Coming Home to Seashell Harbor (Seashell Harbor #1) - Miranda Liasson Page 0,3
can run up and say hi. I know you’re upset, but now’s not the time to get into this with her, okay?”
Hadley restrained herself from a snarky teenage comeback: I know. Geez, Mom and Dad. “I get it,” she said instead, climbing out of the car and walking through the sliding double doors into the hospital. Somewhere in the floors above, her grandmother was lying in pain, anxious for surgery.
Gran was in the hospital. The villain of her teenage life was back in town, waiting to get his big baller hands on Gran’s building. Hadley’s beloved Pooch Palace was going under faster than a king tide. This was not the welcome home she’d imagined.
* * *
A few minutes later, Hadley burst into Gran’s hospital room, out of breath from climbing six flights of stairs because she hadn’t wanted to wait for the elevator. But her grandmother was asleep in her bed, looking a little aged and frail. Her hair had gotten whiter, creases lining her face a little more prominently than she’d noticed in their frequent FaceTime sessions.
She sat down on the vinyl chair in the corner next to the window, trying not to tear up. Flower arrangements adorned the sill despite the fact that Gran hadn’t even gone into surgery yet. Hadley randomly flipped up the tag on the most beautiful one, a massive bouquet of yellow roses.
Thinking of you. Tony
“Show-off,” she mumbled. It would be just like him to send flashy displays of flowers. “But where’s the chocolate?” Cam had always been an overachiever.
“Did someone say chocolate?” A weak voice emanated from the bed. Hadley took one look at her grandma and forced back tears again before going in for a hug.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so glad you’re back.” Gran leveled her gaze with Hadley’s. “You’re thin and wan. But nothing we can’t fix.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Hadley said. “Worry about you.”
“Tony was here,” Gran said instead, a little groggily. “He told me to tell you hi.”
Hadley smiled for her grandmother’s sake, but secretly thought she’d like to tell him a few things too. However, hi was not high on the list.
“Hadley, I have to tell you something.” Gran took both of Hadley’s hands in hers. “I’m sure you’ve heard that Tony wants to buy my building.” Hadley started to speak but Gran shushed her. “You must promise not to judge him too harshly.”
Hadley pursed her lips before she said something upsetting, like How could you? Instead, she squeezed her grandmother’s hands. “Don’t worry, Gran. I’m going to be here all summer to help you with the business and to help you recover. You know I love the Palace just as much as you do.”
Gran pointed to the little table between her bed and the wall. “He left you something.”
Hadley’s gaze followed to where Gran pointed. No. It could not be. Hanging off the edge of the bedside table, right underneath the flowers her mom must have brought from her garden, was a sticky note, rippling slightly in the current from the air-conditioning.
A yellow sticky note.
Bile rose in her throat as she reached forward and snatched it.
Underneath the words, he’d scrawled his phone number. She calmly pocketed the note, but pure unmitigated anger made her crumple it into a little ball inside her pocket.
Just then, her parents walked in, along with Gran’s nurse and a tall guy in scrubs with a kind smile. “Hi, Mrs. Edwards,” he said. “I’m Nasir. I’ll be taking you down to surgery.”
“Let’s get this over with so I can dance the two-step again,” Gran said as the family all kissed her. Her voice was cheery, but Hadley detected a tinge of bravado. Just before she was wheeled out the door, she gave Hadley a wink and whispered, “Don’t forget the shake.”
As Hadley and her parents prepared to trek down to the surgical waiting room, her mom stifled a yawn. “It’s been a long day already,” she said. “At some point I’ve got to run home and grab some overnight things.”
“I’d love to stay with her,” Hadley said. “I’ve already got all my stuff with me.” She glanced at the ugly beige chair in the corner. Not exactly the bed she’d planned on sleeping in, but it would do.
As she walked out of the room, her fingers brushed against her pants pocket, reminding her of the note. She pulled it out to analyze one last time, struggling to tamp down her anger.
Two things came to mind. One, Cam’s handwriting was just as bad as ever.