I hate it when she talks like this. It makes me feel like she’s just trying to get her last words of wisdom out before she goes.
“And whatever man you end up with, make sure he treats you like a princess. You hear me?”
I laugh, shuffling the deck of cards. “Yes, grandma. I hear you.”
“You are very special, Danika. You are destined for greatness.”
I smile, not knowing what to say.
“Do you want to play another game?” It’s wishful thinking on my part. I can tell she’s getting pretty tired. More and more these days she’s feeling tired. She sleeps through most of the day now.
Grandma yawns. “Not today, sweetheart. I need to get some rest. Why don’t you call your mom to come pick you up?”
“Okay,” I say, trying to keep the sadness from my voice. I don’t want to go home. I hate being at home. It has to be saying something that as a thirteen year old girl, I’d rather be hanging out at a hospital than in my own house.
But besides that, I don’t want to leave my Grandma. I feel like every day I spend with her might be the last.
“I love you, Grandma,” I say as she settles into her pillow.
“I love you, Dani girl,” she says, her eyes closing before I even make it out the door. I know this hospital like the back of my hand at this point and I easily make my way down to the lobby. Pulling out my phone, I call Mom a few times but she doesn’t pick up. I don’t even try to call my dad. Instead, I call the only other parental figure I have, besides my grandma.
“Memaw?”
“What’s up, sugar? You need me?”
“I’m at the hospital visiting Grandma but my mom won’t answer to come pick me up.”
“I’m on my way, sweetie.”
Sometimes I wish Margot’s grandma was my real mom. She treats me like a daughter or granddaughter to her. I would be completely lost without her and Margot.And Arden.
Psh. Arden. He doesn't do anything for me but annoy me.
Within a few minutes, Memaw has picked me up and driven me to her house. The drive from the hospital is about thirty minutes but we live only a few houses away so, after thanking her profusely, I walk home. When I get there, my mom is in tears clutching her phone on the living room couch.
“Where have you been?”
“I was visiting Grandma. What’s wrong?” I rush to her.
“You were at the hospital? Why did you call me?”
“I did call. You didn’t pick up. What’s going on? Why are you crying?”
Mom takes in a deep breath to try and settle her tears but it only barely works. “The hospital just called me. Grandma passed a few minutes ago.”
I fall backward on the floor. How? How! I was just there with her! She was just talking to me. Laughing with me. Being philosophical and wise.
“Mom,” I cry. She’s looking down at her phone, tears streaming down her face.
“I need to call your father,” she says, sniffling. Instead of comforting me, she stands and puts her phone to her ear, walking into the kitchen.
Pulling my legs up to my chin, I collapse into myself.
I am a shell. I am a shell on a beach and I can hear the ocean. No, that’s not the ocean, it’s the sound of my hyperventilations. The water I feel is my tears falling onto my shirt. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t.
I need to get out of here.
Without another thought, I jump from the floor and run out the front door. I think I vaguely hear the sound of my mother calling my name, but honestly, that could be wishful thinking.