The Secret of Ella and Micha(18)

"But I can try," I mutter and sit up, tossing the pillow off my lap. "You remember what I was like. All the crap I did. The stupid, irresponsible crap. I was a wreck waiting to happen and that night proved it. I almost... I... I almost killed myself."

"No, you didn't. I heard the story and you would have never gone through with it," he says confidently. "You were just trying to sort through some stuff. You still are."

"No, I was going to do it," I tell him, but it's a lie. "My mind may have been hindered, but I remember enough to know that when I climbed on top of that bridge, I was going to jump."

He shakes his head. "Then you don't remember what happened afterward with Micha."

"Yeah, I do." I take a faltering breath. "I kissed him and then left him on the bridge. Then I went home, packed up my stuff, and ran away."

"No, something else happened that night." His forehead scrunches. "Micha took you somewhere else. At least that's what he told me."

I scratch at my wrist, trying to recollect, but the events of that day are hazy. "I don't remember this at all."

"From what I understand you were out of it and pretty upset. Those two are not a good combination. Trust me, I've been there." His fingers seek his cane. "Micha saved you from jumping, but there's more to it than that."

"When you say you've been there, what do you mean exactly?"

"I mean, I've been at the place where it seems like the only way left is down."

I sift through his words. "You know, I came here to see if you're okay, and somehow all we've talked about is me."

"And that's exactly what I need," he says. "I'm sick and tired of everyone wanting to talk about my death."

I open my mouth, but the front door squeaks open. I expect Micha, but a middle-aged woman in black sweat pants and a white t-shirt walks in. Her bleached hair is woven into a braid and she's carrying a large black bag.

She grins at Grady as she shuts the door. "You're being bad again. You know you're not supposed to get out of bed."

Grady rolls his eyes, but his face lights up. "Yep, I've been bad. I guess you'll have to punish me."

I try to ignore their disturbing comments the best that I can, but it's ridiculously awkward.

"Ella, this is Amy." His serious demeanor alleviates as he says her name.

I stand up from the couch to shake hands with Amy, noticing there's no ring on her finger. "Are you his nurse?"

Grady starts to balance to his feet and she moves to help him, but he waves her off. "I got this. I'm not crippled yet. "

She sighs and moves back. "Yes, I'm his nurse and I'm supposed to be taking care of him, but he's a stubborn man and refuses to let me do my job properly."

He growls and then chuckles. Using his cane, he heads toward the hall, his feet dragging along the orange shaggy carpet. "Ella, can you stop by tomorrow? I want to talk to you some more."

"Okay, I'll come back," I promise as he vanishes down the hall. I turn to the nurse. "How bad is he?"

She drops the bag on the counter and unzips it. "What did he tell you?"

"That he has cancer," I tell her as she takes out some baggies from the bag. "But that's all. He doesn't like to open up about himself."

Reaching into her bag, she extracts a handful of prescription bottles. "No, he doesn't, does he?" She shakes a bottle filled with clear liquid. "He has stage four bone cancer."

I nearly fall to the floor. "Stage four, but then that means that..."

"It means that he has a hard, short road ahead of him," she says frankly. "You're Ella Daniels, right? And your father is Raymond Daniels?"

My fingers grasp the fabric of the recliner like it's a lifeline. "Yeah, why?"

"No reason," she says with a shrug. "Grady just talks about you sometimes."

"But you know my father," I state warily.

She zips up her bag and shuffles to the kitchen sink with the medication. "I was the nurse on call the night he was run over."

Because he was drunk out of his mind and decided to ride his bike in the middle of the highway. "So you take care of Grady, here at his home?"

She turns on the faucet and fills up a glass of water. "I'm the home nurse he hired after he decided he didn't want to spend his last months in a hospital bed."

He only has months left? I need to regain control of the spiraling situation. I stumble for the door. "Tell Grady I'll see him tomorrow."

I trip down the steps and nearly eat dirt. Luckily Micha is at the bottom and he drops his phone to catch me.

He steadies me to my feet, his fingers digging into my hips as he looks me over with concern. "Okay, what happened?"

"He's dying," I whisper, staring out at the dry field. "He's really dying."

"I know." Micha holds onto me forcefully, the tips of his fingers touching my bare skin. "I told you this before we came over here."

My lungs restrict oxygen. "I thought when you said it... well, I don't know what I thought, but not this." I wave my hand at the door without looking at it. "Not a nurse. Not a few months left."