Taking Connor(18)

“Well, there weren’t many dance offs where I’ve been for the last eight years,” he jokes. “Maybe we need to get out one night, hmm?”

“Maybe. Lexi knows all of the cool places to go. Maybe I’ll make her our escort.”

He smirks. “Let me know. I’ll see if I can pencil you in,” he jests.





Connor joined me for dinner two more times the same week. The first night we grilled burgers, and I taught him how to use his cell phone. On the second night, he helped me rearrange my living room furniture. But other nights he took off on his Harley. I never asked him where he went, but I was curious. If I had asked, I’m sure he would have told me, but I know it was none of my business.

We decide to go into town on Sunday to visit his grandmother, Grams, at her nursing home. Meryl Elouise Stevens is eighty-three-years-old and the life of the party even in her motorized wheelchair. The nursing home has called me a few times over the last few years to discuss her ‘flamboyant behavior.’ Meryl apparently had a gentlemen friend visiting her in her room late at night. They were caught a few times, but the last straw was when the guy had a heart attack.

On top of her.

She woke the whole floor up yelling for help because she couldn’t get out from under him.

Luckily he survived, but his family moved him to another facility, concerned for his well-being in Grams presence. I decided not to share this tidbit of information with Connor, figuring it might be a little much for him to digest.

Blake worshiped her, and as I watch Connor practically run up to her as she pushes herself up out of her wheelchair, I can see Connor holds her in the same esteem. Watching this giant of a man bend down and hug his practically hobbit-sized grandmother like she’s made of porcelain makes my heart squeeze.

“My darling boy,” she coos as he embraces her gently, her frail, wrinkled arms wrapped around his neck as best she can. “I’m so happy you’re home, boy,” she croaks with emotion, as she pats his back before they pull away from one another.

“It’s so good to see you, Grams,” he beams. The genuine smile on his face is amazing, and Gram’s eyes go teary. He holds her steady as she slowly sits in her chair again, but she doesn’t let go of his hand, which forces Connor to stand a little hunched over, but he doesn’t complain.

“Demi, love. Where’s my hug?” It sounded like a question, but it wasn’t. In Grams language that translates as: Get your ass over here and hug me.

“Hi, Grams. You’re looking beautiful today.” I lean down and close my eyes as she wraps her one free arm around me, loving the warmth in her hug. Her other hand still grips Connor’s tightly. My grandparents passed before I was born and my mother, while overbearing and meddling, was never very affectionate. But Meryl’s love more than made up for it.

So many people talk about purpose. Why are we here? What were we meant to do with our time here? I haven’t quite figured out my purpose just yet, but I know, with all certainty, Meryl Stevens was put here to love those who lacked love in their lives. That saying when God closes a door, he opens a window; well Blake and Connor had shit for mothers—that door closed for them. But Meryl was their big beautiful window. She gave them the love they desperately needed. And even had some left over for the rest of us.

“You look stunning, Demi. Have you lost weight?”

I chuckle as I stand and put my hands on my hips. “Not since I saw you last week.”

“Well, you do,” she states. Then she looks up at Connor. “She’s a real beauty, isn’t she?”

Connor’s smile softens as he looks from Meryl to me, his gaze certain. “Inside and out,” he answers simply. Guess what. My face feels hot. I smile and push some hair behind my ear.

“Well, you two are going to inflate my ego and make my head five times bigger.”

They both watch me for a moment, but it’s Connor I’m looking at. In my peripheral vision, I see Meryl smile and pat Connor’s hand she’s holding with her free hand.

I tear my eyes away and clear my throat. “Shall we play a game today?”

“Oh, yes,” Meryl replies. “I have a good one.”

We spend the next hour in the rec room of the nursing home playing ‘Who am I?’

Everyone writes down a name and passes it to the person next to them, but that person can’t look. They have to lick the back of the paper and stick it to their foreheads. Then you take turns asking questions trying to figure out who you are. Again, I loved watching Connor with Meryl. I never brought Connor up when I visited her. Blake said she became too emotional. The first time I ever breathed his name to her was when I told her I was going to pick him up and bring him home. She immediately fell into a fit of tears. Now I see why. She’s missed him. These boys may have been her grandsons, put upon her by her worthless daughters, but they were her babies and always will be. She lost one baby, now she gets one back. And with that thought, my heart swells a little. There’s no denying that Blake wanted to help Connor, no doubt about that. But bringing Connor home wasn’t all about helping Connor. It was for Grams, too. And because of my beautiful husband, I get to be a part of this. I get to see two people overwhelmed with happiness because they’ve been reunited.

After we finish playing, I excuse myself to give them some time alone. I walk around outside and call Wendy to let her know we’ll be stopping by her house in a bit after we go to Meryl’s storage unit and collect some of Connor’s things she had kept for him.