Page 13 of Grayson

Grayson Hawk

I’d spent the last several hours in the hot Tennessee sun working in Rose’s yard. Several of the guys and myself got to her place at seven a.m. We had breakfast then spent several hours working in her yard.

Freshly mowed, her bushes trimmed, flowers weeded, the railing on her front porch was now secure. She didn’t ask, she never asks, but she doesn’t have to.

Turning off my bike, I climb off and start toward the front door of the apartment building. Climbing the stairs, two at a time, I reach the top and dig my keys out of my pocket.

My feet get tangled with something on the floor. Looking down I notice a pair of tennis shoes in the middle of the hallway floor.

The sound of a door slamming gains my attention and I glance up just in time to see that little shit from next door walking in my direction.

“Hey kid.” She pauses, staring at me. I’ve never met anyone more full of shit than her. She has so much fire.

“I'm not a kid,” she offers with so much attitude.

“Okay.” There really is no point in arguing. “Are these yours?” I point down at the pair of shoes on the floor.

“No,” she says, placing her hands on her hips. “Because if they were mine, I wouldn’t have just walked past them without picking them up.” Rolling her eyes she continues. “I have manners, unlike you.”

The young girl walks toward me and brushes past.

“What makes you think I don’t have manners?”

Screeching to a halt she turns around to completely face me with her brows furrowed and her nose scrunched up.

“Our apartments are butted up against one another.” She arches a brow as if that is all she needs to say in order to explain her response. I say nothing so she is forced to continue. Honestly I find it difficult not to laugh, she is entertaining even when she is trying not to be. “I’m pretty sure your bedroom wall is also my bedroom wall.”

She glares at me and suddenly I feel sick to my stomach. “I’ve heard things. Things that in no way a young girl should hear. It’s like a Hooters is live next door all. The. Time. So yes, I do know that your manners suck.”

She places her hands on her hips and squares off with me and suddenly I feel intimidated by a fucking teenage girl. “And you’re a perv!” she declares before storming off after rolling her eyes at me.

“Fuck man,” Carl, the neighbor at the end of the hall, remains in the doorway of his end apartment. I hadn’t even noticed him there until now. “You just got told by a teenage girl.” Shaking his head, his laughter echoes through the hall. He closes his door and I glance back in the direction she had gone.

I couldn’t even argue, but in my defense, that teenage girl is a little scary. I somewhat pity the boy or man that ever took a chance on that one.

The entire crew was silent, watching the streets of Nashville move by through the windows. There was a deep heaviness in our hearts, that pressure that pushes on the center of your chest making it difficult to breathe.

It’s never easy losing anyone, but to roll up on a scene thinking there’s a chance, then in the end that chance is stolen, it’s hard to accept.

There’s a group of twenty-something year olds, in Nashville for the weekend, all enjoying being young and free.

The look in the girl’s eyes when she took my hand in hers and told me she didn’t want to die, I swear broke something inside me. A chip in the armor I put on every shift, it got through.

Crossing the road she was tipsy and hadn’t seen the car until it was too late. She’d succumbed to her internal injuries before they got the chance to work on her, but not before she begged us to save her.

I swear I can still hear her words, and see her pleading eyes every time I close my eyes.

“And she is always here,” Brax says through the quiet cab, his voice low but clear. “It’s almost like she knows when we need her the most.”

With that every one of us looks ahead to see our sweet Rose waiting for us by the entrance. She didn’t hold anything, no sweets she’d baked for us, no those were already inside from earlier. It was just her alone.

“Am I the only one that feels better when she’s around?” Coop asks.

“No, Coop,” I reply as the truck slows a stop. “Somehow Rose can take the worst situation and make it feel a little less heavy.”

One by one we climb out and she’s there to offer us each a kind smile and hug. She doesn’t have to say a word, she has this ability to comfort us without truly trying.

Oscar comes running through the crowd and sits on his hind legs at her side. He may live here with us, but he still feels loyal to her. It’s a feeling even he can’t ignore. The woman is a godsend. For the remaining part of our shift she doesn’t do much, but she doesn’t have to. She smiles and offers us words of encouragement and kindness.

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