Page 12 of Grumpy

“Jesse? Are you up for some company?”

Grumpy nodded carefully. The doctors had warned about moving his neck too much, but he wanted Kelly to see his answer.

“Not too long,” his mom warned as she stood up. “He needs to rest.”

It took some doing, but Grumpy was able to shift his head on his pillow to face the door. He watched as Kelly closed it behind herself.

“Hey,” she smiled down at him.

Grumpy wished he was able to reply. Instead, he just lay there as his mom’s fucking soap opera filled in the silence.

Kelly glanced over her shoulder at the television. “Days of Our Lives, really?” There must have been something in his eye that showed her his true feelings for the show, because Kelly laughed. Walking over to the table, Kelly reached for the remote and turned it off. “How about we hide this for a bit, yeah?” She wiggled the remote in front of him.

Grumpy nodded, never more grateful to another human being before in his life.

Kelly looked around, but unfortunately, there weren’t that many hidey-holes available to them. Instead, she dropped it into her purse. “I’ll give it to the nurses on my way out.”

It wasn’t perfect. His mom would complain until one of them relented and returned it as a “new” remote, but it would at least give him a minor reprieve.

She walked around the bed to the chair his mom had just vacated. She was in her waitress uniform, minus her white apron. When Tally and Sophia had taken over the diner, they allowed their staff to switch out of the mint green dresses Sophia’s mom had chosen years ago as a uniform. Sometimes Kelly still wore them and sometimes she wore the black dockers with a diner polo.

Personally, Grumpy was pro-dress.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better. I stopped by yesterday, but you were out of it.”

Fuck. Grumpy had been afraid of that. He was grateful the doctors were backing off his medications then, even if it did mean suffering through more of his mom’s soap opera episodes.

“Look, I feel like a total bitch for even thinking about this, and there’s no easy way for me to say it, so I’m just going to come out and say it. Obviously, you are not in any condition to be dating anyone right now. And I absolutely do not hold that against you. Frankly, I’ve been wondering if the universe was trying to tell us something. I mean, what are the odds that we finally get around to actually going on a date together and a frickin’ bomb goes off?” Kelly shook her head. She had her long hair in two intricate braids on either side of her head and then pulled back to a single ponytail. He wondered if she did that herself or had her mom help her. He knew how to braid, but not like that. Mostly, he just threw his long hair up in a man bun to keep it out of the way at work.

“Anyway, I just keep thinking that you might feel pressured to follow-through, you know? Like you might think that you have to worry about healing and dating…” Kelly groaned, rubbing her forehead. “I told you this was going to make me sound like a total bitch. Anyway, you’re getting better, but you shouldn’t have to worry about me too as you do. I think it’s better that we just return to being friends. I’ll stop by when I can and you just keep working on healing. We’ll just be friends, and I won’t even hold our not-date against you.”

She was trying to make light of the situation. But her little half smile at the end of her ramble told Grumpy more than she likely wanted him to know—this talk, putting him back in the friend zone, hurt her.

Grumpy hated it. Hated himself even more. But what was he to do? He couldn’t even take care of himself right now. He couldn’t even tell her anything, verbally argue with her statement. And what argument would he have anyway? Wasn’t like he was in any condition to woo her, wine and dine her, or anything else. Grumpy didn’t even know if he would or could legally drive his motorcycle again.

Maybe she was right. Maybe it was a sign from the universe that they just weren’t meant to be.

Fuck. Why did that have to hurt so much? Why did the idea of her walking out of his life feel like she was taking a chunk of him with her?

But he couldn’t just let her walk away. He needed confirmation. With a wave of his hand, he indicated to his notepad and pen. Kelly easily got it for him, helping him grip the pen securely in his hand before stepping back. His words were barely legible, but thankfully she understood.

“Is this what I want?” she repeated. When he nodded, she shook her head. “No, not really. But what I want isn’t an option right now. I think we both need time, Grumpy. And as much as I want to be here for you, I can’t miss any more work. Sophia keeps trying to pay me for shifts I haven’t worked because I’m here with you, and that’s not fair to her. Plus, there’s my mom. She nearly fell yesterday. I just…” Kelly bit her lip. “I need to be your friend right now, Grumpy. As much as I want to be more, the reality of our current circumstances is that it’s not possible. Maybe we wasted all this time, dancing around each other. Maybe we just waited too long and now it’s not meant to be.”

Grumpy didn’t believe that, but he also had no argument against it. What could he say when he couldn’t even stand up and comfort her right now?

Kelly wiped under her eye. “I’m still your friend, Grumpy. I will always be your friend. And when you’re up to it, you’ll be right back in the diner and I’ll get you the biggest slice of apple pecan pie you’ve ever had in your life.” She reached down and gently squeezed his hand. “But I can’t be here for you, right now. I hate that. I hate that bills and responsibilities keep me from where I want to be most, but that’s life. And I could continue arguing with myself and justifying my decision a thousand different ways, but in the end, I’m too much of a realist to fool even myself.” She leaned over and just barely kissed his forehead. “I’m going to go. I’ll try to stop by again in a few days.” She squeezed his hand again. “Bye, Grumpy.”

CHAPTER 3

Present Day

Grumpy was wrong. This was hell. He wasn’t even referring to the chronic itch on his maturing skin grafts, or the compression garments he had to wear twenty-two hours out of the day, or the endless moisturizing that made him feel like a fucking diva, or the constant ringing in his ears from his tinnitus, or the fucking prosthetic eye that wouldn’t stop weeping, or having to have his food chopped up into little bits and occasionally puréed before he could eat it, or the limited mobility that made it feel like he was walking through hardening sludge with every step.

Nope. He could survive all that, as well as the other shit that came with getting himself blown up. He was alive. He’d survived what four others hadn’t, four innocent souls who hadn’t deserved to have their lives snuffed out in the blink of an eye.

No pun intended.

Grumpy might be a walking metal detector’s nightmare, but he was walking. Every day he got stronger, got better. He’d figure out his balance and one day his lack of sight on his left side would seem normal. It would take time, and time was something Grumpy had far too much of right now.