A Most Graceful Life

"Can you tell me how he is? Will he be alright?"

Stephen was driving a bit too quickly down the road, with Grace in the passenger seat. Shortly after receiving his mother's call, they fully dressed and were out the door, making the short trip out to the hospital.

"He's.. in a lot of pain," said Grace, slowly, with a fearful expression on her face.

"Is he going to be okay??" Stephen's eyes met hers, breaking from the road.

"I.. I don't know. I can't see that," she replied, shaking her head.

Stephen pressed the pedal down further.

They arrived at the hospital a short time later, only to be greeted by his mother and grandmother outside the surgery waiting room. They had ridden together, while Grandpa had been carried away in the ambulance. From the pieces that he had been able to dig out of the two of them, he had been trying to replace a burned out light bulb and, having stepped on a small stool, had lost his balance and fell hard on his right side.

"It's my fault," sobbed Grandma, while being held by his mother. "I should have been keeping an eye on him. He never would have went near that damned stool if I had been watching him!"

"Now, now, Mom, it's not your fault," consoled Theresa.

All the family could do was wait for the surgery to be over. It wasn't much more than an hour later that Aunt Linda showed up as well, and together the five of them waited for any piece of news. Stephen sat still on the couch in the family room, his mind saying silent prayers for his grandfather, while Grace clung to him as well, pressed solidly into his side.

Finally, a few hours later, the doctor came around after the completion of surgery.

"Well, he's stable now," he started, addressing the entire family. The doctor went through the entire operation, telling how he fixed the socket with pins and screws. Yet, a complete replacement was out of the picture, due to him not being a particularly active individual, and his advanced age.

Thankfully, Grandma was able to visit with him, while the anesthesia wore off. The bad part about that was that the hospital staff restricted visitors to just her, because of the nature of the traumatic experience. Which meant that after hours spent at the hospital, most of the family ended up going home at the end of the day without seeing Grandpa.

Yet, a good end of the day progress report from Grandma, as well as a thumb's up from a still loopy Grandpa was enough to put most of their minds at ease, and let them go home for the evening.

The next day, Stephen and Grace were able to go to see him around midday, and have their first real alone time with him since his fall. A subtle knock on his door, and the young couple whisked their way into his hospital suite.

"Stephen? Is that you?" A hoarse voice asked from a high rise hospital bed.

"Hey Grandpa, it's me. And Grace," said Stephen, wearing a brave smile.

"Hey supermodel. How are you?" Grandpa asked, jokingly, while looking at Grace.

Grace couldn't help but giggle, "I'm good, but how are you more importantly?"

"I'm afraid I've really done it this time," he replied, bobbing his head. "I feel like I've been hit by a Greyhound bus going full speed."

"How's your pain, Grandpa?" Stephen asked.

Grandpa shrugged his shoulders. "It comes and goes. I guess that's why they set me up with my little happy button here." He gestured to the pain relief button, which, when pressed sent in a surge of pain reliever.

"Better than yesterday at least?"

"A whole lot better than yesterday," he replied, his eyes glazing over at the memory. "In hindsight, I should have asked for help with that damned light bulb. But here's the kicker: your grandmother isn't tall enough to reach that one." He gave a weak smile at his joke.

"That's why you two have to call me, to help with those out of reach light bulbs," chuckled Stephen.

"Oh, I know, I know," muttered Grandpa. "I just hate feeling useless. And feeling like an old man. Thought it was something I could do quickly and be done with it. Guess I learned my lesson. But I've always been stubborn," he ended, elbowing Grace in the side, and earning a smile from her.

"I think I see where Stephen gets it from now," teased Grace.

"Well, my wife is stuck with me. Still time for you to ditch him, supermodel," joked Grandpa.

"Hey! I'm right here, you two," grimaced Stephen, looking back at the two guilty co-conspirators.

"You know I wouldn't dream of leaving, love," replied back Grace, innocently fluttering her eyelashes.

"Yeah, yeah," mocked Stephen, before looking back at Grandpa. "So how long do they have to keep you here? Can you come home soon?"

