As promised, here is chapter one. I know you guys are out there, and I know you can show more love! Don't be shy. It makes it more fun!

There are time jumps in this chapter, so read carefully. Oh, and I've decided to give chapter titles a try! Hooray!

Chapter One

Belief

"They think he had a stroke." I stood there, words sticking to my tongue like paste. My grandfather flashed behind my eyes...his laugh, his smile, our last conversation.

"I have to go!" Mom shut off the stove and ran upstairs to her bedroom to change, while I sat with Grandma Karen. I didn't talk, only listened as Grandma called Andy to get to the house as soon as he could. Mom was absolutely frantic trying to put on jeans and a sweatshirt. She ran down the stairs, tears in her eyes. "I have bottles of milk in the refrigerator, Karen..."

Grandma stood up. "I got this. I called Andy; he's coming right now, and he's going to take you to the hospital. OK?"

"Okay..." Mom wiped at her eyes, and suddenly made her way to the front porch. Grandma and I looked at each other, then we made our way to follow her.

Mom stood on the front porch, staring at the street where Andy would be driving down to fetch her any minute now.

"Peyton..." Grandma said, her voice full of lament.

When Andy's car finally approached, Mom turned and was crying. "You take care of my babies," she said, holding onto Grandma for steadiness.

"Of course, of course," Grandma said. She wiped Mom's tears away with her thumb. "Peyton, I have it. I have all of them. You just go. OK? Just go."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Andy tried hard to keep up with Peyton when they pulled up to the hospital's emergency entrance. Her walk was brisk and quick, and she didn't relax until she saw Lucas. He was leaning on the door of an inconspicuous trauma room, his hand covering his eyes. It was obvious to anyone that he was anxious–a rare sight for a man usually so calm in crisis.

"Luke!"

He turned and his face fell. "Hey," he said. He opened his arms and Peyton ran into them.

"Is he conscious? What's going on?"

"He's in there," Lucas pointed to behind him. "But he's having trouble moving his left side." Lucas took his wife's hand and led her inside. Andy stood behind them.

Larry lay on a hospital bed, looking as frail as Peyton had ever seen him. Doctors and nurses surrounded him, the air around him somber and morose.

"….Dad?" Peyton asked, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Ms. Sawyer?" came a gentle, yet assured, voice.

Peyton looked past Lucas to her right. She hadn't heard that name in years. A man stood in a white coat and light blue scrubs wearing glasses. "I'm Dr. Beiringer. I gave your father what's called a tPA, or a tissue plasminogen activator, which is given through this IV in his arm," Dr. Beiringer motioned to the IV in Larry's arm. "Since your husband acted fast, the tPA was administered early enough that it could improve your father's chances of recovery from this ischemic stroke. Mr. Sawyer is a candidate for an endovascular procedure called a mechanical thrombectomy, in which we try to remove the large blood clot with a wired cage device. We have to thread a catheter through an artery in the groin up to the blocked artery in his brain. It's very dangerous, but it would improve his chances of recovery even more. I'd need to do it now."

"OK," Peyton said, feeling dizzy.

"Ms. Sawyer, I need your consent."

"Do it," Peyton said, squeezing Lucas' hand. "Just do it."

Dr. Beiringer nodded and started ordering the staff to prepare the patient. "Let's move, people!"

-x-x-x-EGS-x-x-x-

With the boys asleep, the house was eerie and silent. I went to my room and put on some of Ellie's records just to make some kind of noise, and not feel so alone. I stared at myself in the mirror. I'd gotten a little taller. My hair had grown out longer, still more wavy than curly. My breasts had gotten bigger, too. My legs were still the same, aching with muscle pains, my balance off. The scars remained, jagged stories of my pain, my struggles and triumphs.

I was having my fourth surgery this summer. I had decided for sure, as y'all know, back in April. My mom once asked me, quite harshly, do you want to have a crooked leg for the rest of your life? And I knew then: things had to change.

A knock on the door stole my attention from the mirror. It was my grandmother. "Hey," I said, moving to sit on my bed.

"How're you holding up, kiddo?" she asked, sitting next to me.

"Still in shock, I guess. Just don't know how this could've happened."

"Me either," Grandma said, putting a hand on my back. "But your grandpa Larry is one strong man."

"Yeah...My surgery's gonna get cancelled, isn't it."

Grandma put her hand on my back. "...Well, it could get postponed, at the very least."

I sat with her words.

"Are you hungry? I finished making the eggplant Parmesan, if you want some?"

"I don't think I can eat right now," I answered. "Thanks, though."

"You're welcome."

"Hey, Grandma?"

"Yeah?"

"Adrian's shift ends at 10. Mom said he could come over. I doubt Mom will be back by then, but would it be alright with you if he did stop by? I know he can't spend the night."

Grandma Karen sent me a small smile. "Whatever you need, honey."

Miles' cries resonated through the baby monitor Grandma held in her left hand. "Oh, that's my cue," she joked. "Riley will probably wake up, too."

"I'll go with you," I said, following my grandma to Riley's room, where Miles was temporarily residing until my parents got back. It was just to keep the boys in one place for now.

