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Authors: Karen White-Owens

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BOOK: You're All I Need
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26

After more than a week, all of Grandma Ruth's tests were finished. The Edwardses invited their children to the consultation with Dr. Ernst to hear his evaluation.

On Friday morning, the entire Edwards family crammed into Dr. Ernst's tiny office. Tia and Chris arrived to find the rest of her family already there. Mr. and Mrs. Edwards, Junior, Andre, Andrew, and Nia waited nervously for additional information about their precious Ruth Wilson. Tia stopped, scanning the room for an empty seat. Tia's mother waved her over, pointing at the spot next to her. One empty chair remained. Tia turned to Chris with a question on her lips.

“Don't worry about me,” he said. “Go. Sit.” He stood against the wall next to her chair.

Tia took a quick glance at the people in the room. As usual, her father sat calmly next to her mother. One hand rested on his wife's hand; the other sat still on his knee.

In contrast, Tia's mother looked like she would pop at any moment. With one arm stretched across her middle, she rocked slightly back and forth. This situation was almost more than she could handle.

From her father to her twin, everyone appeared on edge. Nia worried her rose-colored lipstick away as she chewed the corner of her mouth and picked at her nails, working the polish from one finger. After a moment, she jumped to her feet and restlessly moved around the office. She paused here and there, reading the certificates, degrees, and diplomas that littered the office walls. She returned to her chair, flopped down, and started sorting through her purse, pulling items out and then returning everything before zipping it up.

Her brothers fumbled with their cell phones as if the electronic devices presented a lifeline to the world. Andre kept turning the item over and over in his hands as the moments ticked away, while Andrew flipped open the letter pad, tapped on the mini-keyboard, and snapped it shut. Junior kept moving around the room. His hands were shoved into his trouser pockets, and his gaze kept darting to the door.

Tia's belly churned with nervousness. She didn't have a good feeling about the outcome for the day. She believed that whatever the doctor told them would change and upset everyone in the family.

Frowning, Mrs. Edwards touched her husband's hand and asked, “Didn't we agree to nine o'clock?”

Mr. Edwards nodded, patted his wife's hand, and said in a reassuring tone, “Nine it was. Remember, Dr. Ernst has other patients. We have to wait our turn.”

She sighed, toying with the strap of her handbag. “I know. Waiting is making me nervous.”

He smiled at his wife and said, “It'll be fine. Whatever happens, we'll figure things out and work it out together.”

They exchanged a look that communicated something special between them. Mrs. Edwards laid her head on her husband's shoulder. “You're a good husband. You've always been with me, no matter what.”

“That's my job.” Tia's father kissed Mrs. Edwards's forehead and smiled gently at his wife. “I try. To me, that's what marriage is about.”

Dr. Ernst entered the room with a thick manila folder in his hand. “Good morning. How is everyone?”

An assortment of “hellos” and “good mornings” followed.

Mrs. Edwards sat stiffly in her chair. Mr. Edwards patted her hand and whispered, “Don't forget, it's going to be just fine.”

Tia let out a shaky breath. That little sound must have reached Chris's ears. He linked their fingers, stroking the sensitive skin near her thumb. Her insides were quivering with worry. Finally, they were going to get information that would make it possible for them to start planning Granny's recovery.

Tia focused on Dr. Ernst. He didn't look much different from the first time they entered his office as children. Over the years, Mrs. Edwards had called upon Dr. Ernst to get their school shots when their pediatrician was booked. During one long summer, he put a cast on Andrew when he fell off his bike and broke his arm.

Standing at five feet eleven, Dr. Ernst had a booming voice that commanded attention, but he could also be soft and soothing when necessary. A thick, bushy mustache graced his upper lip and was in contrast to the thinning dark hair on his head. His narrow face and sharp, all-seeing dark eyes reminded Tia of a hawk ready to pounce.

He took his chair behind the desk and opened the file. He lifted the frame of his narrow glasses and readjusted them on his nose. “The neurologist and I discussed Mrs. Wilson's case. She did have a stroke last week. We've done a battery of tests and have found that her motor skills have been affected by her illness.”

“What does that mean?” Mrs. Edwards asked.

“Your mother is having trouble walking. Speech is a problem. Each of you has been in her hospital room at one time or another. When you ask her a question, she uses every form of communication except verbal. When she speaks, it's a slow and difficult process. Plus, it's almost impossible to understand her.”

