“Dammit,” she hissed into the night, forcing herself to stop typing before she made the whole situation even worse. And then her phone buzzed in her hand, and her “Bittersweet Faith” ringtone made her jump. He was calling.
“Oh, shit,” she said again. He was going to fire her. Right now.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“HELLO?” MEREDITH ANSWERED.
Gray could hear the nerves in her voice. No wonder she’d fired off those texts so quickly.
“You type too fast for me.” He needed to apologize. The plate of cookies was the nicest thing anyone had done for him in a long time.
“I’m… sorry?” she offered.
Was she apologizing for typing too fast? Gray sniffed a laugh. “No,I’msorry,” he said, trying to keep the humor from his voice. “I shouldn’t have referred to your gift as pity cookies. They’re really good. I’m grateful.”
He heard her sigh, but it didn’t sound like relief.
“I shouldn’t have brought up… um… “
The words seemed to die in her throat, and Gray’s smile faded. Illness was taboo. Gray had learned this as soon as he’d been diagnosed. Family and friends grew awkward and quiet when the subject came up. Meredith didn’t even know what was wrong with him, and she still didn’t want to talk about it.
“That I’m sick?” he made himself ask.
“Yes.” The word was small and full of hesitation. He wasn’t about to tell her he had a brain tumor that could potentially kill him, but he didn’t want her to be afraid of saying the wrong thing around him either. That was bullshit.
“Well, Iamsick.”And I could be dead in a year.“As much as I hate to admit it.”
“That’s why I’m sorry,” she said in a rush. “I’ll try not to remind you of it in the future.”
He had to laugh, even though he heard the bitterness in it. “You can’t remind me of something I can’t forget.”
Meredith went quiet for a while, but Gray thought he heard the sound of a car horn in the distance.
“Does that mean it’s all you think about?” Her voice dropped, timid and soft, but the question itself was bold. And Gray found he didn’t mind it.
“No,” he hedged, his own voice softening. “I mean, it’s always there, but I don’t think about itallthe time.”
Her hesitation disappeared. “Whatdoyou think about?”
Gray chuckled, her curiosity amusing him. “My books, mostly.”
“Wow.” The word was soft but filled with awe, and he felt a welcome sense of pride. “That’s cool.”
The rumble of a semi overtook the line. Gray frowned.