Page 68 of Making It While Faking It
“But I love Achilles!” I shout, feeling as if I’m tumbling downhill at full speed. “What have you done, Dad? What have you done?”
My phone beeps that I have another call. It must be him, Achilles. I have to explain that I had nothing to do with my dad’s handling of this whole ordeal. So I switch over the call without even saying goodbye to my dad, whom at this very moment, I don’t know if I can ever forgive.
But then I look more carefully at the screen. The caller is not Achilles—it’s someone else.
I’m For Real
TREASURE GROVE
The caller was Paisley, and she said that Lake is at the hospital and shouldn’t be alone. Luckily, they were in the city for three days before traveling to Sydney, Australia, when it happened.
I take a cab to the Presbyterian Hospital. On the way, I call Achilles a number of times, but it continually goes straight to voicemail. He knows what my family has done. He hates me and every Grove on the planet. Even my mom might lose Marigold as a best friend. My dad, who takes what he wants and does what he wants without considering the fallout, has ruined my happiness.
And I’m numb, so numb that all I can do is stare, dazed, out the windshield from the back seat. All day long, I’ve been walking as if dancing on air. I knew that tonight would’ve been the start of something new between me and Achilles.
“I would marry him for real,” I whisper in a shaky voice. Then I close my eyes to stop the tears from pouring out.
But we don’t have five years sealing us together anymore. Am I ready to be married now? I’m not sure of it.
I massage my temples but only long enough for Lake to call me and ask if I’m on my way. I tell her I am, and she breaks down in a gut-wrenching sob, leaving me shouting, “Is Paisley there?” over and over again.
I thought Paisley was already at the hospital.
Of course she isn’t there. She, like me, has found out that her father betrayed her husband’s family.
I makeit to the hospital and then walk so fast that I’m nearly running into the building. I’ve stopped worrying about my relationship with Achilles, and my complete focus is on making sure I make it to Lake so that she won’t feel so alone.
The front desk tells me that Mason is being treated in a private ICU wing. I imagine LTI is paying for his hospital stay. I’m given access to a special hallway and elevator, and after a short ride, I hurry out of the elevator, down a sterilized hallway, and into a private waiting room where Lake is sitting in a chair bent over, sobbing into her hands.
“Lake?” I say tentatively.
She whips her head up and gazes at me as if I’m an apparition. “It’s too soon,” she whimpers. Tears stream down her face like a rapidly flowing river.
She’s on her feet, and I’m closing the distance until we are hugging each other so tight I feel like it’s best to never let her go.
But many minutes later,I do let her go. Lake is obviously done for. Mason is on life support. They’re not married, so she’s waiting for his parents and sister to arrive. She doesn’t want them to take him off life support.
“I believe in miracles,” she keeps saying.
I repeatedly let her know that I do too. And I’m not bullshitting. I truly believe in miracles. It’s one of many lessons that my grandfather taught us. He used to say that believing in miracles helps us dream. It helps us find the answers to the impossible questions.
Then I go right to work for her, calling Lake’s parents and her cousin, the bossy one named Amy, who drops everything and says she’ll be arriving tonight.
Two hours in, and a nurse informs Lake that she can sit by Mason’s side. She gets out of her seat so fast that she generates a mild wind. Now that she’s gone and many people will soon arrive, I call my restaurant and have catering set up a buffet-style dinner in the waiting room for visitors and hospital staff.
I have to keep myself busy or else I’ll remember my own grief. So I arrange and pay for flights for Lake’s family and then arrange ground transportation from the airport to the hospital. I reserve hotel rooms for them near the hospital since I’m certain Lake will not be returning home until Mason is able to leave this hospital with her.
“He’ll recover,” I whisper to myself, and that’s when they walk out of the elevator—Paisley, Hercules and—my heart constricts and jaw drops—Achilles.
Achilles and I lock eyes.Even as I hug Paisley and then Hercules, I’m unable to look away from him.
“I can’t believe this,” Paisley says. We’re hugging again.
Hercules goes to the nurses’ station, and Achilles rips his gaze off me to join his brother. I’m not quite sure if Achilles is upset at me or not. He doesn’t look mad or disheveled or defeated. Maybe he’s done playing the game of pretending he’s in love with me at all. I too felt that pinch, that very tiny pinch, of freedom when my dad told me that I’m no longer beholden to that contract. I assume I’m able to keep the money. I better be able to keep the money.
“I know,” I say, comforting Paisley by rubbing her back.
“He’s in a coma?” She detaches from me to shake her head. “I can’t believe that.”
