A Life Worth Fighting (21 page)

“Bubby, we should make them thank-you cards.”  

“Yeah, Sissy. I don’t want them to be sad.” 

“We can add glitter and make them sparkly,” Raelynn says enthusiastically.  

After two hours, all of the thank-you cards are filled out, signed, addressed, and ready to be mailed. 

Leah

I try to think positively and I try to avoid the dark cloud known as depression. I focus on work and try to follow up with Brooke and her book sales on the internet. More and more people are coming in and requesting her books by name. In the beginning, her books mostly sold because she was a local author, but now, they are selling because her books are bestsellers. Brooke comes in and restocks her books weekly and I try to get an update from her then. This weekend she is doing another book signing in Tampa. The signing is called the Beach Babes Book Bash and will be held at the Holiday Inn. 

Bethany called out sick today, so I am working at the shop alone. Robert offered to stay and help out, but he needs to train. Emma comes in with her kids for storytime. Storytime used to be on Fridays only, but now it’s everyday. Either Bethany, me, Robert on occasion, or a child’s parent will read a short story to the children. Everyone seems to enjoy it. Today, Brittany’s
mom is going to read. I hold Emma’s baby, Jackson, every chance that I get. I even put his baby carrier behind the counter with me. He is a good baby with dark hair like Alec’s. James has blond hair like Emma’s, but I think he resembles his father who passed away a few years ago during his tour of duty. I saw pictures of him while visiting at Emma and Alec’s house. Other than the blond hair, he doesn’t look much like her.  

Robert comes into work earlier than normal to help me close. He waits patiently while I do the deposit and the book work. I do this nightly. Otherwise, it wouldn’t get done. When I exit the back room, I expect to find him sitting down watching the big screen, and he is. Robert is watching the sports channel and on the television is a picture of Greene, the boxer who passed away as a result of a fight with Kennedy. The headline reads: “Enough Money Raised to Help with Greene’s Handicapped Child.” Robert must not hear me because he doesn’t turn to acknowledge me. On the television is now a picture of Greene and his young, wheelchair-bound son standing in front of a small modest white house with black shutters and a white picket fence.  

Earlier, I saw the article in the paper with the link to the website to make a monetary donation. I made a small contribution in Jamie’s name. I didn’t tell Robert. I’m sure he made his own contribution. “I’m glad the donations were plentiful.” 

He looks over at me, takes my hand in his, and smiles, “Me, too.” Robert shuts off the television and asks, “Are you ready, Sweets?” 

“I’m tired today, Ace,” I say, propping my feet up on the coffee table. 

“If Bethany is sick tomorrow, I’ll stay and help you.” 

“Good, the gutters need to be cleaned out,” I joke. 

Robert and I drive home and I fall asleep in the car on the way. I forgot how exhausting it is to share your body with another human being, no matter how small they are. And yet we don’t present infants with a rent bill after they are born even though we know that in a few years they will probably call us “Poopyhead” at least once. 

“C’mon, Sweets, let’s get you to bed.”  

I don’t argue, I just change my clothes and crawl into bed. I feel Robert kiss me and cover me up before he turns off the lamp and leaves the room. 

The next day I wake up to an empty bed and a note on Robert’s pillow
. Leah, I know you must be tired. I’ll be at the shop working today. Don’t worry about anything, stay in bed, and get your rest. Love, Robert x
 

I roll over and look at the clock. I am surprised to see it’s already 10:00 a.m. I slept more than 12 hours. Feeling rested, I shower and eat something before driving to the shop. I check the mail and see that a certified letter needs to be picked up from the post office. No sender’s name is listed — just a code. It’s addressed to Robert and me. I put it in the car. 

I pull into the parking lot at the shop and I can tell by the number of cars in the lot that it’s already getting busy. I don’t see Bethany’s car, but I do see that Jo’s car is still here. I peek in the large picture window and see Robert at the counter looking at, but not touching, the cinnamon buns. Then I see Jo at the coffee station getting a cup of coffee. I watch as she walks over and hands Robert the cup of coffee. I enter the shop and the bell over the door rings, alerting them that someone is entering. 

“Working hard, Ace?” I ask as I try to hide the amusement from my face. “Good morning, Jo,” I add, smiling at her.  

Jo smiles and says, “Good morning, Leah. Feeling better?” 

“I’m very well rested, thank you.” 

Robert smiles at me and says, “I’m working as hard as you do on a daily basis.” 

“Is this what you think I do every day? Sit there, staring at cinnamon buns, and have Jo get my coffee for me?” I bend down and kiss him. I know he’s in a playful mood this morning. 

“You got that extra weight from doing something?” he jokes before he swats my bottom. 

I yelp and laugh. “I can tell you this, it wasn’t from eating these.” I break off a piece of a cinnamon bun and toss it in my mouth. 

“You can enjoy it,” Robert says. “I have to give these up because of my fight with Kennedy.” 

He adds, “Did you get your sleep out?”  

“I did, but you should have woken me up this morning.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I need to work.” 

“I could have handled it.” 

The bell over the door rings. 

“Excuse me, but where is your erotica section?” a tall, blonde woman asks. 

I look at Robert and let him
handle
it.  

“Do we have an erotica section?” Robert asks the woman. 

I laugh and say, “It’s in the back of the store.” 

“Thank you,” she says as she walks off towards the back of the shop. 

“You sell erotic books?” Robert spins around on his stool. “Women like those?” 

“We do and they sell very well. Good job handling that question, Ace,” I joke.  

Robert leans up and kisses me, “I’m glad you’re here.” 

I put my things away and find out that Bethany is still sick. I call Mrs. Ford from the florist and get a bouquet of flowers ordered for her. Robert tells me that Jo insisted on staying over to help him. I thank her for staying over to work and ask her to please stop catering to Robert.  