Miles was bawling, tears cascading from his green eyes, most likely due to hunger. Riley was standing up in his crib across the room, watching his little brother. "Grammy!" he held out his little arms for her.

"Hi handsome," Grandma said, smiling. "One second, let me just get your brother. Look! Ella's here."

Riley's face lit up at the mention of me, and my heart warmed up. "Hi, baby!" I said, and the sight of him made me want to start crying. I wanted to pick him up, but I just couldn't for obvious reasons.

Riley sat up in his bed, which was surrounded by protective guards so he didn't climb out. He began to moan in displeasure.

"Ella, try and lean on the bed and pick him up," Grandma said, holding Miles.

"Uh..." I said, leaning my legs on the guards. Riley reached for me desperately. "Like this?"

"Exactly," Grandma moved to stand next to me. "Lean on the bed, and just reach down now, and pick Riley up."

"What if I lose my balance and drop him?"

"You won't. I'm standing right here."

"But you have Miles."

"Ella, deep breaths, honey. You can do this."

I reached down with both hands while leaning on the crib which remained still. I picked Riley up, and he was heavy. He wrapped his arms around me, and I leaned down to give him little kisses on his temple. "Grandma..." I said, my voice full of panic as I started to lose my balance.

Quickly, Grandma put Miles down and grabbed my arm. "You have him," she said, her voice soothing. "Just put him down on his feet."

With Miles still bawling, I was getting a headache. I slowly leaned down and put Riley down on his feet. He was wearing the cutest little pajamas with music notes on them. "I did it."

"Of course you did," Grandma said, patting my back. She brought Miles up into her arms. "Let me feed this little one."

"I'll feed Riley," I offered, and Grandma smiled and winked at me. "Riley, are you hungry?"

Riley nodded, grinning. "YA!"

I laughed. "Okay then," I motioned to the door. "C'mon, baby!"

Riley reached for my hand. Lately he liked to hold people's hands and pull them along. I could lose my balance. From a 1 and half year old. Pathetic, right? "OK, but no pulling, Ri Ri," I said. "Gentle, OK?"

I gave Riley my hand, and began walking with him. Riley was watching me, and inevitably he started running. So as not to fall in front of my little brother, I let go of his hand. "I'm following you," I said. "Go on."

Riley ran off. The house was entirely baby-proofed, so I didn't have to worry about my brother tumbling down the stairs like I once did. Grandma Karen followed.

Juggling Riley and Miles was proving to be pretty tough. Grandma was feeding Miles, and in the meantime, I sat with Riley on the kitchen floor (since I could not pick him up and put him in his deluxe feeding chair) and watched as he ate a snack. "Good?" I asked him.

Riley nodded, looking adorable with apple sauce all over his mouth. I reached over and wiped his lips with a bib.

Thankfully, Miles was taking the bottle. "I think we got this, Grandma."

"By the grace of God," Grandma joked. She rocked back and forth on her feet and burped my baby brother. "Let me put Miles down and I'll feed Riley," she said, and then made her way back to the boys' room. I watched Riley finish up his apple sauce, and then patted my lap.

"C'mere," I said. Riley, always affectionate and loving, moved into my embrace. I squeezed him tight and kissed the top of his blonde head. "Do you know how much I love you?" I began to tickle him.

He laughed his magical laugh, squirming in my arms. Grandma soon returned, and we put Riley in his chair and fed him some dinner. He knew nothing about the turmoil Mom was going through right now, and I almost envied him.

It was almost 8pm when Grandma Karen got a call from Lucas. "Hi, honey. How is everything?…The boys are fine, Ella is fine. Riley and Miles ate. I'm putting Riley to bed now..." I watched as Grandma's face fell. "Oh, no….OK. It's fine, Lucas. I'll sleep over if you need me to; don't be crazy, I'm here." Grandma passed the phone in my direction. "Your dad."

I took the phone, my heart beginning to pound. "Hi Dad...what's the status?"

I heard my dad take a breath. "They're doing everything they can. The doctor says the next 72 hours are critical. Ella...he had a massive stroke. And I mean, massive."

"Oh," I said, tears in my eyes. "Does he recognize any of you?"

"Yes. But he's having trouble moving his left side still."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "...How's Mom?"

"She's….hanging on. Not really thinking straight, but hanging on."

"Can you tell her I love her?"

"Of course."

"OK," I said.

"I'm really not sure what time we'll be home; are you going to be alright? Did you eat?"

"I'm not really that hungry."

"Try to eat something and get some rest, OK?"

"OK. And just so you know, Adrian's coming over after his shift, after 10. Grandma said it was alright."

"That's fine. I have to get going, but I'll see you soon, OK?"

"OK. Bye."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"That was Ella, yeah?" Andy asked, sitting next to Lucas in the hospital hallway. "Are they managing alright?"

Lucas was about to answer when Peyton approached, and both men stood up. "Was that Ella? Is she OK? Are the boys OK without me?"

"Everything's fine at home, Peyt. Ma's got it covered. Just focus on your dad."

Peyton turned to Andy and said, "You should go. Somebody has to relieve Karen."

