“Mommy.” Logan’s little voice comes through the baby monitor. He’s probably all kinds of confused, and the concussion isn’t helping. My creature of habit is all out of whack this morning.
“Coming, Logan. I’m just going to unlock the door for Mr. Graham, then I’ll be right there.” Normally, I’d wake him up, or he’d meet me in the kitchen, which almost makes me worry that he’ll need to go back to the doctor.
“Okay, I’m going to lie back down, then.” My worry amplifies. It’ll be sheer luck if I get through the whole day without breaking down and calling Graham eighty times or coming home during my lunch break.
“That’s fine.” The doorbell rings right when I reach the front door. I don’t bother looking out the side window but unlock the door, wanting to hurry up and get back to Logan.
“Morning, Faith.” Graham is wearing a gray cotton shirt that’s stretched over his muscular chest, dark jeans molded to him like a second skin down to his rugged boots. It’s the smile that has my body melting into a puddle of goo.
“Morning. Help yourself to coffee. Logan just woke up but isn’t getting out of bed, so I’m going to go see if something’s wrong.” I turn around, practically sprinting towards Logan’s room.
“Is he sick?” Graham is hot on my heels. I’m thankful he knows I’m in no need to make small talk.
“No idea, but he’s usually up and moving, so I’m not sure,” I tell him over my shoulder. I stop when I make it to the doorway of Logan’s room and breathe a sigh of relief seeing that he’s sitting up in bed, pillows stacked behind his back, the remote in his hand, and a smile plastered on his handsome face.
“Good morning, Mommy and Mr. Graham.” His eyes slide to ours. The spot where they shaved his head to staple the wound still kills me.
“Thank God,” I whisper.
“Hey, there, champ. Sleep well, did you?” Graham takes over the conversation I’m clearly not ready for.
“Like a rock. Mom, do you think I can have pumpkin waffles, bacon, and eggs?” This is why I keep frozen waffles at the ready when we make them on the weekends. I never know what he’ll ask for and if I’ll have time to make it during the week.
“Good morning. Yep, I saved some from last weekend, though you’ll have to get up and eat in the kitchen. Syrup doesn’t go well with bed sheets.” I sweep the hair off his forehead on his good side. Logan gives me his signature crooked grin with his two front teeth missing.
“Okay, I’ll meet you there.” And just like that, we’re dismissed. Graham chuckles. His hand moves to my lower back, guiding me out towards the kitchen. Once we’re out of sight, those long purposeful fingers of his glide beneath my shirt, fingertips searing my skin and bringing more feelings to the surface.
“Leave it to Logan to be injured and be more reserved than anyone else I know,” Graham says when we get to the kitchen.
“There’s never a dull moment. I put the spare booster seat in the living room. He’ll tell you what he’d like for lunch and snacks. Don’t let him fool you with being allowed ice cream for lunch. Other than that, Logan is really easy going. The hard part will be for him not to be on his tablet.” I’m moving around the kitchen getting everything ready, knowing that time is of the essence and I’ll soon be leaving Logan with Graham.
“Breathe, babe. You have a phone, I have a phone. Something happens, I’ll call.” Graham wraps his arms around me from behind, giving me that solace I so clearly need, and for the first time, I let him take some of the burden off my shoulders.
Eight
Graham
“What do you say we make your mom dinner tonight?” Today’s been a good one. Logan and I built Legos until I noticed he was getting restless, then we made a fort in the living room, gathering flashlights and making up stories. Once he got tired of that, we moved on to something else. It seems Faith is right—Logan is beyond active and advanced in every facet. He even said, “I’m tired now, so I think I’ll watch cartoons in my room for a bit.” Of course, this was after his lunch of chicken nuggets, broccoli, and rice. I took the time while he was resting to fix the leaky faucet in the kitchen, work on the door handle on the front door that seemed to stick when you tried to lock it, something I noticed Faith fiddling with the last couple of nights. It didn’t take long for me to work through those few things, and knowing Logan, he’d let me know if there was something else that needed fixing.