Grandpa shrugged his shoulders again. "Who knows? They keep telling me that I'm in a 'delicate state' right now, whatever that means. Most annoyingly, they bring that up every time we mention possibly going home, which makes me think I might be here a while. But if there's any place I could really recuperate the best, it would be back at home. I don't know. I may just be stuck between a rock and a hard place, I suppose."

"That's gotta be frustrating," agreed Stephen.

"You know it, kiddo," he replied, before grabbing at his side table, where a half carton of milk was still waiting.

"How's the food here, Grandpa?" Grace asked, watching his movement.

"Now that, I don't have any complaints actually," he replied, taking a long sip of his milk. "The food here isn't bad at all. Actually, it's pretty good, and they give me a lot to eat, so I'm usually full."

"Well, that's a first," laughed Stephen. "I think you're the only person in the world who likes hospital food."

Grandpa looked at him seriously, "Well, if you had spent sixty plus years eating your grandmother's cooking, you wouldn't blame me! And please, not a word to her that I just said that, okay? She handles all of my medications, and I'd hate to spend a painful afternoon just because she found out about my little comment, okay?"

Both Grace and Stephen chuckled at his joke, while he wore a cockeyed grin. "Your secret is safe with us, I promise you, Grandpa."

"I knew you were my favorite grandson for a reason," he twinkled. "Same thing, don't tell the twins!"

He was laughing along with them, until he readily clutched his side, his face changing from lines of laughter to a deep permeation of pain.

"Are you okay?" Stephen asked, worriedly, eyes gazing back and forth between his face and the spot where his hands were clutching.

"It just.. hits me. When I move... too much," he managed, his labored breath coming out in ragged pauses.

"Is there anything we can do?" Grace asked.

"Yes dear, just have them lop the whole leg off," he smiled under duress, while making a gentle sawing motion with his hand. "Less use to me than ever right now."

Grace and Stephen just looked at each other, not knowing the right words to say to someone in so much pain. It was obvious that the ordeal was taking a lot out of him. Even his few jovial moments couldn't hide the tremendous amount of pain he was in. It was a truly depressive thing to watch and feel utterly helpless as a result.

Shortly after he managed some form of recovery, Grandma came into the room, holding two cups of hospital cafeteria coffee. She saw the looks of indecision on the young couple's face, and the recovering face of her husband, letting her know something was up.

"Everything okay?" She eyed the trio, while setting down the coffees.

"Fine dear," managed Grandpa, putting on a brave face. "Just trying to convince these two to get me a bone saw to take off this damned leg." He did the hacksaw motion again, earning a giggle from Grace.

"You'll never change," replied Grandma, rolling her eyes with a knowing smile.

"At least, that's what you hope," he wised back. "Is that my coffee?"

She looked down at the pair of cups on his tray table. "Of course, but we may want to hide that from your nurse. Not sure if you should be drinking coffee so soon after your surgery."

"Bah," he scoffed, while reaching for the cup. "I need my cup of java to help me recover!"

Grandma handed him the cup, before walking over to hug her grandson. "How are you, dear? Thank you so much for coming today."

Stephen hugged back, clinging tightly to her, "I'm not too bad, Grandma. Just hoping that we can get him home soon."

"You and me both," she smiled, before turning to Grace. "It's so nice to see you again, too, dear!"

"Wouldn't want to be anywhere else than right here beside Grandpa," smiled Grace, reaching out to gently caress his hand. Grandpa beamed with a smile.

"I might just trade you in, lady," he said to grandma, before shaking his head in Grace's direction. "The supermodel likes me!"

"You may have to talk that one over with Stephen first," replied Grandma curtly.

"Sorry, Grandpa," interjected Grace. "I'm with that one," she said, pointing to Stephen.

"Darn it. Is it serious?" He asked, in a mockingly hurt voice.

"Afraid so," she managed, trying to hold back a smile.

He turned his head to look at Grandma, "Guess you're stuck with me."

"Lucky me," she sassed, earning a laugh from all of them. Unfortunately, the laughter provoked another unexpected response from Grandpa, who was soon clutching at his hip again in pain.

"Can't I get a little more pain meds?" His eyes pleaded, looking frantically at the small button in his hand, which had been thoroughly depressed several times since Stephen and Grace had been there.

"Not helping at all?" Grandma asked.

He shook his head, grimacing in the level of pain that was passing through him.