“Which side of her body is affected, Dr. Ernst?” Mr. Edwards asked.

He tapped the right side of his head. “The stroke hit the right side of her brain. Her sight is slightly hindered. From the MRI, I'm happy to say that she doesn't have any residual blood clots or tumors. I think she'll be just fine once we stabilize her medicine and get her into a regimen that will help her.”

“What caused the stroke?” Andrew questioned.

Nia held her belongings tightly. Tia understood how badly her sister felt about Grandma Ruth. She blamed herself for what happened.

“Well”—he paused and then continued—“your grandmother has admitted to peppering her diet with too many bad foods like potato chips, pork skins, and ham sandwiches. I believe she'll be fine once all of her vitals return to normal and she stops eating unhealthy snacks.”

Leaning against the wall, Junior asked, “How do we get her back on her feet?”

“First thing we're going to do is put her in rehab,” Dr. Ernst replied.

Mrs. Edwards raised a hand to interrupt the physician. “Wait. Have you said anything to my mother about this?”

“No. I thought your mother would handle the situation better if her whole family visited when I bring up the topic.”

“Are you sure this conversation wouldn't go better with just you and her?” Tia's mother inquired.

“No.” The doctor continued. “Your mother will go to rehab for a few months. Physical therapy will help her regain her strength and ability to walk. The facility also has speech therapists on site. That'll provide some support for her communication problems.”

“Where do we come in? What should we do?” Andre asked.

“Your grandmother is going to need your support, encouragement, and help. This is not going to be easy for her. She's going to be living away from home for a good part of the year without the benefit of everything she's used to. You're going to have to make it comfortable. I want to see you visit the site often. She'll need you.”

“That's not a problem,” Nia stated. “We'll be right there for her.”

Dr. Ernst closed the file. “I don't doubt it. I'll see you and your siblings at Mrs. Wilson's bedside.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know this is difficult and you're not going to like the next part, but I have to recommend it. Allow her to vent when she's frustrated, but don't do things for her. Let her accomplish them on her own. Don't coddle her. She needs to learn how to function on her own again.”

Surprise lit up Mrs. Edwards's face. “Are you saying we should ignore her needs? Not help her when she needs us?”

Dr. Ernst lifted his glasses from his nose and then returned them to the exact same spot. “I'm suggesting you should let her help herself. You're not doing your mother any good if you do all the work for her. While in rehab, she'll learn how to function independently. Let her do that without interference.”

Shaking her head, Mrs. Edwards said, “I don't know. I can't do that. That's my mother. What kind of daughter would I be if I ignore her when she needs me?”

The doctor lifted a hand. “Let me explain further. I'm not saying ignore her. Think of her as a baby who needs encouragement when she's learning to walk. You don't pick up your child each and every time she falls. There are times when you let her fall and wait until she picks herself up. That's the attitude you need for Mrs. Wilson.”

The Edwards family talked among themselves as they considered what Dr. Ernst had suggested.

“This might be the hardest thing you've ever done for your mother,” the doctor stated. “In the long run, you'll hinder her recovery if you supply all of her needs.”

“I don't know,” Mrs. Edwards said.

Tia touched her mother's hand. “It makes sense, Momma. We're so used to helping that it doesn't seem right to let her struggle. But it is.”

Mrs. Edwards latched on to her daughter's hand. “Will you help?”

“Of course.”

Clutching her hand, Tia's mother demanded, “Promise me!”

“Momma!” Tia replied.

“Make a promise,” Jackie Edwards insisted.

Shrugging, Tia said, “Okay. I promise. I'll be here for you and Granny.”

Mrs. Edwards sighed. “Thank you. I'll need your help to get through this.”

Tia squeezed her mother's hand. “I'll always be here to help you.”

She stroked Tia's cheek. “You're the best, Tia-Mia.”

Tia glanced Chris's way. He stood stiff and unyielding. His face looked as if it were carved in granite.
What's going on with him?
she wondered.

Chris spoke up in his French-accented voice. “Dr. Ernst, will Mrs. Wilson get better? Will she be all right?”

The doctor's sharp gaze moved over to the Frenchman. “I have all the faith in modern medicine and her strong personality that she will recover completely.” He lifted a finger and waved it in the air. “Remember, all the work is hers. She must make up in her mind that she wants to get back on her feet.”