Lucas knitted his brows. "Peyton, my mom has it down. It's alright."

"No, it's getting late," Peyton protested. "You both can go, and I can take a cab home later."

"What?" Lucas asked. "Baby, don't be-"

"We're not going to let you just take a cab home, Peyton," Andy said. "If it would make you feel better that Lucas went home in a bit, I can stay with you and drive you home, whenever that may be."

"But..."

"One of us is staying with you," Lucas spoke. "I'm not leaving you alone."

Peyton nodded, leaning into Lucas' chest. "I'm just so scared. He's my dad."

-x-x-x-EGS-x-x-x-

It was 10:15pm. Shortly after Dad called, we read Riley his bedtime story, and he was sound asleep now. Grandma Karen fell asleep on an air mattress in Riley's room. I tried to convince her to just sleep in the guest room, but she didn't want to. I guessed it was because she didn't want to be alone.

I was in my room, laying on my bed and looking at an old photo album tucked away in my bookshelf. There were pictures of baby me and Grandpa Larry. I ran my thumb over his frozen face. Tears stung my eyes, and thankfully my phone rang, a welcome distraction. "...Hi, Lion."

"Hey, baby. I just got out. I'll see you in a bit?"

"...Sure."

"What's wrong?"

Typical of Adrian, to figure out something's wrong in just one word. "Adrian…. my grandfather is in the hospital. He had a massive stroke."

"Fuck. My God, Ella, I'm so sorry. I'm at my car; I'll be there soon, OK? You still want me to come over?"

"My parents are at the hospital and everyone else is asleep. Please come, baby."

"OK, OK, I'm coming."

Not even 15 minutes later, Adrian knocked lightly on the font door. I greeted him with my finger to my lips. He nodded, and followed me upstairs to my room. He sat on my bed and kicked off his shoes, motioned for me to sit next to him. "So, what happened?"

I explained everything. How my dad and grandpa met up at the market, and how Grandpa started showing signs that something was terribly wrong. "A man was there who happened to be a paramedic, and he called for an ambulance."

"…Wow."

"I know. That probably saved my grandpa's life."

Adrian began rubbing my back. "Are you doing OK?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Adrian, what if he dies?" I asked, my voice breaking. "What's gonna happen?"

Adrian exhaled, as though my question knocked the words out of him. "I'm not sure. I'm so sorry, baby, I am. C'mere." he bought me into his arms, and there I stayed, inhaling his scent.

"Can you lay down with me?"

"Of course," Adrian said. His glance danced over the open photo album of my grandfather, and I could see the hurt on his face. "Ella..."

I said nothing, just pulled Adrian by his tee shirt to lie down next to me on the bed. Our legs tangled together, his body heat keeping me warm like nothing else. He kissed my forehead, and I leaned on his chest. "My grandpa's the greatest," I said, the silence suffocating me.

"He's a cool guy."

I heard a noise from downstairs, and the front door opened. "That might be my mom," I said, and I jumped up from the bed and made my way out of the room, Adrian right behind me. I made my way downstairs and instead Dad was there, looking haggard. "…Hey."

"Hi," Dad said, running a hand down his face. "Your mom's still at the hospital, honey."

"OK. Is she with Andy?"

"Yes. He's gonna bring her home probably as soon as they get kicked out." I moved to hug my father, and he put an arm gratefully around me. "You doing okay?"

I nodded. "Trying. Grandma's sleeping."

Dad met Adrian's glance and said, "I don't want you driving home this late; you can stay over. You can sleep on the couch."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When Peyton finally got home, it was past midnight. The house felt different somehow, haunted. After bidding goodnight to Andy who headed to the guest room, she wearily made her way up the stairs. Her body ached and her eyelids were heavy from all the crying. First, she made her way into Riley's room, and calmed seeing her oldest son in deep sleep, and her mother-in-law lightly snoring. Peyton saw that Karen had moved Miles' bassinet to be next to her, so she could keep an eye on both boys. Next, Peyton went to see Ella, who had fallen asleep next to a pile of tissues. The TV was on low, playing some movie Peyton didn't care to identify. Shutting the TV off, Peyton quietly gathered the tissues and bent to kiss her daughter's forehead. Ella stirred slightly, but didn't wake. When Peyton made it to the bedroom she shared with Lucas, she called out his name, her voice scratchy and hoarse.

Lucas emerged silently from the bathroom, leaving the door open only a crack. "Hey," he said, his voice heavy. He opened his arms, and Peyton fell into his embrace. "Shh...come here. Come with me," he said. He held out his hands and Peyton took them without a second thought. Lucas pushed the door to the master bathroom open, to reveal almost every inch of the room lit up in candles, with a bubble bath drawn.

"What is this?"

"My wife's had the day from hell. The least I can do is draw a bath for her."

Peyton just looked at him. She loved this man more and more every passing day. "I'm so tired, Luke," she said.

"Aw, I know," Lucas lamented, and he gently tugged her hand. "A nice hot bath and you'll fall right to sleep," he said, kissing her cheek. "Hm?"

Peyton nodded, her head so heavy it weighed her down.