"Let me talk with the nurse," she replied, before scurrying out of the room to the nearest nursing station. It wasn't much more than a minute later, while Grandpa fought off the pain, that Grandma reappeared, with a nurse trailing behind her.

"What seems to be the problem, dear?" The nurse asked, addressing Grandpa, and taking the spot that Stephen had been occupying beside the bed.

"Pain. It's really bad. Right now," he labored out, breathing in ragged paces.

Stephen melted back away from the bed, letting the nurse and Grandma hover over him. He felt Grace's presence against him shortly, and together they stood, and waited, as a new medication was approved and finally sent up from the hospital pharmacy.

"We're going to try this new medication now," said the nurse after she returned. "It may make you pretty loopy, or even just send you straight to sleep, but it should help with the pain regardless."

"Okay," he managed, as any more talking was just about impossible in his current state. Grandma held his hand on his undamaged side, as all attention focused on the young nurse readying the new medication for use.

"I feel like we should give them some space right now."

Stephen felt the weight of Grace's mind on his, her telepathic words imprinting on his brain.

Stephen nodded, the same thoughts running through his mind as well. He hated seeing his grandfather in pain, and feeling truly helpless to do anything about it. The last thing he wanted was to be in the way, in the cramped hospital room, and add any delay into Grandpa receiving the medication he needed.

He pulled Grandma aside, and said lightly to her, "Grace and I are going to wait out in the hall until this is over. Let us know when the nurse is done?"

"Of course, dear," she said, sympathetically, touching his shoulder lightly. She embraced the both of them in turn, and then turned back to grasp Grandpa's hand tenderly. It was enough to make Stephen smile briefly, despite the circumstances, before he grabbed Grace's hand and led them outside the room and back out into the hall.

Just about as soon as they were clear of the room, Stephen stopped, falling back against the wall with a look of deep pain in his eyes. They searched out Grace's own, the question forming in his mind before they could even pass his lips.

"Grace," he asked, hoarsely, with a level yet frenzied look written into the contours of his face. "Can't you do anything about this?"

Her eyes closed for a moment, before a single solitary tear formed and began a lonely trail down her pale cheek. She shook her head, "I'm so sorry, Stephen."

"There's nothing?" He groaned. "Can't I wish for his pain to lessen, or anything like that?"

"I'm afraid not," she replied, her eyes drifting down towards the floor.

"But that is love, though, Grace. I love them. You told me before my wishes had to be grounded in love for them to work. Well, I love my grandparents and I wish for his pain to lesson." His eyes flashed, a moment of steel and fire, as if his will alone would make the task complete.

Grace assumed a generally fearful look, as if she was petrified of the words she was about to speak. "Yes, Master. I did say that, but it needs to be romantic love. Not familiar love, that won't work. That falls outside the limits of rule 2," she spoke, softly.

Stephen's brow furrowed, his eyebrows descending as he felt anger, the first strips of powerless being felt, "That doesn't help us, Grace! That doesn't help them! There has to be something you can do! Anything!"

Another tear fell from the other eye, making its own trail down her cheek. Her hand shot up, wiping it away quickly, before she spoke softly, "I care about him just as much as you do, Stephen. He's part of you, I understand that, truly. If there was anything I could do to help, I would. I just don't have the powers to make it so."

Stephen's eyes closed, as if assuming some of his grandfather's pain himself. There was nothing he could do then. He felt so... helpless. Powerless, despite this magical creature beside him, to lesson the pain of his loved ones. He had finally found a fault line in Grace's powers, and the moment was humbling beyond doubt.

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Master," Grace practically squeaked, her head hung low. "I have disappointed you. I will leave you alone for a while, if that is your wish?"

Stephen's eyes popped open, searching the bright blue, yet incredibly sad eyes in front of him. Those perfect, endless pools that had so captured his heart from the first moment she entered his life. Yet here she was, in the same amount of pain he was in, and probably feeling just as helpless to do her master's bidding. His heart softened. He had pressed her too hard, past the limits of her powers. And he felt worse about that.

"No, Grace," he said firmly, reaching out to entwine her fingers with his own. "Let's just go to the family lounge. We can wait there together."