“Bobby is just so dang cute,” she insists and claims that as her defense.  

“Jo, he’s going to get fat and lazy if you keep waiting on him.” 

“Nonsense. A man needs to be catered to from time to time,” she says while removing her apron. 

“When he gets fat and lazy, I’m sending him to you.” We both smile. 

I add, “But Jo, don’t tempt him with cinnamon buns. He’s giving them up until after the fight with Kennedy.” 

I kiss and hug Jo goodbye and Robert walks her to her car. While he’s outside, I check over the sale receipts to make sure there aren’t any obvious errors. I’m pleased when everything looks good.  

“Are you going to train today?” I ask when Robert comes into the shop. 

“No, I took the day off. I thought you would have stayed home today.” 

I ring up a couple customers and then say, “I can’t take the day off. It was nice that you let me sleep in, though.” 

“Anything for you, Sweets.” 

“Did you happen to talk to Bethany this morning?” 

“No, Kyle called in for her. He said she has the flu.” 

“Hopefully she can get some rest this weekend.” 

Chapter Seven: Is This Even Possible?

Robert

Leah and I have dinner at a restaurant with a lounge, and Gus is sitting at the bar having a beer.  

“What’s Dove doing today?” I ask Gus. 

“She’s actually working on a big story.” 

“I thought she did an excellent job with the story she did about the kids finding the gun,” Leah says. 

Gus smiles, “Thank you. She was pretty happy with the content of that story; she likes feel-good stories.” 

“Does this story have anything to do with that?” 

“No, I don’t think so. She said the story she is working on is pretty exclusive. She isn’t talking much about it yet. I guess it’ll be the story of the year.” 

“She must be an excellent reporter to have a story like that,” Leah says. 

“She is. She loves her job and she can get a story like no one else. I’ve seen her in action and it’s scary,” Gus says.  

On the way to take Leah to work the next morning, I see a certified letter notice on the console of her car.  

“Do we have time to get this?” I ask, holding up the green-colored notice. 

“We have plenty of time .” 

“I hate when they don’t list the sender,” I admit, looking at the code numbers where the sender's name should be.  

“I imagine it’s about your upcoming fight with Kennedy,” Leah says. She doesn’t look at me.  

I pull into the post office and Leah waits for me in the car. Thankfully the line is minimal this time of the morning. I give the clerk the slip and watch as he exits into the back room. When he returns, he hands me a large manilla envelope. It is addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Robert Grether and it’s from Manasota Memorial Hospital.  

“Thank you,” I say, walking away from the counter and out to the car where Leah is waiting.  

I get in the car and hand Leah the envelope before pulling out of the parking lot. Leah looks at the large envelope and says, “It’s from Manasota Memorial Hospital. Do you think it’s about my pregnancy or my lab work?” 

“I can’t imagine why they would send you a certified letter for that. Besides, it’s addressed to the both of us.” 

“Good point. Here, you open it. It’s probably a bill,” she jokes as she hands me the unopened envelope. 

I look over at her and smile. When we pull up into the parking lot of the shop, I take the envelope and walk hand in hand with Leah. Bethany is already here and is helping Jo with the pastries. Since we are running late, I immediately set my things on the counter and begin setting the bistro tables out on the sidewalk. A few cars are already pulling into the parking lot. When the last table is set out, I walk back inside. My keys, the certified letter, and Leah are nowhere to be seen.  

“Feeling better, Bethany?” I ask, walking over to her.  

“Much better, thank you.” 

“Good, we were worried about you.” 

“I’m sorry about that; I know I left you guys in a bind.” 

“No need to worry about that. I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”  

I hear the office door open and then I hear a loud noise. I run in the direction of Leah’s office and see her lying on her side on the floor. “Call 911,” I yell as I run closer to Leah’s seemingly lifeless body. I kneel down beside her and feel for a pulse.
Thankfully, there is one.
  

“Bethany’s calling 911. What do you want me to do, Bobby?” Jo asks softly. 

“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “I think she fainted.” 

“Here, let me see,” Jo says as she makes her way into the small office. I move out of the way slightly, giving Jo just a small amount of space. Jo carefully repositions Leah and feels her pulse. Next, Jo opens Leah’s eyelids and then she squeezes her fingertips. She is making sure her eyes are reactive and that she has blood flow to her extremities.  

“They’re on their way,” Bethany yells from the other room.  

I kneel on the floor, holding Leah’s hand, and pray that she and the baby are all right. Jo softly smooths Leah’s hair, moving it away from her face, and talks calmly to her. Bethany gives Jo a blanket that she must have gotten from the children’s reading area.  

“Thank you, Bethany. I think she may be in shock,” Jo whispers.  

Shock? Why would she be in shock?
I hear sirens and Leah’s hand twitches in my hand.  

“They’re here,” Bethany yells.  

I look at Leah and see her eyes flutter. Jo talks sweetly to her and I continue to pray. I hear voices, and Jo and I stand to let the EMS workers in. I give them Leah’s medical history and details of what I saw happen today to one man while never taking my eyes off of the two guys placing an unconscious Leah onto the gurney.  

“You can ride with us or you can follow us,” one guy says. 

“I’ll ride with you. Bethany, will you lock up and put the closed sign on the door for me, please?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

“Go on, Bobby. Bethany and I will manage the store. Call us when you know something.” 

“Thank you, guys, and I will.” 

I ride in the front of the ambulance and force myself to not look behind me. I call my mom and Leah’s mom and tell them what happened. It’s no surprise that they all will meet us at the hospital. I also ask her mom to call Leah’s doctor to meet us there, too.