“And now? Is she in danger?” Chris asked.

“No. She's stable. The treatment team wouldn't move her or release her to the rehab if there was any danger of her having another stroke.”

“Excellent.” Nodding, Chris gave the doctor a vague, unfocused smile and leaned back against the wall.

“When will my mother-in-law be transferred?” Tia's father asked.

“The day after we talk to her,” the doctor responded. “I want the family to be at her bedside when I talk to her. I don't want her to feel like she's going to a facility to be abandoned by her family.”

“We'd never do that.” Junior pushed away from the wall and moved closer to the doctor's desk. “She's our family. We work together.”

“Perfect,” the physician said. “Let's talk to her tomorrow morning, say about ten?”

“Sure.”

“Yeah.”

“Works for me.”

Dr. Ernst rose and so did Tia's parents. He extended his hand, first to Mrs. Edwards and then to Mr. Edwards.

“I'll see everyone tomorrow morning at the hospital at ten.” He edged his way to the door and opened it. He held it open as the Edwards family filed out of the office.

Silently, Chris followed Tia out of the office and to the car. She felt an undercurrent of something. Tia couldn't put a name to the emotion sizzling below the surface. Chris held open the elevator door for her, and they descended to the first floor in silence.

Something's off,
she thought as a chill iced her skin. Tia rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms as they exited the building.

27

Tia and Chris stepped into the sunshine. She turned to him and asked, “Do you want to stop for something to eat before we head back?”

He shook his head, moving through the rows of parked cars toward her Velocity. “No. Let's get on home.”

Surprised, Tia paused outside the medical building and stared after her fiancé before hurrying to catch up with him. He always enjoyed discovering new cuisine when they were out. She climbed into the passenger seat and snapped her seat belt into place. Chris did the same, then started the engine and headed toward the freeway.

They made the entire drive home in silence. Cars whizzed by them as they cruised along I-75 on their way to downtown Detroit. Tia kept snatching quick glances at Chris as they traveled, trying to gauge his mood and his reaction to the meeting. Unfortunately, his poker face gave nothing away.
With that expression,
she thought,
he might be able to work his way through the Detroit casinos.

All too soon and without a word being spoken, Chris turned into the court where she lived, stopped outside her town house, and hit the remote on the visor. The garage door rattled and groaned as it opened. Chris pulled the SUV into the empty space, switched off the engine, and shifted in the driver's seat to face her. Hands tightly clenching the steering wheel, Chris asked quietly, “Can we talk?”

Tia ran a gaze over the man next to her. His unyielding posture made her heart skip a beat. Butterflies hatched and flitted inside her belly. Darnell had been the last person to say those words, and look what happened to their relationship. Tia wrapped her hand around the door handle.
No, I don't want to talk,
she thought.
But I need to know what's rolling around in your head.
“Sure. Come on in.”

“Thanks.” Chris handed the car keys to Tia. Always the gentleman, he exited the vehicle, hurried around the front to open the passenger door, and helped Tia out. Together, they entered the town house and headed for the living room.

Tia tossed her purse on the sofa and stood uneasily in the center of the living room. She shoved a shaky hand inside her pant pocket, wondering what she should do next.
Turn on the television? Make a snack?
“Do you want anything to drink or eat?”

Stonefaced, he shook his head. “No. I'm fine.”

With nothing more to say, Tia moved to the leather recliner and sank into it. She picked up the remote to turn on the television. Chris removed it from her hands and placed it on the glass-top coffee table. “Let's talk first.”

That got her full attention. Those words and his action signaled the beginning of a serious conversation. “Okay.”

Chris perched on the edge of the matching ottoman, close to her feet. He took her left hand in both of his, fingering her engagement ring. With an unnerving stare, Chris held her gaze with his own. “Sweetheart,” he began, stroking her hand and speaking in a soft, comforting tone, “we don't have another three months. We've already used up the two additional weeks Reynolds gave us. He's expecting you and me to leave any day and for me to take over the France office immediately. That office won't run forever by itself or without supervision. There are items that need my attention.”

Tia felt the edge of hysteria bubble up inside her and threaten to explode. Her question came out in a high, shrill tone although she tried hard to maintain her calm. “What am I supposed to do, Chris? My family needs me right now. I can't leave.”