She said nothing, but gave a simple nod to acknowledge his words, and let him lead the way to the deserted family lounge. On an empty couch, they sat together, with Grace's body heavily pressed into Stephen's side, and thought about the state of events from the last twenty four hours. Her head drifted to his chest, using his body as her personal pillow as they clung to each other as a source of content.

As her hair pressed against his nose, and that faint hint of jasmine once against drifted into his senses, Stephen began to feel ashamed at the way he had just treated her. In the public hospital corridor, he had raised his voice, no practically yelled, at Grace in front of strangers. What's worse is that she just took it, accepted his anger, and when there was nothing left to do, offered to give him some space. Anyone else may have fought back, became angry themselves, or potentially have left and never come back.

Not Grace though. She was tethered to him for life, no matter what. That is, unless he set her free, which no matter how much better he liked the idea of ending her servitude, she seemed to recoil in utter fear at the very thought.

Stephen nuzzled his nose against her, earning the softest of moans that pierced from her lips. "I'm so sorry, Stephen," she said once more, in barely more than a whisper.

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry," he said, his words still muffled by her long strands of hair. "I shouldn't have treated you like that back there. I'm sorry, Grace."

She sat up, turning towards him and gave him the saddest of smiles, "I know why it means so much to you. As it does to me. And it fills me with just the same feeling as you at knowing I can't do anything to help him. Perhaps I should have gone over the rules a little more thoroughly in the beginning. Maybe it would have helped."

Stephen reached out, his fingers drifting under her chin to catch her attention. He shook his head from side to side, "No, you did nothing wrong. It was me. I wasn't listening to you. I guess we've done so much in the last couple weeks that I.. kind of forgot about of the rules. Or forgot there were limits to them. So when I needed something the most, it just kind of.. blew up in my face."

Grace's head tilted to the side, "Love makes us all do crazy things."

He nodded, agreeing fully with her words, but saying nothing. Grace leaned in and gave him the briefest of kisses against his lips before settling back down into her spot, pressed tightly against his own body.

"I really hope he's going to be okay," said Stephen after a few moments of brief silence, interspersed by the sound of the television playing the local news. "I've never seen him like that before."

"He's strong, and he can get through this," said Grace, putting on a brave face for both of their sakes. "Plus, he has Grandma to take care of him. How could he not get better with someone like that?"

"She did kind of take charge in there, didn't she?" said Stephen, chuckling for the first time since they left his room.

"She seems like the type of woman who's used to getting her way," giggled Grace.

"You may not be able to tell it now, but when I was younger, she was the queen bee of the family," noted Stephen, on a lighter note. "Nobody messed with Grandma."

"You wouldn't expect it from her, especially since she's so tiny," remarked Grace.

"Yeah, don't let that fool you," he smiled. "He was always the carrot of the family, and she was the stick. Not so much anymore, since they are both getting up there in age. But I know if anyone can take care of him, it's her. She's been doing it for over sixty years!"

Grace's fingers began to play across his chest, two of them, tracing a trail from his collarbone down his torso, "You ever wonder what it would be like to be with someone for that long?"

Taking a deep breath, he nodded, "All the time. I've thought about it a lot throughout the years. I mean, they've spent over sixty years together. I can't even imagine that! Only being alive for a third of that time, it just boggles my mind, but then again, it's also a source of pride for me. And something to be hopeful for."

"Sixty years is nothing compared to twenty five hundred," muttered Grace in a joking manner. Stephen tickled her, earning a yelp from her.

"I know what you mean," she said, once she settled down from his prying fingers. "It's a long time to spend with just one person." Her fingers resumed their playful teasing against his chest once more.

"I'm looking forward to spending that with you," Stephen said, softly, as another whiff of jasmine hit his senses.

Grace leaned up, turned around, and gave him a steady, sweet smile. "I am, too, baby." She pressed herself back against him, just wanting to be as close to him as possible.

"Do you think they have a secret? You know, the secret to making their love last as long as they did?" Stephen asked, as he began to rub Grace's arm tenderly. "Like equal expectations, respect, love? Or maybe keeping very open communication? Or maybe it's complete and total honesty with each other?"

"It could be very frequent and very hot sex," noted Grace, earning a painful retching sound from Stephen. "What?" She laughed, leaning forward. "That very well could be it!"