Page 14 of The Woman on the Jury

“Don’t lose hope. Plenty of the shops ‘round here got cameras. I’m sure we’ll find something,” the officer said as we walked back out toward the front, single-file, since we wouldn’t fit otherwise.

The paramedics had my grandfather strapped to the gurney, looking older and frailer, and more swollen in the face than he had been moments before.

“I’ll be right there, Pop-Pop,” I promised him, touching his leg over the blanket draped there.

Tears, useless but uncontrollable, slid down my cheeks as I watched him get loaded into the ambulance and driven away as I stood there answering more questions with the police. They made me check the register and do a walkthrough of the store to make sure the expensive items weren’t missing.

But as far as I could tell, nothing was.

Which only made this whole thing make less sense.

Eventually, the police let me close the shop, so I could go see my grandfather, promising to be in touch if or when they got any leads, and I made my way to the hospital.

I sat there in the waiting room for what felt like years, my stomach flip-flopping, my mind racing, wondering if I should call my brother, if he would even care.

It had been so long since I’d seen him that I wasn’t even sure there was any real bond left. If he even considered us his family anymore.

Ultimately, I didn’t call.

Just sat there in my own misery.

I could have called Lauren.

She would have come in a heartbeat to sit with me, would have pressed the nurses for updates on my grandfather, would have gotten me cup after cup of coffee, and then forced me to eat as night became morning.

But I knew from our dinner conversation that she had a really important meeting in the morning, one that could mean the corner office she’d been coveting since she’d joined her company.

I couldn’t risk that for her.

So I just sat and waited.

And waited.

“Miss Whitlock?” a voice called, snapping me out of my endless cycle of ugly thoughts to find the doctor standing there, waving me over. “Your grandfather is going to be okay,” he assured me before the words burst out of me. “He has a pretty severe concussion and a broken eye socket,” he added. “As well as some bruised ribs. Unfortunate circumstances as these are, it was actually a good thing your grandfather came in tonight, though,” he said before launching into a long list of issues my grandfather was dealing with that ranged from dehydration to reduced kidney function.

All said and done, it sounded like my grandfather was going to be spending some time in the hospital. Not so much because of the attack, but the underlying issues I didn’t even know he was suffering with.

“Pop-Pop, you didn’t know you were sick?” I asked, holding his hand gently between both of mine, finding his fingers too cold.

“You get to be my age, everything starts not working like it used to,” he said, shrugging. “Didn’t think much else of it,” he added.

“Well, we need to get you tuned up again,” I told him, giving his hand a squeeze. “But Pop-Pop, what happened?” I asked. “Did you see who did this to you?”

“I didn’t see anything,” he said, shaking his head. “Came at me from behind,” he added, trying to touch the back of his head, but all his tubes prevented him. “What did they take?” he asked, always worried about the shop first and foremost.

“Nothing that I can tell,” I told him, watching his brows furrow. “I am going to do a closer check now that I know you’re okay. But nothing really looks disturbed.”

“Excuse me, I just wanted to bring Mr. Whitlock his menu,” an aide said, popping in to bring him the paper.

“You know what they don’t serve here? Bologna sandwiches,” he said, shaking his head. “I asked.”

“Of course you did,” I said, smiling. But the smile only made the tears that were brimming in my eyes pour out.

“Oh, none of that. I’m just fine. Better than fine. I got the ladies fussing all over me. And one of the men too,” he said, eyes warm. “You look tired, Halle girl,” he said. “You need to get some sleep, so you can open the shop for me in the morning.”

And that was Pop-Pop for you.

The business above everything else.

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