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bit.”
    With a curious smile, she says, “Good idea, dear. Mind if I tag along?”              
    Um, well I guess not. “Not at all.”
    She gets up. Standing beside me, she grabs my hand to lead me down the hall. Within seconds, I spot our destination about twenty yards ahead. Just as we pass the nurses’ station, I notice one of Pap’s doctors talking to someone with a familiar face: that hot guy from the airport.
    No way!
    The second I spot him across the room, I gawk like a rubber-necker at a freeway accident. I’ve seen cute guys before, but this is ridiculous. My face heats up as I turn back to my family sitting in the waiting room. I seriously hope no one saw my deer-in-headlights look.
    “Let me go check my lipstick, dear. Wait for me?” Gram asks, a questioning look on her face as she notices me staring at a stranger.
    I stop. “Yeah. Sure.”
    Countless times, I’ve heard people mention the affect a stranger had on them at first sight. I never quite understood what they meant. But given my youthful cynicism, it’s likely I just didn’t believe them. Has the time come for me to be proven wrong?
    I stand outside the restroom waiting for Gram, but I can’t help looking his way again. The longer I stare, the more I want to hear his voice.
    Busted! Now he’s caught me staring at him , but it’s only fair, right?
    He winks before turning his attention back to the doctor.
    “I think he likes you, dear,” Gram whispers, awakening the rest of my senses as I jump. She squeezes my hand and giggles. “Are you okay?”              
    “Of course,” I reply in a snippy tone. “That guy with Dr. Gaslightwala looks familiar. I just can’t figure out where I’ve seen him.”
    “Oh yes, that must be it.” Gram and I turn towards each other, a smirk lighting up her face. “Well, you be sure to fill me in once you figure it out, dear.” 
    Unable to ignore her sarcasm, I look the other way as we start back down the hall.              
    Inside the empty chapel, we sit in the front row where Gram begins the ritual so many before us have completed. Although, I can’t help but wonder how successful they’d been.
    Regardless of one’s religious affiliation, praying for a sick loved one seems to be a universal response. Even for those who don’t pray at all. Like me. But I often wonder, if praying isn’t part of one’s normal routine, why would God answer a request in a moment of need? Isn’t it hypocritical to pray only when God’s help is needed?
    Shame for my lack of faith creeps through my body, sending uneasiness through my limbs. I’ve always been a spiritual person. But after my parent’s death, I shied away from anything related to religion. Especially Wicca.
    As I rationalize my hypocrisy, my thoughts drift back to the familiar face I’d seen only moments ago. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a better looking guy in my life, which is why I know I could never forget his face. So where have I seen him? This is gonna drive me nuts!              
    Okay, focus. Your pap needs you now, so who cares about some cute guy.
    I force my brain back on track.
    It’s been so many years since I’ve done any religious studying, I can’t remember which God I should be praying to for protection and healing. A truth I would never admit to Gram. Not unless I have a death wish.
    I lean down, covering my face with my hands. I know it’s been a while, but please God, any God who can hear me…please protect my grandfather. Please make him come out of this surgery okay. I don’t know if my gram could survive losing him. I’ll do anything. Just please let him be okay. We need him. It’s not his time.             
    The second I finish, I raise my head, opening my eyes to Gram staring ahead with a peaceful smile on her face. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she doesn’t look worried at all. It doesn’t make much sense, but I guess everyone