"Arms up," Lucas said, shutting the door. Peyton lifted her arms over her head, letting her husband undress her with care, tenderness, and love. When she climbed into the bath, the hot water hit her sore muscles and she let out a breath. She leaned her head back and shut her eyes, somehow praying that this was all a dream. "I'll let you relax."

Peyton opened her eyes and saw her husband heading for the door. "Where are you going?" Lucas turned to her and chuckled somberly at seeing her shake her head like a petulant child. "Stay."

Lucas walked over and knelt by the bath, taking the loofah and gently running it over his wife's arms, shoulders, and neck. "It's amazing how everything can change in just a second."

"I know. Luke, I left him just laying there in the hospital!"

"Peyt, you stayed as late as they would allow you to. We'll go first thing in the morning."

Peyton nodded, though still uneasy. She shut her eyes and let Luke continue to wash her, going up her arms and over her chest, soon finishing up and letting her relax, as he stroked her forehead with his thumb. "I just don't understand how this could have happened. He was so healthy..."

Lucas immediately understood. He always thought of Larry Sawyer as tough, though as proved by his severe depression when Anna Sawyer died, not untouchable, invincible. Still, as far as Lucas knew, Larry ate right, stayed active, and was ridiculously independent. He would've hated to be hooked up to all those machines, stuck and weak.

"When we see Dr. Beiringer tomorrow, we'll ask him all the questions we have."

"Were the boys and Ella really OK without me?"

"When I got home everyone was asleep except Ella. I let Adrian sleep over; I didn't want him driving late."

"I figured. Thank you, Luke." For everything. "I love you..."

"I love you, too," Lucas said, pecking his wife's lips. "You ready to get out and go to sleep?"

Peyton nodded, slowly standing on her feet, wherein Lucas put an arm around her and helped her out of the tub, gently wrapping her in a blue towel and leading her to the bed, where he put one of his old, oversized tee shirts over her head. "There you go," he said as she lay back against the pillow. He let go of her hand only to turn off the bathroom light, and to crawl into bed beside her. He then pulled her close, kissed her forehead. "Everything's gonna be OK, Peyton."

She breathed in his words from the air surrounding them both. Though she loved her husband beyond reason, and loved that he was trying to comfort her, she couldn't help but in her mind negate those words. With her husband holding her, Peyton cried herself to sleep.

-x-x-x-EGS-x-x-x-

The next morning, I woke up with my boyfriend's arm around me. When I moved against him, he stirred. "Hey," he said, his grin lopsided and sleepy.

"Hey," I returned. "Did you..."

"I sneaked up here at like two in the morning," Adrian explained. "Nobody noticed. Is that OK?"

"Of course," I said, leaning closer to him. I ran my fingers through his now shorter, (but still thick) hair. "I'm glad you came up here. What time is it?"

Adrian peered at the clock over my shoulder on the night table. "6:10."

"Fuck. I have to get ready to go to school soon." I kissed him several times, and he pulled me close by my waist. "I don't wanna."

Adrian brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. "Are you gonna be alright going to school right now?"

"If I stay home, I'm just gonna worry more. School will distract me." These last few weeks of school were always more fun than work, anyway.

"OK," he sweetly poked my nose with his index finger, something he was known to do.

A guitar solo that was my alarm went off, penetrating the silence. I whined into Adrian's shoulder. "C'mon now. You go shower."

"Fine," I said, turning off the alarm. "Are you gonna shower, too?"

"I could always join you," he said, sending me that sexy smirk of his. I held out my hand. "Oh...really?" he asked, sounding small and adorable. "I was kidding."

"I'm not." Adrian got up off the bed and took my warm hand. "I don't wanna be alone, babe. Really."

"Alright," Adrian said, his tone gentle. "I'm here, beautiful."

I pulled his hand in the direction of the door towards my bathroom. We peered into the hallway with caution, and it was empty. With everything that happened yesterday, Dad's probably making sure Mom's getting lots of rest. I put my finger to my lips, and we quietly walked to my bathroom. Once the door was shut and locked, Adrian undressed me after I put the water on.

Dad completely redid my bathroom and it had a seat, a bar, and a glass door with a detachable shower head. It was pretty sweet.

Adrian and I managed to shower together without getting caught, and once we were both dressed we made our way downstairs, after making sure there was no one to see that Adrian broke Dad's rule. Holding hands, we made our way to the kitchen and stopped short at seeing Grandma Karen sitting at the table, both baby monitors and a mug of steaming hot tea before her.

"Oh," I said, smiling cheekily. "Hi, Grandma."

"Hi, Mrs. Roe," Adrian waved.

Grandma smirked and watched us. She motioned to Adrian and asked, "Did you come from my granddaughter's room?"

"...Yes, ma'am."

"Are you gonna tell my dad?"

Grandma Karen cleared her throat. "I won't scold either of you this time, since there are more important things going on here that deserve our full attention. Right?"

"Right," Adrian and I echoed.

"What can I get you two for breakfast?"

"We can do breakfast, Grandma. You did so much last night."

