Page 86 of Scoring Grey

“Well, I was… I mean…” Cal stumbles over his words. “I just thought?—”

“I’m just messing with you. It’s about damn time.” He pulls my hand to his lips and places a kiss on the back, a move that should settle my anxiety, but it’s too late. My increased heart rate can’t be hidden when I’m hooked up to a heart monitor.

“Ma’am, are you feeling okay?” the nurse asks as the heart rate monitor I’m attached to spikes. She rushes to the bed, and Cal swoops up Adler to give her better access.

“I’m fine.” I lick my lips and try to cover for my racing heart setting off the monitor. “I was just thinking about everything that happened tonight.” I push my head back against the pillows. “I know how lucky I am to be here.” That’s not total bullshit. I was given a second chance tonight, a fresh start of sorts, because any bit of trepidation that lingered was erased after the accident.

“That’s understandable. The best thing you can do right now is rest. Visiting hours end at ten. If your husband wants to stay, we’ll get him a wristband.”

“Oh, I’ll be staying. You can get on that now,” Cal chimes in without pause.

She smiles, and her cheeks tinge the slightest shade of crimson when her eyes connect with his. The nurse knows precisely who he is, and his battered face only adds to his appeal. “I’ll be back at ten with your wristband,” she says as she takes her leave.

“Dad, I need some answers.”

“So do I. How about we start with this.” He lifts my hand. “When did you two make everything official? I figured you’d at least have a small wedding.”

“We’re not married. That part I didn’t have wrong in the ambulance.”

Adler’s eyes flick between mine and Cal’s. “But you’re wearing the ring, so you’re going to get married, right?”

“Well… your dad still hasn’t asked me?—”

“Here,” Cal interjects, pulling a book from the bag Dash brought. “I want you to read something.” He swallows hard. “Your dad should see it too.”

The book is thin and has floral binding, and the title on the front cover reads: A book of flowers. But when I flip open the first page, I quickly see that it has nothing to do with flowers. It’s a discreet journal, just like Cal’s playbook. My mouth drops open. “Is this your mother’s?”

“Yes.” His brows tug together, and I can tell letting someone else touch her book, let alone read her words, is hard. This is all he has of her. “There’s a silk bookmark marking the entry I’d like you to read.”

I find the sage ribbon and turn to the page.

The Play

The plan was to get pregnant at the same time and have mini-mes and endless girl days. I got pregnant first, and when we found out it was a boy, she said, “Great, Thelma, you know I’ve been wishing, praying, and manifesting a little girl. I already have a boy.” We both laughed, but she could tell I had already been beating myself up about it. I’m beyond excited to be pregnant, and I already love my little boy, but Thelma is the sister I never had and I was sad to see our dream fizzle, and then she said, “Well, we can be hockey moms. You bring the parkas and I’ll bring the spiked thermos of vodka.” Our new plan was activated until she found out she was having a girl. For an entire ten seconds, our plan was blown, but we quickly changed course, once more, and the new plan was even better than the first two because now, instead of being best friends with kids, we’ll be family! Callum may not have been part of our plan, but everything happens for a reason, and this happened because Louise’s daughter was always meant to be his.

I pass the book to my father. “That’s how you didn’t know I was the girl your mother wrote about. She didn’t use any names.”

He shakes his head. “Nope. I spent many years trying to figure out who Louise was. When I was young, I thought that was her name until I attempted to Google her and came across the movie Thelma and Louise.

“I found out a few months before we broke up that you were the same girl my mother wrote about in her journal after I met Sherry at an away game. She knew my mother and started asking questions and telling me stories that filled in the blanks.”

That makes sense. Sherry has a way of talking without prompt, sharing details you didn’t know you were looking for until the words leave her mouth.

I look at my dad. “Wait, is that why my name is Eloise? Did Mom name me after her best friend?” I always thought my name was a nod to my father, his name being Elias.

“It’s partially an ode to her, yes. I compromised with Eloise, wanting my own say.” He sighs a heavy, resigned breath. “Callum’s mother meant a lot to your mother. I remember when we found out you were pregnant with Adler. Your mother came to bed that night and said, ‘I’m so happy, but it hurts. I feel like I’m living her dream, and it’s not fair. I don’t deserve to feel happy when she can’t.’ Your mother was a different woman after losing Virginia.”

Cal and I share a weary look. That comment feels so ominous, given what we learned this evening.

“So the two of you are like fated mates,” Dash remarks.

“We’re not werewolves, so that would be a no.” I laugh.

He scratches his head, his cheeky smile matching my own. I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to lighten the mood. It’s getting heavy in here, but when his fingers run over the spot that I know looks eerily similar to the one my father has, I ask, “Did something happen after I was born? If she loved Virginia so much, why didn’t she stick around after Callum was born? I know if my best friend wasn’t around to raise her child, I’d still want to be a part of her kid’s life.”

Adler climbs back on my bed, and I pull him close.

“They’d be a reminder of the person I lost, but more than that, I’d want to be what she couldn’t. I’d want to pass my memories of her onto them.”

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