“Don't you mean you can't leave your mother?”

“Her, too.” Her insides churned, but Tia's voice dropped an octave and added an accusatory note when she asked the next question. “What are you trying to say?”

In an act of surrender, Chris raised his hands, palms up. The expression on his face changed from concern to loving. “I understand how important your grandmother is to you. My family means the world to me, too. But we have plans and there are people expecting us. There are things that need to be done. I'm not trying to stir up any trouble or cause you more distress, but”—he paused—“I should have returned to France a month ago.”

Her mother's worried and stressed features flashed before her. Didn't he understand how all of this affected and upset her life? “Chris, my grandmother is sick,” she insisted.

“No, Tia.” Chris placed a hand on her knee. “Your grandmother is on the mend and getting better. Dr. Ernst made that very clear today. She wouldn't be heading to rehab if he had any doubts about her health.”

“You make it sound as if she got sick on purpose. Grandma Ruth didn't have a stroke to make life difficult for you. She got ill and ended up in the hospital.”

“Yes, she did. But now Mrs. Wilson is getting better and will be able to get on with her life after her time in the facility. We need to do the same.”

“That's just it.” She linked her hands together to try and stop them from shaking as she spoke. “It's not over for my family or me. The real work has just started. My family will need me even more once Grandma Ruth is transferred.”

“Not every second,” he contradicted. “She'll be in a place that will provide all of the assistance she will require. Even if she did need twenty-four-hour care, it's not up to you to give it. You have four siblings and two parents willing and available to help. They all understand that you have other obligations.”

She shook her head. “You don't understand. Everyone expects me to do my share, to help with my grandmother's care.”

“No, they don't,” Chris disagreed. “I've talked with Junior, Nia, and your twin brothers together and separately. They've encouraged me to get on the plane and go home and take you with me.”

Stunned, her mouth dropped open. Tia couldn't believe Chris had done that. “I can't leave right now. You heard the doctor. We're at a critical point in my grandmother's care, and I need to be here.”

“Who says that it's imperative that you be here, Dr. Ernst or any other physician? Your grandmother?” he asked.

“No.” She felt trapped between loyalty toward her family and the man she loved. Why couldn't he understand and give her time to sort through her family's needs?

He shrugged in that French way of his and said, “Then I don't see the problem. We can leave next week.”

“I can't,” Tia countered. “Not now.”

“When?” Chris shot back.

Tia gnawed on her bottom lip. “Maybe in a few weeks, a month at the most. Once Grandma Ruth begins responding to her therapy, then we can think about moving to France.”

“We can't go on that long.”

Those quietly spoken words hung in the room like a scream. This time, her heart kicked into a gallop. She tried to calm herself, but fear grew inside her and ate away at her calm façade. “What are you really saying?”

“I love you, and I want you to come to France with me.”

“I love you, too.”

“I can't stay in Detroit much longer.”

That was the second jolt to her system. An incredible sense of loss followed that question.
Would he leave me?
she wondered.
Of course not.
Chris loved her and wanted to be with her.

Deep down, she knew everything that Chris was saying was true. Reynolds had been generous by granting them additional time, but the move to the home office must happen soon. However, she wanted and needed Chris to understand her predicament as well.

Tia swallowed hard and asked, “You're planning on leaving?”

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a gush of hot air. “Yes.”

The question and Chris's answer scared her. She didn't know what to say. Granted, she knew he needed to leave, but she didn't believe he would push her to make a choice. “Are you asking me to choose between you and my family?”

“No. I'm asking you to come with me like we planned.”

The telephone interrupted her next comment. Tia decided to ignore it in favor of finishing their discussion. After the third ring, the answering machine kicked in, and the musical voice of her mother could be heard throughout the first floor.

“Hi, Tia-Mia. This is your mom.”

Chris went still. He gazed at Tia with an “I told you so” gleam in his eyes while they listened without comment to Tia's mother.

“I know you're probably busy, but I wanted to let you know that I just spoke with Dr. Ernst. He wrote the script for your grandmother's transfer. Mother will be moved sometime tomorrow afternoon. Junior volunteered to be with her once she's been moved until after dinner. I'm going to the hospital and then follow the ambulance to the rehab facility. By the way, it's called Lexington Rehab Center. You can find it on Eighteen Mile and Orchard Lake roads. When you can get off work, I want you to meet me there.”