"We got breakfast covered," Adrian agreed. "I make a mean waffle."

"He does," I said, and Grandma laughed.

"Sounds good. Try and be quiet, though. I don't want to wake up Peyton."

Adrian and I began making waffles for everyone. Shortly after we started, Andy woke up and greeted all of us in his soft, comforting voice. We all froze when we heard my mother's footsteps coming down the stairs. I grabbed Adrian's hand and he squeezed back just as hard.

Mom entered the kitchen, her eyes swollen. She looked so...delicate, like just a puff of wind would knock her down. This isn't the Mom I was used to seeing, but I knew she was only human. I also knew she loved her father so, so much, and this was probably killing her. So, I let go of my boyfriend's hand, and moved to hug my mother. She began to cry in my arms.

"It's going to be OK, Mom," I said, trying to listen to the conviction in my own voice. "It's gonna be OK!"

Andy moved to put his hand on Mom's back to comfort her. Another set of quiet footsteps signaled Dad's arrival.

Mom pulled away, wiping at her face. "Karen..." she said, her voice scratchy and hoarse. "Do you think you can...call my brother? I think he'd want to know."

Grandma nodded right away. "Of course. Don't worry."

"I just...I can't do this."

"I'll take care of it," Grandma said. "I'll take care of it."

"I have to get back to the hospital..." Mom said, looking at Dad.

"Okay, honey. Just, I want you to eat something first."

"Eat what?"

"We're making waffles," Adrian spoke up, his voice gentle.

Mom made a face. "I can't eat."

"How about some toast?" Dad tried, rubbing her back. "Something light."

"No, I can't, Lucas. I just want to go."

Miles' cries broke the heavy silence. Something in Mom's face changed, and she started crying again. "Oh, God..."

"It's OK, Mom," I said quickly. "It's OK. We have both of them; don't worry."

"I didn't even–"

"It's OK," I said again. "Why don't you get dressed."

"Andy and I will stay with them," Grandma said, and Andy nodded. "And we'll make sure Ella and Adrian get to school on time."

"How are you gonna get there?" Dad asked me.

"I can drive her," Adrian spoke. "I'm going that way, too."

"Be careful behind the wheel with my daughter," Mom said.

"Of course."

Mom nodded before going back upstairs, Dad right behind her. Andy followed to attend to Miles and Riley.

Adrian and I finished with the waffles and ate them, watched as Grandma Karen got her cell phone and dialed Uncle Derek and Aunt Lisa.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Derek Sommers bounded down the stairs carrying his pride and joy, his one-year-and-ten-days-old son, Aaron. They'd just had a big first birthday party for him. "Want some breakfast? Let's go!"

Aaron laughed his little laugh. He was a beautiful boy, with Lisa's eyes and lips. When Derek made his way into the kitchen, he saw his wife Lisa with her back to him. "...Hey," he said, his voice wary. Something was off about the way she was standing. "You OK?"

Lisa turned, and there was a look on her face that Derek didn't like one bit. "Der," she said, her voice heavy.

Derek gently put Aaron down, and the little one began his journey around the kitchen island, oblivious to the tension. "…. What happened?"

"That was Karen on the phone. Larry had a massive stroke last night."

"What?! Is he gonna be OK?"

"I don't know. It doesn't sound good, hon."

Derek shook his head, almost as if he was in denial. "I gotta call my sister."

"She's on her way to the hospital with Luke. She probably won't pick up."

"Well, we gotta go see her, then! We can't just stand here."

"I agree," Lisa said, putting our her hand.

"Great; then let's go."

"Take it easy; now?"

"Yes."

"Honey. Who're we gonna leave Aaron with?"

"We'll take him with us; he can play with Riley."

Lisa thought about it for only a second. "Let me just pack a breakfast for him and then we'll go."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Lily Scott was with Andre, and they were still lounging in her bed when her phone rang on the night table. In order to reach for the phone, Lily had to move Andre's arm that was draped across her belly. "Hi Mom…." Lily sat up. "What happened?!"

At that, Andre sat up as well, watching her.

"Will he be OK? How's Peyton?….OK. OK I'll come over. OK bye."

"Something wrong?" Andre asked, his voice full of concern.

"…Larry had a stroke!" Lily pushed the covers off her body and began getting dressed.

"What the hell happened?!"

"He collapsed in the supermarket. Get up! We have to go to my brother's house; my mom needs help with the boys and Aaron."

Andre got up quickly and began pulling jeans over his boxers. "Is he gonna be alright?"

"I don't know," Lily said, distracted. "I don't know."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Mattie! Hurry up, you're gonna be late!" 12 year-old Matthew Scott's footsteps bounded down the stairs and entered the kitchen, backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Do I have to go to school, Mom?" Matthew breathed. "School's almost out for the summer, anyway."

"Yes, you still have to go to school," Haley said, sipping her coffee in a to-go mug. "I thought you were loving the sixth grade?"

"I am," Mattie said, and revealed nothing else. Haley remembered fondly when Mattie was too embarrassed to have her drop him off the first day at Tree Hill Middle School. Instead, she parked across the street and watched him waltz right in, unbeknownst to him. Matthew reached across the counter for an apple and bit right into it. "Just, these last days before school's over are kinda pointless."

