Page 78 of A Million Times, Yes
But when I’d closed out the browser and set my phone on my nightstand to go to bed, I still couldn’t shake that feeling. The pain that had haunted me for the last twenty-one years.
Me:Last night’s conversation helped. You need to know that.
Jordan:I’m glad it did.
“Oh, honey, are you going to come give me my meds, or are you going to stare at me from the doorway like I’m some specimen your kind examines under one of those fancy microscopes?” Bettie said from her bed.
“Pathology is above my pay grade.”
She waved the air. “Is that look your way of telling me that by bringing you and my grandson together, I’ve ruffled your feathers and you’re angry with me?”
“This look is me being in awe of you.”
I came into her room and set the cup of pills on her tray.
I’d been anticipating this conversation since Jordan had left my apartment last night. Before my research had shifted to the Worthington empire, I’d spent several hours deep within Google, learning more about Bettie’s history. I’d even started reading one of the many books that had been written about her.
She slowly bobbed her head. “Now, why would you be in awe ofme?”
I took a seat on the side of her bed. “Jordan told me a little about you.”
“Ah.” She paused. “This smile isn’t because you know about me.” She pointed at her lips. “It’s because you spent time with my grandson.”
I laughed. “He surprised me and brought dinner to my apartment.”
“Did he?”
“A favorite, which I hear is alsoyourfavorite.”
She pushed down her glasses and stared at me over the rim. “That boy brought you Thai, didn’t he?”
“He sure did. I have some leftovers in the fridge that I’ll bring you for lunch. Just don’t tell anyone where you got it from.”
“Deal.” She reached up and touched my cheek. “I hope this means things are back on track with you and my grandson?”
I clasped my hand around hers, locking her there. Her fingers were comforting, something I’d never gotten from my mother. I’d spent my childhood touching her face, not the other way around. “There’s movement. But back on the same track again? No.”
“You’ll get there.”
“Jordan said something similar last night.”
“That’s because my grandson is just like me.” She patted my cheek.
“In what way?”
“When we want something, we let nothing stop us.”
I glanced toward the window; the sky was as moody as it had been during my run, a dreary and overcast day. When I returned to Bettie, I smiled. “I read that about you.”
“Honey, those are just stories. Speculation for clickbait. Except, back in my day, when I still owned my company, the media was a bit kinder than it is now. The real truth, that wasn’t talked about. It wasn’t shown or revealed. Just like Jordan doesn’t show his real truth.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
She sat up a little higher. “There are endless words written about my rise and achievements, but the meat behind those stories were the moments I spent in my office at two and three in the morning, the exhaustion causing tears I had to fight through. Or when I missed my children’s games and plays, and the agony I would feel from it. Or the hours I would spend flying back and forth to Europe and Asia, where the cold, dark plane would send me into a mental spiral that I didn’t know if I would come back from.” She broke eye contact and stared across the room. “Those were the moments that should have been documented. The times when I didn’t know I would make it through. But they couldn’t be described by anyone other than me, and I would never talk about them. The same way Jordan won’t talk about what his moments look like.”
“The ones that made him a successful hockey player?”
“The ones when he’s most vulnerable about you.”
