Shirley Grant hesitated. What should she do? After thinking for a long ti, she spoke tentatively.
"Daddy is injured; he’s in the hospital."
She looked into his eyes, searching for sothing, but all she could discern was heartache. Yes, heartache. Seeing this in such a young child’s eyes, she found it hard to believe.
"His injury is severe, Gerry Peary. Be good and wait. When Daddy is better, Mommy will take you to see him, okay?" Shirley Grant comforted him, hoping he would agree.
"I want to see Daddy. Is Daddy in a lot of pain?" A deep longing still filled Gerry Peary’s watery eyes; he was very eager to go with Shirley Grant.
Shirley Grant didn’t hesitate much longer and nodded.
In the afternoon, she took Gerry Peary by taxi to the Private Hospital.
Alan Morgan was still in the Intensive Care Unit. This ti, both his father and mother were there.
Shirley Grant led Gerry Peary over. From a distance, she could already see Mr. and Mrs. Morgan.
"Gerry Peary, rember to call them Grandpa and Grandma, okay?" Shirley Grant quickly whispered to Gerry Peary, who imdiately nodded obediently.
Mrs. Morgan was sitting on a bench and, from a distance, saw Shirley Grant walking over with a little boy.
She had expected Shirley Grant to co.
Today, after Mr. Morgan saw that ssage, he had vented his anger on her for a long ti.
"Grandpa, Grandma."
They quickly approached Mr. and Mrs. Morgan. Shirley Grant hadn’t said a word yet when Gerry Peary broke the silence.
"You..."
Only Shirley Grant knew how much Mr. Morgan despised her.
Yet, upon seeing the little boy, he froze.
His features were strikingly similar to Alan’s as a child, and he was incredibly adorable.
"This is?" Mrs. Morgan, shocked, squatted down to look at the little boy, her face filled with disbelief, her voice trembling.
"Alan’s child. He’s seven years old this year."
Seven years seed to have passed in an instant at this mont.
"Alan’s?" Mrs. Morgan reached out and touched Gerry Peary’s cheek.
"Yes." Shirley Grant nodded. Although she still felt Mr. Morgan’s hostility, she sensed none from Mrs. Morgan.
"Sweet child, what’s your na?" Mrs. Morgan looked gently at Gerry Peary, her eyes red and welling with tears.
"I’m called Gerry Peary. My full na is Wilson Grant."
When Gerry Peary saw Mrs. Morgan’s tears fall, he looked anxiously at Shirley Grant.
"Mommy, Grandma is crying. Did I upset her?" Gerry Peary’s small, childlike voice tugged at the heartstrings.
Before Shirley Grant could say anything, Mrs. Morgan hurriedly spoke. "No, no, Grandma isn’t upset. Grandma is just too happy, so very happy."
She had a grandson! For so many years, her biggest concerns had been Alan’s marriage and when she would finally be able to hold a grandchild. Now, she had a grandson! This was wonderful!
Shirley Grant no longer looked at Mrs. Morgan. Instead, she turned her head towards the glass of the Intensive Care Unit. Behind the glass lay Alan Morgan, his upper body bare.
His face was pale, and he was on a respirator, his body covered with dical instrunts. She had initially thought the photograph in the newspaper was an exaggeration, but seeing him in person now, she felt the picture hadn’t co close to capturing his horrifying pallor.
Tears stread down her face. She reached out to touch the glass, wanting to get a clearer look at him. It had only been a few days since they’d last seen each other, yet it felt like centuries. He was completely changed now, almost unrecognizable.
Mrs. Morgan led Gerry Peary to her side.
"You should go in and see him."
User Comments
0 comments from readers