"You sound just like me," Nathan boomed, walking into the kitchen. Being a retired NBA superstar, Nathan Scott remained in the best shape of his life. He carried his youngest, four year-old Olivia Quinn, in his right arm. She looked just like Haley.

"Awesome," Matthew said, a grin on his face.

"Not awesome. I needed a tutor, Matthew." He ruffled his son's hair, now long and floppy, before kissing the top of his head.

Matthew made a funny face in Olivia's direction before saying, "Yeah, but that's how you met Mom." he raised his brows as if to say, challenge that one.

Haley laughed, and reached for her cell phone as it started ringing. "It's Karen," she told the room. "Hi, Karen…."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Machines were buzzing in Peyton's ear as she desperately watched her father breathe in and out.

"Honey," came Lucas' soothing voice. He was standing in the doorway. "Derek and Lisa are here."

At the mention of her brother, Peyton teared up immediately. She walked out into the hallway, rubbing her arms up and down because it was so cold. She saw her brother standing there, someone Larry looked at as another son, and began to cry, hard.

Derek opened his arms so Peyton could walk into them. "We came here for you," he said. He was returning her hug with just as much force. "We came here for you!"

Lisa moved to go on the other side of the hug, holding Peyton upright.

-x-x-x-EGS-x-x-x-

Adrian pulled up to THHS and cut the ignition. I'm not just saying this: my boyfriend's a great driver. He took to it naturally. He turned to me from behind the wheel in his silver Subaru Forrester. "Ella. You know I'm here for you if you need anything, right?"

"I know, Lion," I said, brushing my hand across his cheek. He had a bit of stubble now; I liked it.

"You sure you're gonna be OK in school today?"

"I have no alternative," I said, staring at all the happy high school kids who had no idea about the drama going on in my family.

"We could play hooky," he suggested. "Spend the day at the beach or boardwalk or something."

I leaned in to kiss him and inhale his cologne. "Would you hate me if I just stayed a goodie two shoes?"

"I could never hate you," he said, kissing my forehead. "C'mon."

x-x-x-x-x-EGS-x-x-x-x-x-

That night, I was laying in bed trying to read my book when my parents walked in, nearing 1am. "Mom," I said, sitting up. "How's Grandpa?"

"Not much change," Mom said, holding onto Dad's hand. "But he's hanging on."

I nodded, watched as my parents sat on my bed. "Ella, we want to talk to you."

"OK," I said. "What's up?"

Dad cleared his throat. "We both know you wanted to have your surgery this summer, and how important it is to you. It's important to us, too. But with everything that's happened...I'm sorry, sweetie, but we rescheduled it."

"Oh," I said, swallowing. "You already called Dr. Farrell's office?"

"This morning," Dad replied.

"OK...rescheduled for when?" I looked to Mom, who stared back at me with tears in her eyes.

"We're not sure," Dad answered. "It all depends on Grandpa Larry."

I nodded, swallowed the lump in my throat. "OK. I understand."

-x-x-x-EGS-x-x-x-

Tuesday, July 31st, 2029: About two months later

The end of July meant several things. Lily had passed her NCLEX and was now a registered nurse in the state of New York. I had celebrated my 17th birthday on the 17th of his month. Grandpa got one year older in the rehab center. Jamie and Lily had celebrated their 22nd birthdays on the 15th of June. Dad celebrated his 41st birthday on June 6th. Really, we were all getting older. However, most importantly, July 31st was the last full day my grandfather would be in rehab. He was coming home.

I followed my parents through the front doors of the rehabilitation center. Today, we were visiting Grandpa Larry. He'd been in the stroke unit of the hospital for five weeks, and the remainder of the time he'd spent in the rehabilitation center, relearning how to eat, swallow, and walk. See, my grandfather was already beating the odds, because the doctors told my parents that Grandpa Larry would never walk again, that he'd spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.

He proved them wrong.

When we walked into Grandpa Larry's room, he was wearing a hospital gown, and was being moved out of his bed by a Hoyer Lift. A Hoyer Lift is essentially a patient lift used to transport patients from their bed to a chair or the reversal using hydraulics. The doctors also told us that it was likely Grandpa would have major cognitive deficits. When I mentioned that to Mom, as gently as I could, all she said was this:

You have no idea how strong my father is.

I watched as Grandpa settled into his chair, subdued and morose. "You look good, Dad!" Mom said. Bless her optimism.

Grandpa Larry stared right at her, and then gave her the middle finger.

We all laughed. "Looks like you're feeling better, Grandpa," I said, walking over and patting his shoulder. "You're getting scruffy," I noted, poking his beard hairs.

"He wouldn't let me shave him," the CPA, Suzanne, said.

"Why?" My mom asked Grandpa, putting her hands on her hips.

-x-

"Ok, Ella," Mom said, her face sullen. I took a deep breath and followed my mother into the hospital room, to see my grandfather for the first time since he'd had his stroke. He was laying in the hospital bed, hooked up to all sorts of machines. His face was pale, his hair longer than I remembered. "You can't cry," Mom said, holding my hand. I knew it was more for her sake than my own.