Hissing out a hot breath, Chris stood. He shoved his hands into his pockets and paced the living room floor.

“Anyway, the twins will take the first few days. Your sister will do a couple of days in a row, and then it'll be your turn. But we'll talk about that tomorrow while the staff at the center gets mother settled.” Tia heard the happiness and pleasure in her mother's voice. “I'm so glad you've decided to help. It will make the transition easier for everyone. I know this is a difficult time for you, and I really appreciate you helping me. Love you. See you tomorrow.”

He loomed over Tia. “Your mother keeps hammering home how much she needs you. She won't give you a minute's break.”

“Chris, that's totally unfair.”

“No, it's not. I truly wish it was.” He ran his hand through his hair. The blond locks stood on end in every direction.

Fed up with the back-and-forth, Tia decided to put all of her cards on the table. “Say what you've got to say, Chris.”

He studied Tia for a long, silent moment. “I will.”

Chris stared down at her. She got the impression that he was considering how far he should take this. The determination in his expression let her know that he was about to go all the way. “I'm saying you're allowing your mother to manipulate you and divide us. She's using your grandmother's illness to hold you close and keep you from leaving Michigan with me.”

Enough is enough,
Tia thought, jumping to her feet and practically yelling, “You're wrong. You will not talk about my mother that way. Momma wants me to be happy, for us to be happy. She'd never do anything to destroy that. I would never let her make my decisions for me.”

“Prove it,” he challenged.

“What?” She shook her head and shrugged. “How?”

“Our tickets expire on the thirty-first. I plan to use mine.” Chris held out his hand. “Come with me.”

Frantic and feeling cornered, Tia took a step back, shaking her head. “No. I can't do that yet. Can't you understand and be a little more considerate? I need more time to get my mother and grandmother settled.”

Chuckling, he took a step closer to her. “Let's say I agree, Reynolds is fine with the wait, and your grandmother gets better.” The frustration and agitation in Chris's accent became more pronounced. He paced back and forth in front of her. “What happens when your mother comes up with a new excuse? Another reason why you can't leave yet? What am I supposed to do with that? How do I explain it to Reynolds or my family? There are many people involved in this situation, not just you and me. When will you be able to come with me?”

“Chris!” Tia replied, tossing her hands into the air. “I don't have an answer for you. Anything can happen and I need to be close until I feel more comfortable with leaving. We're crossing the Atlantic. I don't want to worry. You have a large family. I expected you to understand.”

“I do, but my family and I both understand that I have a life of my own. There's a time when my job or something in my life may prevent me from being with them.”

Tia recognized the hurt on his face, and her attitude quickly softened. Just as quickly, she thought about her mother's pitiful request to help her, and Tia hardened her heart against Chris and his demands. “I can't agree to anything right now. Everything is up in the air. I thought you understood that. My mother needs me.”

“What about
our
life? The plans we made for
our
future. Are you willing to walk away from everything we mean to each other?” He sank onto the sofa next to her and took her hands. “Please don't let your mother destroy our future.”

Bringing his hands to her lips, she kissed them. “You've got the wrong impression of my mother. She would never, never deliberately destroy my happiness.”

“Then come with me.”

Every fabric of her being wanted to say yes, to pack her bags and get on that plane with him. But she had made a promise to her mother and she couldn't leave. Not yet. Maybe soon. “I can't. Not yet.”

Nodding, Chris dropped her hands and rose. “I see.”

Worried, Tia stood and tried to touch him. He sidestepped her. “You understand, don't you?” she asked.

Chris stared at the carpet and then shook his head. “No. I don't. You know where I'm headed. Give me a call if you change your mind.”

Chris leaned closer and kissed Tia. He poured all of himself into that kiss. Tia found herself caught up in the moment, trying to get closer to him and rubbing herself against his warmth. Moaning, Chris broke away from her. He caressed her cheek. “Good-bye, Tia.”

He stepped around her and headed down the hall to the front door. The slamming of the door was the next thing she heard.

Shocked and confused, Tia dropped back onto the sofa. He'd left. This was the last thing she expected. They should have yelled, fussed, and then worked through some sort of compromise.

Chris was angry. After he calmed down and thought about their situation, he'd give her a call and then they could talk.

BOOK: You're All I Need
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