“I’m just glad I fell away from you and not on you,” Georgia said. “A fall wouldn’t be good for the baby.”
Boop sighed. Georgia remembered Hannah was pregnant; that had to be a good sign, even if it was a bad sign that she’d fallen and didn’t remember.
“At least I didn’t miss my flight,” Georgia said.
“You’re not going anywhere. At least for a few days,” Boop said. Georgia was on pain meds and hadn’t looked in the mirror.
“The doctor said three or four days in the hospital to monitor you, then rehab,” Hannah said.
Boop slipped her hand into Georgia’s. Any other plans could wait.
“I’m just a little banged up.” Georgia moved her arm and winced, belying her positivity.
“A little is too much,” Hannah said.
“I’ll take care of you,” Boop said.
Georgia turned to Boop. “You’re too old to take care of me.”
There was the Georgia she knew. “Aren’t you full of compliments today?”
“I talked to the social worker,” Hannah said. “You’ll have home health aides.”
Boop squeezed Georgia’s hand. “Your job is to get better. Leave the rest to me.”
Georgia’s voice was low and a bit husky. “Hannah, dear, do you mind if I talk to your grandmother alone?”
“Of course.” Hannah walked out of the room. Boop knew when she finished talking to Georgia her granddaughter would be waiting on those uncomfortable molded plastic chairs in the waiting room.
Georgia folded her hands atop her chest. “This isn’t how you planned to spend the next month or two. You have to get ready for California.”
“I plan, God laughs,” Boop said.
Georgia grabbed Boop’s hand in both of hers. “I thought I was going to die,” she said.
Me too. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, and Boop’s words—the ones she thought and the ones she spoke, sounded cartoonish and elongated. “You were wrong.”
“When I was in that ambulance, I could only think of two things. I was going to get to see my sisters again—”
“Georgia, stop! You’re a little battered but a lot alive.”
“My only other thought was about you.”
Boop swallowed hard. “Don’t.” I’m not ready for Georgia’s deathbed sentiments.
“I made a promise to God.”
“Everyone does that. Do you know all the promises I made when I found out I was pregnant that summer? When Marvin was sick? I think God expects those promises to be broken.”
“Catholic guilt.” Georgia covered her mouth with her hand, and for the first time Boop noticed the unnatural angle of some of her joints, the collection of wrinkles on her fingers, all acutely visible when Georgia was still in the bed, not in perpetual motion. She spoke through her fingers like someone trying to hide rotten teeth. “I need to tell you something.”
“Right now? Can’t it wait until you’re feeling better? We’ll have lots of time to talk when you move in. I think God will understand a little reprieve.”
“You might not. I think you should sit.”
Boop pulled over a chair that slid easily on the linoleum floor. She sat as close to the bed as she could. Georgia inhaled and folded her hands at her chest, a little too corpse-like.
“Okay, what’s so important?” Boop knew that Georgia’s uncertainty, bordering on delusion, could creep in at any moment. She prepared herself for anything.
“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” Georgia said.
“I feel the same, Georgia. We don’t have to do this now.”
“Shush. Let me talk.”
Boop turned an imaginary key at her lips.
Georgia cleared her throat. “When I was in the ambulance, I was remembering how glad I was to have you and Marvin living in Skokie while I was at Northwestern, and then in med school. I was never alone on holidays—even when I didn’t go home for Christmas. Remember you sneaked a little tree into your house on Euclid Avenue? You and Marvin really treated me like family.”
“You weren’t like family; you were family. You are family.”
“Things worked out for you. You were happy.”
“Of course they did. Of course I was.” Even though recollections had bombarded Boop this summer, reminding her of when she’d dreamed of a different life and another love, this wasn’t the time to disagree with Georgia, or discuss it. At some point Hannah would find some information about Abe, and Boop would lock up the memories again.
“I would have done anything to protect you.” Georgia’s voice was strong, her words almost defensive.
“Protect me from what?”
“From being hurt again.”
Boop patted Georgia’s arm. “I know.”
“But you deserve to know the truth before I die. Before you die.”
Boop had no intention of dying anytime soon; she had the pageant to attend, a new great-grandchild to meet, and a move across the country.
“You’re not dying, Georgia. The doctor says you’ll be good as new. Or good as old, as the case may be.”
“Well, you need to know.”
“Okay, okay. What is it that I need to know?”
“Remember you asked me if I thought Abe ever came looking for you.”
“Yes, I know, it was a foolish thought, but all of us together, all the memories . . .”
“Betty!”
Boop quieted and snapped to attention. No one called her Betty anymore.
“He did,” Georgia said.
“Who did?”
“Abe.”
Georgia’s voice sounded far away but clear. She spoke slowly and loudly, as if she sensed Boop’s confusion. Or maybe so she wouldn’t have to repeat herself. “Abe did what?”
“Abe came back.”
If Georgia said words after that, Boop didn’t hear them. She was nauseated. Sweaty. Cold. Hot. Cold again. Shivering cold.
Abe had come back. To tell his side of the story? To apologize? To start over?
“Are you sure?” Georgia had been knocked on the head after all.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“When did this happen?”
“On your wedding day.”
Boop drew in a breath and gasped unintelligible sounds. Georgia blurred, as if she’d appeared at the end of a dream tunnel.
“My wedding day?”
Had Boop whispered, spoken, or yelled? She didn’t know. Maybe she’d said nothing. Georgia’s voice echoed in Boop’s brain.
Surely she’d misheard, or at the very least misunderstood. There was no chance Abe had come back and no one had told her. No way Boop’s