I sat in the chair by the bed and took my grandfather's hand, still warm to the touch. "Hi Grandpa," I said. I squeezed his hand, and he opened his eyes. He was looking at me. He couldn't talk, but he was looking at me. I exhaled, all teary-eyed. "Hi." I reached into the pocket of my leather jacket and pulled out my I-Phone, and opened Spotify. "I want to play you a song." I scrolled through the playlist and hit play on the one song I hoped my grandfather would remember. Frankie Ruiz's smash salsa hit "Tu Con El" or "You with Him," sounded off in the quiet space. I was sure to keep the volume really low so as not to cause a ruckus. "Remember this song, Grandpa?" I asked, my tears threatening to fall. "You and I listened to it when I was learning Spanish, and you would dance along to it in the kitchen, even though you had no idea what the words meant." I wiped my face with my free hand and began to sing along in Spanish.

Tu con el

No me sorprende sospechaba terminar así

Yo solamente fui la excusa para serle ver

Que tu podías si querías vivir sin su amor

Perdóname no me di cuenta de ese juego

Y me enamore después fue tarde

No podía ya volver atrás

Y te quería cada día mas y mas

To my surprise, my grandfather began to move his shoulders back and forth. He was dancing to the music. I laughed, laughed and cried at the same time, and Mom did the same. Dad came into the room, and Mom told Grandpa to go ahead and dance again.

"Aw," Dad said, smiling. "There you go."

-x-

"Don't you want to look nice and shaved, Dad?" Mom asked, snapping me back to the present. "You're getting discharged tomorrow!"

"I don't need a fucking shave," Grandpa barked, his throat still scratchy from the healing tracheotomy. "Let's go."

All of us did research about ischemic stroke after this happened, and we found out that Grandpa's emotional affect had completely changed. In other words, he didn't react to things the same way. His filter was gone, and he spoke his mind. He was a totally different person. To many, he seemed harsh and cold, and he was...but he was also my grandpa, and I was just happy to still have him here with us.

"Tomorrow, Grandpa. You're going home tomorrow."

-x-

Another night getting home past midnight, was the thought going through Peyton's head. She'd been to the hospital every day this week, and she went home when they kicked her out. She had left plenty of bottles for Miles, but she still felt so guilty that she was spending this much time away from her babies, from Ella, from Lucas.

"Hey," he said, standing in the doorway of their bedroom. "How is he?"

"About the same," Peyton replied. "I'm so tired, babe."

"Come here," he said, motioning for her to come into the bedroom. He shut the door behind them, watched as Peyton began undressing. "Need help?"

Peyton turned to him and let him unbutton her blouse. "When my father gets out," she said, her voice completely serious, "I don't care what we have to do to make room; he's living with us."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Peyt. The guest room can be his room, and it's on the first floor, so he won't have to worry about the stairs."

-x-

That night, I overheard my parents talking in the master bedroom. Miles' bassinet was beside their bed. "He's probably going to hate living here," Mom said, cradling two-month-old Miles in her arms. He looked up at his mama and smiled.

"Peyton...you don't know that," Lucas said, rubbing her back. He made a funny face in Miles' direction, and the baby cooed in response, sticking his hand in his mouth.

Peyton leaned down and kissed Miles' forehead. "Yes I do, Lucas. He was so independent. He cherished his own space. And you've seen him. He's a different person. He's…. unkind. He's lost all of his inhibitions. Remember when Brooke and Julian visited him last?"

-x-

"Larry," Brooke said, with all her cheeriness. Her sexy heels echoed off the tile floor. "Standing up and looking good!"

Larry said nothing, not really acknowledging that Brooke and Julian were there, to be fair, but untied his robe to reveal nothing underneath–something he would've never done before the stroke.

Brooke and Julian turned around, and they both tried not to laugh from the shock and all the nakedness. "OK, Larry!" Julian said, and Brooke covered her face with her hand.

"What happened?" Peyton asked, standing in the doorway. Of course now Larry was wearing his blue hospital garb, looking perfectly innocent.

"Oh, nothing," Brooke said, waving off Peyton's concern with her hand. "Your dad just flashed us, that's all."

"What?!" Peyton cried, and she started laughing. "I'm so sorry. Dad! You need to cover up and put it away!"

-x-

"You have to admit, the way Julian told that story was pretty funny," Lucas said. "Babe, don't worry. Everything's going to be fine. You know how crazy your dad is about his grandchildren. I think he'll like living here."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-EGS-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Wednesday, August 1st, 2029

Today is the day my grandfather comes home to us. Dad went to go pick him up, while me, Mom, Grandma Karen and Lily helped prepare the house. We were only having them and Adrian over for dinner. Mom wanted something quiet so Grandpa didn't get overwhelmed.

By the time Dad pulled into the driveway, the house was near spotless. "Here we go," Mom said, though I could tell she was nervous. Dad opened the front door, and me and Mom stood in the foyer, each of us holding a baby monitor. Riley was going to wake up from his nap any minute now. Grandpa Larry walked with a cane inside the house. "Why are you both standing there?" he barked at us.

