In that moment I didn’t care. All I cared about was Nan being back.
“Hon, I haven’t seen you in years.” Nan pulled back and studied my face.
“It’s been way too long,” I agreed while she squeezed my cheeks. “Way too long.”
I pulled up a chair and held on to her hand. “Do you remember anything that had just happened?”
“We were just watching TV…why, did I doze off?”
Clay must have blocked Nan from remembering what happened; she just thought I’d been there all along.
“Yeah, you must’ve dozed off,” I lied.
“Guess that nap got the better of me,” she said as she got up. “I think I need a coffee.” She started towards the kitchen.
“I think I could use one too,” I said, standing up as well.
“I guess you’re not too young for caffeine anymore.”
Before Nan reached the coffee maker, I stopped her and said, “Why don’t I do it this time? You just take a seat.”
“You can’t be a guest and make me coffee!” Nan grinned.
“I’m not a guest,” I said. “I’m here to stay.”
Clay has nothing to worry about, I thought. The plan had worked perfectly. Better, even. I couldn’t believe she was back—it was like nothing had happened.
“How’s school been treating you?” Nan asked.
“It’s been fine,” I lied again while starting the machine. The smell of brewing coffee filled the air. Sure, it was almost bedtime, but Nan and I had a lot to catch up on. A coffee would do us just fine.
“You’re going to be heading to your first year of high school in September, won’t you?” Nan raised an eyebrow at me.
“I’m sixteen, Nan,” I said with a laugh. I picked out some mugs while I waited for the coffee to finish up.
“Sixteen?” She laughed. “Sorry, love. Time flies at my age. Wait until your grandfather gets home. He’ll be so happy to see you.”
Oh, my God.
She didn’t know.
She didn’t know he was dead.
She didn’t know about the funeral.
Did her old memories block it out? Were there too many things going on in her mind at once? I didn’t know. Suddenly I felt anxious to the point of throwing up.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, trying to keep my composure. “I…have to use the washroom.”
I grabbed the journal from the living room and went upstairs to my bedroom.
“Clay! Clay, did you hear that?”
He made himself visible to me. “Yes.”
I glanced up at him and had to do a double take. He looked paler than normal—not grey, but white. I could see his fists were clenched tightly, like he was having a difficult time keeping them shut.
“What’s going on?” I asked him.
“Um, a couple things,” he said. “It seems like bringing her back jiggled some things.”
“You think? She doesn’t even know Grampy is dead!”
“I told you this wouldn’t be easy,” Clay said, gripping his hands even harder.
“What’s going on with you? Are you okay?” I reached for him.
“Anna. If I let go, it’s going to hit her like a pile of bricks.”
I took a step back. “What do you mean?”
“It’s the same thing that happened with your headache, but it was easier with you. You still had a healthy grasp of your memories. But with her—” he paused and grimaced. “There’s too much going on. There’s too much to sort out. She isn’t young. Her memories didn’t just come back neat and orderly—they spun, shifted.” He looked at me. “Anna, I’m afraid she’s going to crumble.”
His fists gripped harder and blue energy leaked through his fingers. My heart fell to my stomach. I couldn’t believe I pushed Clay to go through with this. I should have just listened to him, but I had to go and fuck everything up. Again.
“Anna,” Clay said, bringing me back. “You wanted to find out more about Rudy’s past. This might be your only chance. I can’t hold much longer and when I let go, she might be….”
“She might be what?” Anxiety filled me to the brim.
“She might be gone,” Clay whispered.
I didn’t pause to let that sink in, I just ran down the stairs.
Nan was sipping her coffee, smiling to herself and humming a nostalgic rhythm. Everything felt so perfect, calm, and normal. This was exactly how I remembered her. And that is what made everything hurt so much more.
“Nan,” I started. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, sweetie. You can ask me anything.”
Everything inside of me shook. I didn’t have a lot of time. I wanted to ask Nan so many questions. I wanted to sit with her and watch TV one more time. I wanted to stay up all night and catch the sunrise with her.
Then it hit me like a brick wall: I hadn’t thought about the after, I had only focused on the now, and it wasn’t something we could maintain. The way Clay held his fists shut made it look like he was using every fiber of his being, and I couldn’t have him hurt himself in this process. I’d already hurt him so badly.
“I overheard you say something once…,” I began, trying to catch my words before I broke out into tears.
“Nosy girl.” Nan smiled.
“I know.” I cleared my throat. “But I think this is important. Nan, am I named after someone?”
She raised an eyebrow. “What makes you ask that?”
She knew I knew there was a secret, I could see it in her face, but she didn’t answer me.
“Nan,” I pressed, “is there another Annaka?”
She looked at me hard. She had the “you ain’t grown enough for grown-up talk” look on her face. But I was sixteen, and not a little girl any more.
“I think that’s a conversation for you and your granddaddy.”
“He’s not here. And he’s not coming back,” I said, and then caught myself. “He’s…going to be…gone for a few days.”
Nan frowned. Shit, I shouldn’t have said anything. I thought about Clay holding everything together. Time was running out. I asked again.
“Nan, who is Annaka?”
“You are! The one and
