Visiting hours will be over in fifteen minutes,” a busy nurse behind a desk told us when we finally arrived at Grammy’s floor. I wiped my eyes and tried to comb my hair with my fingers. I didn’t want Grammy to think I’d been crying.
Daddy was walking ahead of the rest of us. I could tell he was very worried about Grammy. After what happened with Diana’s phone, I was surprised that Lynn put her arm around Diana’s shoulders as we headed down the long hall. I was even more surprised that Diana didn’t shrug it off. I guess being in the hospital was scary enough that Lynn wanted to comfort Diana.
The halls were shiny green-and-white linoleum. Attendants in colorful patterned scrubs walked by on quiet shoes, carrying clipboards or pushing carts loaded with equipment. In the rooms, lights were low and tiny TVs hung from the ceiling. People in thin gowns with IVs lay in the beds. Trays with leftovers from dinner rested on rolling carts beside the beds, and the smell of the hospital food still hung in the air. I didn’t like that smell.
In one room we passed, a group of people talked loudly and laughed, but the rest were quiet, with just the buzz of the television or the murmured conversations of one or two people.
This was the second time in two days that I had been in a hospital. It was so strange that Matt and Grammy were both in hospitals at the same time. Since Matt hadn’t regained consciousness before I left, I hadn’t been to his room to see him. I had only been in the waiting room. I was glad. I didn’t know how he would look all bandaged up. Had he woken up yet?
“This is Grammy’s room,” Daddy said quietly, stopping beside an open door.
My mouth went dry. What would she look like?
Nobody talked. I peeked in.
Grammy lay in the bed, looking small and pale. I almost didn’t recognize her. Her mouth, usually smiling and laughing, was a thin line without her usual lipstick. Her closed eyes looked large and sunken. An IV went into the crook of her arm, and she was hooked up to a monitor that beeped softly and continuously. She wore a faded hospital gown and was covered with a thin, stiff, white blanket.
Everything went blurry as tears stung my eyes. My breathing felt shaky. I blinked hard, because it would be terrible if she saw me crying. To make myself stop, I gritted my teeth.
I tried to keep from thinking it but couldn’t help it. Was Grammy going to die?
Hesitantly, Daddy stepped inside the room. The rest of us stayed out in the hall. Lynn swiped a tear from her cheek with a crumbly tissue and cleared her throat. Diana, with a stony look on her face, stared at the floor.
Daddy stood next to Grammy’s bed and started to put his hand over hers but then let his hand drop. Looking at Daddy, just standing there with his arms hanging uselessly by his sides, made my throat ache.
Suddenly Grammy’s eyes fluttered open.
“Hi, Mom,” Daddy said softly. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
He took her hand, something I couldn’t ever remember him doing.
“You’re here,” Grammy said. “Oh, Norm, I was so sick.” She shook her head, remembering.
“You’re going to be okay now, Mom. I know it,” Daddy said.
I could feel a sob building up inside my throat.
“Grammy!” I ran across the room and leaned in to hug her.
“Stephanie, watch it! Don’t get tangled in the IV!” Daddy said.
“Hi, sweetie,” came Grammy’s voice, weak and thready. “Sorry to say it, but I’m not doing so well.”
I stood beside Grammy’s bed, holding her hand, which felt cold and limp and bony. Lynn and Diana came in and stood at the foot of the bed.
Grammy licked her dry lips slowly and carefully. “I guess they have to wait for the inflammation around my pancreas to go down, and they’re giving me antibiotics to help. And some anti-nausea medication. I was so sick. I’ve never felt so sick.”
“Oh, Angela, we’re so sorry,” Lynn said. “I know you’ll be better soon.”
Grammy closed her eyes again. Daddy patted her hand. “Listen, we don’t want to tire you out. We can’t stay too long anyway because visiting hours are going to be over soon. We’ll come back tomorrow, and maybe you’ll be feeling better. We’ll just head over to your place.”
“Oh yes. And Jelly,” she said. “I’m so worried about him! My neighbor has him. You need to take good care of Jelly and tell him I’m going to be back in just a few days, okay?” Grammy lifted her arm and waved vaguely at Diana. “Diana, are you going to take care of Jelly for me?”
I felt my heart speed up, and my cheeks grew warm. Why wasn’t Grammy asking me to take care of Jelly? Why was she asking Diana to do it? Diana had never even met Jelly. I was her real granddaughter!
I stared at Diana. She had made such a big deal about not coming and seeing Grammy, even though it was obvious that Grammy really cared about her. She was staring at the floor, but now she nodded. “Okay.”
At that moment, an energetic dark-skinned woman in scrubs with short hair and glasses came in, pushing a cart that held a thermometer and other equipment. “Hi, I’m Candace. I’ve been taking care of Mrs. Verra.”