"We're welcoming you home, Grandpa," I said.

"You look like idiots."

-x-

I walked into my room to find Mom wiping off my dresser. She turned to me when she saw me in the doorway, looking forlorn and exhausted. She'd been going to the hospital to see Grandpa Larry every night this week, getting home at 12:30am on the early days, only to get up early from Miles' crying. She spent part of the day taking care of the boys, before Grandma Karen relieved her, and she headed back to the hospital.

"You OK, Mom?"

She looked at me and said, "He's never gonna be the same."

-x-

"Thanks?" I said, laughing. "Welcome home, Grandpa." I opened my arms and moved to hug him, and he was stiff against me.

"Let go," he ordered. "Off!"

I let go, and for a moment ignored the pain in my heart.

"Dad, want to go see your room?" Mom asked.

"I'm hungry."

"I'll give you something after you see your room first, alright? It's right over here." Mom took Grandpa's arm and together they walked to what was now Grandpa's room.

"Dad," I said, and my father turned to me. "How has Grandpa seemed to you?"

Dad sighed. "Well. He's seemed a little...slower," he said, and I knew he didn't necessarily mean slower physically, though that was true as well. "What do you think?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When Adrian arrived, dinner was being served. "Hi Mr. Sawyer," he said in Grandpa's direction, who sat across from him eagerly awaiting the food. "How are you feeling?"

"Not good," Grandpa answered. "I'm not the same Larry I used to be."

A profound silence washed across the table. I didn't dare meet Mom's gaze. "Well, it takes time, huh?" Dad encouraged, his words gentle. "It takes time."

Grandpa's nod was stiff. He reached for the serving platter of pasta, and that was our sign that dinner had officially commenced.

-x-x-x-EGS-x-x-x-

I had passed my parents' bedroom after brushing my teeth and washing up for bed (even though I wasn't really going to go to bed yet).

"Ella," came Dad's voice.

I stopped. "Yeah?" I opened the door only to find Mom breastfeeding Miles, sitting up in bed with Dad beside her, holding Miles up so Mom could get some rest. "Oh...sorry!"

"It's OK, honey," Mom said, and she looked calm. "Get in here."

I made my crooked walk to the bed, watching my baby brother eat his dinner.

"Your mom and I have something we want to tell you."

I watched my parents warily. "...What?"

"We rescheduled the surgery. It's on August 24th. We already talked to Aunt Brooke about it, and she offered to have us stay at her apartment near Central Park."

"What about Brooklyn?"

"That house is only available for rent during the summer," Mom chipped in. "The owners of the house will already be back from Vermont by then. The apartment will be easier for your grandfather because it has less stairs, anyway."

"...We're taking Grandpa with us?" I asked, without thinking.

"Ella," Mom admonished. "Of course we are; what else are we going to do with him?"

"Right. Sorry." I took a deep breath. "August 24th. That's soon."

"The sooner the better, and the less school you'll miss," Dad said. "We talked to Emilie in Dr. Farrell's office, and she said to anticipate being out of school for at least a month."

"OK," I said. "Will I be getting home instruction?"

"Do you want home instruction?" Dad asked.

"...Not really," I answered, and my parents laughed. "I'll have someone bring me the homework and just learn on my own. I'm going to be doped up on pain meds anyway, why would I want someone from the Board of Ed all up in my space?"

"Fair enough," Dad said. "Does the rest of it sound like a good plan to you?"

"Don't have much choice, do I?" My parents looked somber. "...That was a joke."

-x-x-x-EGS-x-x-x-

Later, I was twisting and turning in bed. It was just one of those nights where I couldn't get to sleep, no matter how hard I tried. For the near three years that Adrian and I had been a couple, I got used to spending the occasional night beside him, and even that made sleeping alone so much worse–waking up alone, too. I couldn't help but think that in a few weeks, Adrian was going off to college in Philadelphia… and that was the end of our constant hanging out, our beloved nights together.

I overheard my mother and my grandfather talking, and curiosity drove me out of bed. I opened the door to see quite a sight: my grandfather was kneeling by the toilet, Mom standing beside him. Urine had trickled across the floor. Mom was trying to get Grandpa to stand up, but he was too weak.

"Dad, push up on your left leg," Mom tried, her voice above a whisper. Grandpa was doing the opposite of what Mom was telling him to do. "No, the other leg….I don't understand." Mom turned to me when she realized I was watching. "Ella, go get your father…please."

I nodded and walked into the master bedroom, where Dad lay sleeping. Since rehab, Grandpa had grown overly attached to Dad, practically worshiped the ground he walked on. "Dad..." I tried, shaking him awake. "Dad!"

Dad's eyes opened and he shot up to sit. "What's wrong!"

"Mom needs your help. Grandpa Larry is on his knees in the bathroom...and he had an accident."

"OK," Dad said, getting up right away. He followed me out into the hallway. I could do nothing but watch as my father tried to help my grandfather off the floor, with the patience of a saint. I couldn't help but wonder if there was hope for us yet.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-