Nan flipped through the channels until we got to a sitcom called Harry’s House. I remembered the episode we watched. It was the one where Harry’s stepdaughter, Kelly, went through a breakup and she was in her room crying into her pillow.
Harry kept trying to comfort Kelly, but eventually Kelly went on this huge rant about how men are pigs, trash, and not welcome in her room. Kelly shoved Harry out of her room and slammed the door. This was the part where Harry looked into the camera, sighed, and said, “I’m trying, universe. Be patient with me.” Nan and I said the famous catchphrase in tandem, then caught eyes and smiled.
She asked, “You know this show too?”
“I do,” I replied. I hesitated, then I said, “My grandmother and I used to watch it all the time.”
“Who’s your grandmother?” Nan asked, and everything seemed to pause when she asked that. Even my heart felt like it stopped. But I knew right then, in that moment I had to be brave.
“I’m trying to find her again. I think my biggest fear is her being gone.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. Time created distance between us, and I haven’t heard from her in a long, long time.” I glanced at her. There was no flicker of recognition in her eyes, but she glanced back at me and smiled.
“Time is a battle no one can beat, but it seems to me like your grandmother has a lovely granddaughter.”
I smiled at that. My phone’s alarm startled me as it buzzed. Six o’clock: dinnertime.
“It’s time for dinner, I’ll be right back.” I got up and went to the fridge. There was already a pre-made meal for Nan: a lasagna wrapped in tinfoil, some garlic bread, and a salad. Her pills were all organized in a little container labelled with the days of the week. I heated the pasta and bread in the microwave, then placed it on a plate with the salad, her medication in a little paper cup on the side. I set everything in front of her.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Nan said with a smile. “Looks delicious!”
I felt a bit too young to be called ma’am, but I smiled nonetheless.
She ate in silence for a few minutes, watching the TV. Then she turned to me. “So how do you know Jayla?” she asked.
God, I hated that. I hated that so, so much. I could feel a lump in my throat but I managed to say, “Oh, I met her at an installation once. She was showing off some artwork at the museum.” I didn’t know what else to say.
Nan nodded. “That sounds like my daughter. Showing the world she has a universe inside of her.”
In a way, Mom did show the world the universe inside of her. Her creations came from the heart. I loved the painting she had left in Grampy’s study. I felt bad about what I had said to her, but that didn’t mean it shouldn’t have been said, and sure, I think she knew where I was coming from. Just as I knew it wasn’t an easy thing for her to talk about. But we had to. That was the only way to move forward.
After Nan finished eating it was time for her bath. I drew the water, making sure it wasn’t too warm or too cold, and poured in the soap. I inhaled the scent she always smelled like: strawberry lemon. Nan was capable of bathing herself, so I waited down on the steps, holding the journal. I thought about Clay and our plan. Would tonight be the right night? Mom was gone, and it might be the only chance we would get.
“Clay, I need you.”
He walked out of the living room, leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said.
“Then you know this might be our only chance.”
“Anna, no.”
“Clay, come on. We’ve practiced, it worked.”
“On you, a sixteen year old. Not a senior citizen.”
“I believe in you.”
“And that’s the problem, Anna. This is all on me. What if I mess up? It may cause damage that might not be fixable.” He looked at me seriously. “This could be more than just nausea or headaches. She is a senior with memory loss, and I don’t know what’s going to happen. That’s what scares me about this!”
“I’ll take the blame,” I said. “If anything goes wrong, it’s on me not you.”
“That’s not how that works.” Clay shook his head.
I knew making him budge would be difficult. His concern was real, but the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced this was the only time we could do it.
“Clay, we might not get this chance again for a long, long time. Mom is gone. We just do it—we just bring her back.”
“It’s more complex than that, plus she’s not as strong as you. She’s old.”
“Yes, but she’s strong. She always was, and always will be.”
Clay sighed and shook his head.
“Clay, please. You know I know the risks. And if you were in her shoes, what would you want me to do? This is dangerous, yes. I’m not denying that. But you have a power—it’s more than rewinding time and creating nostalgia. You can cure whatever is going on inside of her, I know it, and that power is a gift.” I pointed my finger at him, touching his chest.
Clay looked around for a minute, and then looked to the floor. He seemed conflicted but I knew I could reason with him.
“Clay, I know you can do this. I know you’re scared, but sometimes we have to take a risk. We have to face our fears head on. That’s what being brave is about.” I paused and tried to catch his eye. “Can you save my grandmother? Not for me, but for her.”
Clay looked directed in my eyes, and I could see they were not as frustrated as before. I knew he genuinely wanted to help.
“I just want my
