Page 58 of By His Play

“Holy crap,” Kieran says after walking past his car and toward the front door. “Look,” he says before putting me back on my feet.

The world spins around me, and thankfully, his hands don’t leave my waist as everything settles.

When I see what caused his reaction, my breath catches.

We have bouquets of flowers, plants, and containers of all shapes and sizes in front of Grams' front door.

“What is all that?” I ask in confusion.

The flowers are self-explanatory, but the rest…

I stand there with my head still spinning while Kieran gathers it all up.

“Are you going to let us in?” he asks with his arms full.

I jump into action and pull the key from my pocket.

No sooner does he releases everything, than I begin pulling lids from containers.

Cookies. Cakes. A casserole.

I shake my head, unable to believe what I’m seeing.

I know that Grams had great friends and a support network. I’ve spent time with all of them at the care home over the last few months. They’re always inviting me to dinner, or offering to cook for me, but I’ve never taken them up on the offer.

Sure, a few came to see Grams with goodies to share, but I never expected this.

With my hand covering my mouth, a sob breaks free.

Their kindness and generosity floor me. And I haven’t even opened the cards that accompany the gifts.

I stand there shivering and staring at it all in shock.

“Effie, you need to go and shower,” Kieran says, dragging me back to reality.

Another violent shiver rips through me, proving that he’s right.

“Come on,” he says, once again gathering me up and leading me toward the bathroom.

I’m aware of how much I’m leaning on him right now, but I can’t help it. If it weren’t for him, I’m not sure I’d be functioning at all.

He’s giving me a reason to fight and to keep moving. I’ll take everything he’s offering me while he’s here and willing.

At some point, he’ll have to return to Chicago. I should probably go with him. It’s where my life is. My job. My apartment. But right now, I can’t imagine being anywhere but here.

He leaves me in the middle of the bathroom as he turns the shower on.

In only seconds, steam fills the room, and warmth rushes over my cold body.

“Can you take it from here?” he asks, ducking down to look into my eyes.

I hate to consider what he sees when he looks at me.

Unable to hold his stare, I look down at the floor and nod.

I might be broken, but surely, I’m capable of undressing myself.

“Call me if you need me,” he says before kissing my brow and stepping out of the room.

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