Finding You (Love Wanted in Texas #4)

Finding You (Love Wanted in Texas #4) Page 27

“Noah, talk to me, please,” Grace said as she placed her hand on my arm.

Pushing both hands through my hair, I turned to Grace. “You don’t think my sister and I want our mother home? That we’d rather her die with a bit of peace and in her own home instead of in a small room?”

Grace took a step back as she shook her head. “I wasn’t trying to . . . I mean . . . I just thought. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Yeah, well you fucking did.”

The hurt look on Grace’s face pierced my heart like someone driving a knife through it. The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Grace’s eyes turned dark as she stared at me. “When you’re ready to talk without being an asshole, call me. Until then, I’m going to go check in to a hotel.”

Grace pushed past me as all the air left my lungs and I fought to keep standing. “Wait, Grace, please. I didn’t mean to say that.”

Grace stopped walking and slowly turned around. “Listen, I can’t even imagine what you and Emily are going through right now, but that doesn’t give you a free pass to walk all over me or talk to me like that. If I overstepped my place, fine, just tell me.”

“It’s not that, Grace. I’d give anything to have my mother home. We can’t though. My father is selling the house. He had my mother sign the house over to him before he left. Told her it was paperwork that needed to be signed, and she had no idea what she was doing. If we brought her home and the house sold, we’d just have to put her in hospice and that would for sure kill her before the cancer did.”

Grace placed her hand over her mouth as she stared at me with a stunned expression. “He’s selling your childhood home? Why would he do that, Noah? Why wouldn’t he at least let your mother . . . let her . . . why wouldn’t he—”

“Why wouldn’t he let her die there? Because he’s an asshole, Grace. He’s a selfish son-of-a-bitch who doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself and the young blonde on his arm.”

Grace dropped her hand and was about say something when Grayson came running over to us calling out my name.

“Noah! It’s Aunt Lisa, she’s having trouble breathing. Come quick.”

Staring at my mother as she slept, I tried to push all the fear away. I ended up spending the night at the hospital while Emily and Grace headed back to the house. I felt like shit for leaving Grace alone, but I couldn’t leave my mother.

Dropping my head, I rested my forehead on the back of my hands as I listened to my mother’s breathing. It was shallow, but still strong. She had been having problems breathing and twice her heart had stopped. When the doctor told Emily and I hospice needed to be brought in, I felt like I’d lost a small part of my mother. Emily and I had to decide what to do. Risk bringing her home and having to end up moving her to the Christopher House, or just going straight there. Either option sucked. But it would be worse having her home, only to take her away again.

The door to the room slowly opened as I lifted my head and saw Grace. The energy in the room changed as she gave me a sweet smile. Standing up, I quickly made my way over to her and wrapped her in my arms.

“I’m so sorry, Grace. I’m so sorry I brought you here and then left you all alone last night.”

Grace wrapped her arms around me tightly as she spoke softly in my ear. “Noah, please don’t apologize. It’s really okay. Besides, I have an idea of how you can make it up to me.”

I pulled back and looked into her eyes as I smiled. “Really?”

Nodding, she wiggled her eyebrows. I knew Grace was trying her best to keep my mind focused on something other than my mother, and I loved her so much for that. “Yep. And it involves hot fudge.”

Smirking, I asked, “Hot fudge?”

Grace let out a soft laugh as she placed her hand on the side of my face. Looking over my shoulder at my mother who was still sleeping, Grace cleared her throat. Pinning her with her eyes, she said, “I need to talk to you, in private.”

“Sure,” I said as I motioned for Grace to head back out of the room. Grace walked a little ways from my mother’s room and before she stopped. Turning to me, she handed me an envelope.

“What is this?”

Grace looked into my eyes and whispered, “It’s the deed to your house.”

Narrowing my eyes, I looked at the envelope and then back at Grace. “What do you mean, it’s the deed to my house?”

Grace stood a bit taller as she cleared her throat. “I talked to my grandfather yesterday afternoon. He put a cash offer on your home that your father couldn’t refuse. With my grandfather’s connections, he was able to purchase the house and get the deed transferred over to your name and get it all done this morning. The house is yours, Noah.”