“Hi, Candace,” said Daddy, stepping away so Candace could stand next to Grammy’s bed. She looked at Grammy’s monitor and wrote down some numbers. Then she used an electronic thermometer to take Grammy’s temperature.
With the thermometer in her mouth, Grammy closed her eyes for a second and squeezed my hand. I put my other hand on top of hers and leaned against the bed.
“So how’s my mother doing?” Daddy asked Candace.
“Still a little feverish,” said Candace, making a note. “She came in with a lot of pain. We’re hoping that the pancreatitis will resolve itself quickly, and we can get her feeling better soon.”
“On the phone, the doctor told me she may have to have surgery,” Daddy said.
Candace measured Grammy’s heart rate, holding her fingertips over Grammy’s wrist and looking at her watch. “You can talk to the doctors all about that tomorrow.”
“Mom, we should probably go,” Daddy said.
“You need your rest,” Lynn added.
Daddy patted Grammy’s arm and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “We’ll see you first thing in the morning, Mom.”
I leaned across the bed and laid my head on Grammy’s chest for a few seconds. I could hear her heart beating slowly. I could tell she didn’t like us seeing her weak like this. Grammy was strong.
“See you in the morning.” She squeezed my hand.
“See you tomorrow,” Lynn said.
I waved at her, as she lay there in the bed and we headed out of the room.
We were quiet in the hall and the elevator, each of us thinking our own thoughts. As the elevator moved down, I started feeling afraid that Grammy was going to die. The very thought made me feel panicked and made my heart start to skitter along faster. She was my rock. What would I do without her? Dear God, I thought to myself. Please don’t let Grammy die.
I wanted God to answer me, and in the quiet of the elevator I listened, holding my breath. All I heard was the ding as we arrived at our floor. But why should God answer my prayers, anyway? I only remembered to pray when I wanted something. When things were going well, I forgot all about him. I’m sure he could see right through me. I caught my breath, and tears began running down my cheeks. I was glad it was dark and no one could see.
Once we were back in the car, on our way to Grammy’s apartment, Daddy and Lynn started talking about when Grammy’s surgery might be and how long we may stay here.
“I can’t wait to meet Jelly,” Diana said.
I stared out the window on my side of the car and didn’t answer. As the darkness passed by outside, I could feel myself getting mad at Diana. All she could think about was the dog. She didn’t act worried about Grammy at all. Plus, how could she have called her dad about going for a visit while our whole family was so upset about Grammy? Why did Diana always make everything about herself? Why did she always make such a scene? I was so tired of it.
Diana and I rode in silence the whole way, until Daddy pulled into Grammy’s driveway beside her golf cart.
“Grammy has a golf cart?” Diana suddenly said, looking over at it.
“Yeah, most people in the development have one for driving around the neighborhood and going down to the beach,” Daddy said.
“That’s cool!” Diana said. I could tell the visit to Grammy’s had just become more interesting to her. She was supposed to take driver’s training next semester, and she couldn’t wait. She wanted to be able to drive herself to the barn.
Grammy’s front porch light was on, illuminating a bush with dark shiny leaves and round pink flowers by her front door. Daddy let us in, and we set our bags on the floor in Grammy’s small kitchen. A sunflower dish towel was folded neatly over the stove handle. Grammy had a sunflower theme in her kitchen. She also collected Chihuahua figurines and pictures. The walls of her apartment were a cheerful yellow. On her screened back porch, she kept a shell collection. When I visited, we went shell-hunting almost every day. I loved looking through and running my fingers over the conch shells, sand dollars, Scotch bonnets, and skate egg cases, and listening to the musical clinking noise they made when I sifted them together. I’d brought a sketch pad on my last visit and had tried drawing them. While drawing shells, it was easy to see the amazing patterns of nature. Maybe there would be a chance for a walk on the beach tomorrow, so I could find a shell to bring Grammy. That might cheer her up.
Jelly’s empty dog bed was nestled in the corner of the kitchen beside the light oak table. Grammy kept a basket of toys beside the bed. A yellow, stuffed puppy with a chewed nose lay on top.
“Look,” I said. “Jelly loves to chew noses.”
“I’ll go next door and get him,” Daddy said. “Get ready!” He went out the front door.
Lynn headed to Grammy’s bedroom, and I rolled my suitcase back to the spare bedroom where Diana and I would be sleeping. In here were two twin beds with green, white, and yellow flowered bedspreads and a bookcase where Grammy kept games for her grandchildren. She had Chinese checkers, regular checkers, Connect Four, and Jenga. She’d gotten them all used at flea markets. Her Chinese checkers board had a drawing of a Chinese dragon on it that I had always loved to look at. Once I’d tried to paint a picture of it.
Diana stood in the doorway. I didn’t ask her which bed she wanted. I just put my suitcase on the one closest to the door, the one I always slept in. I didn’t feel like talking to her at all. I still couldn’t figure out why Grammy had asked Diana to look after Jelly rather than me.