“Your grams is awake,” he whispers.
I look over his shoulder to the nurse attending to Grams and then back at Josh, my lips parting, my silent question hanging heavy between us. He shakes his head, his gaze dropping. “I’m sorry. She still…” His voice fades, the truth in his answer left unspoken. She still doesn’t remember me.
“I’m going to hang around here if you need to go home. I won’t leave her side.”
I sit up and reach for the phone in my bag. I’m not going anywhere.
“Okay.”
Did you sleep at all?
He shakes his head again.
Maybe you should go get some rest.
He licks his lips before rubbing his eyes. “Even if I left, I couldn’t sleep. Not until I know what’s wrong with her.”
I’ll go find us some coffee, I type, offering a supportive smile.
He shoves his hand in his pocket and pulls out some cash just as the nurse says, “She’s fallen asleep again. I have to monitor her for a while so why don’t you both go? Get something to eat, too. I don’t think either of you have left the room since you got here.”
Josh raises his eyebrows. “It’s probably not a bad idea.”
* * *
Josh leads the way, hands in his pockets, head lowered. He doesn’t look for signs or ask for directions. It’s like he has the entire hospital mapped out. I wonder for a moment exactly how much time he’s spent in here. As if reading my thoughts, he murmurs, “When my dad was still able to eat, he used to swear that the hospital food would end up being the cause of his death, so I spent a lot of time at the cafeteria here getting him what he wanted. Then he got sicker, and in my mind it was my fault because it’s hospital food for a reason, right? It’s healthy and it’s what patients need to get better. So one day, I refused to get him the egg sandwich he wanted and I practically shoved the hospital food down his throat. The next day, he was no longer able to swallow on his own.” He laughs once, but it’s sad, broken. “Sometimes I wonder if he did it just to spite me. Because he was that damn stubborn. He went three days without food before his body finally shut down.” His steps falter before stopping completely. Then he turns to me. “This is so morbid, I’m sorry. Your grams isn’t…”
“I know,” I mouth, ignoring the heaviness of my heart at his words.
He starts moving again, his hands still in his pockets. “I spoke to the nurse while you were sleeping. There’s a specialist on duty tomorrow. Dr. Richards. He’ll be running all the tests and talking to your grams, so we won’t know anything until he gets here. Right now, she’s not in any pain. She has a slight cold, but her lungs are clearing. I guess it’s just her memory.” He glances at me quickly before looking away. “I’m sorry she doesn’t remember you, Becs. Especially considering you’re so damn hard to forget.”
Journal
I wonder if it’s possible for time to stand still.
For the seconds of the clock to just STOP.
For minutes to slow to a pause and then nothing exists.
Nothing but two beating hearts.
Mine and his.
Through forced smiles and encouraged actions, I’d been moving forward.
One kick at a time.
Time after time.
Day after day.
Night after night.
But now I realize I’d been numb.
Because when he appeared,
My heart skipped a pulse,
reminding me that I was alive.
And now, I wish for the numb.
As much as I wish for the next joint heartbeat.
~ ~
14
—Becca—
We spend the day in the hospital room with Grams who falls in and out of sleep. When she’s awake, she speaks to Josh mainly, asking questions about the skate tournament he just competed in, asking about Tommy. Josh finds ways to avoid her questions about “our relationship,” something Grams thinks is hilarious. But when she asks him about Natalie, I decide it’s time to leave the room and get some fresh air. It hurts enough she doesn’t remember me, but Grams remembers her. A girl who caused Josh nothing but hurt and anger.
I sit on a bench just outside the hospital doors and reply to my messages from Sandra, Pete, and Dad. The earliest Dad can get in is the day after next, so he asks me to stay until he arrives—as if I’d be doing anything else. Sandra assures me to take as much time as needed, and since it’s winter break, she can get the other volunteers to cover my shifts. And Pete—he offers as much support as he can from a thousand miles away.