“All right,” I agreed. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. But it didn’t make sense to hide the truth from Tia any longer.
“Are you going to text your mom?” she asked.
That was a loaded question. Mom had trusted me, and I let her down. What was I going to tell her? Yeah, Mom? By the way, I know you trusted me to take care of Nan while you were gone, but she’s in the hospital. I didn’t want to think about it.
“You have to tell her,” Tia said.
“I know. I just…don’t know how.”
Tia wrapped her hand around mine. She knew this was hard on me, even if she didn’t completely understand it.
“It’s better to do it now, than later,” she whispered.
She was right. I pulled out my phone and began typing.
Me: Mom. I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Nan is in the hospital. She just started shaking uncontrollably and I froze. Tia came though, and she drove us to the hospital. We’ve been here for a couple of hours. Text me back when you see this, please.
After I pressed send, I started bawling. Everything started coming out of me. I hated crying and I especially hated being vulnerable in public, but I couldn’t stop. I was so full of guilt. I let Mom down. I let Nan down. I let Clay down. Tia put her hand on my shoulder, and I hugged her tight.
I didn’t hear back from Mom, which made me even more anxious every moment. I thought about Clay, how he must be feeling. He had told me not to do it. I hoped he was okay, and wondered if he was angry with me. I remembered seeing his face and that terrified look he had.
“Oh, Clay,” I whispered to myself.
“Anna,” Tia whispered. “What are you talking about?”
I didn’t reply right away, I just looked at her and took a few deep breaths while she sat with that thought for a few moments.
“His name is Clay,” I finally replied. “And you have a drawing of him in your room.”
I watched her try to piece together what I was saying. Finally, Tia tensed up, and recognition dawned on her face. “Oh my God. How? You can’t be serious?”
“I’ll explain later. I promise I’ll explain everything.” I would; I owed her that. I hadn’t been a good friend to Tia, but she had always been there for me. Every time. The least I could do in return was be honest.
It felt like another hour before a doctor walked into the waiting room. He was an older man, balding with glasses. He wore a nametag that said Dr. MacDonald. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t know what to say or what to ask.
Tia took the lead and said, “Hey, sir.”
“Hello,” Dr. MacDonald said. “I’m assuming you’re the granddaughters?”
“Just her.” Tia pointed at me. “I’m a family friend.”
“I see. Your grandmother is in stable condition,” he said to me. “It was a seizure, though she stayed unconscious for a couple hours.” That’s not normal. Was that our doing? “We did a CT scan, which showed an unusual amount of electrical activity in her brain. Even though she doesn’t have a history of seizures, the Alzheimer’s can put her at risk.”
The electrical activity must have been Clay.
“Is she awake?” I asked.
“Yes, she woke up about twenty minutes ago. However, with her having been unconscious for quite some time, we ask that only one visitor goes in at a time. We don’t want to overwhelm her.”
“Anna, you go. I’ll be here, okay?” Tia said. “I’ll call my parents and tell them what happened.”
“Okay.” I was glad Tia had my back.
“Follow me,” the doctor said. The once-white walls were stained yellow, and the fluorescent lights were buzzing, bringing on a headache. Dr. MacDonald led me through a series of doors and down a hall to the very last room on the left. He opened it up and I noticed the lights were off, moonlight splashing the walls. Nan was sitting up in her bed, looking out the window. She didn’t acknowledge us.
“…Nan?”
She didn’t reply. I looked back at Dr. MacDonald and he only shrugged and said, “I guess I’ll leave you two alone.” And he left.
I was so scared. What did she remember? How much damage had we done in the hopes of fixing her mind? What if she hated me? Could she even speak? Questions filled me to the brim, turning my anxiety into a whirlpool. At least she was alive.
“Nan, I am so, so sorry about what happened,” I began. “I didn’t mean for that to go down. I was so scared. I freaked out, I froze, and I didn’t know what to do.”
She didn’t respond. She just looked out the window at the stars above the lake. I let out a breath and as my shoulders dropped, she turned to me
“I keep seeing you in the strangest places.”
She didn’t remember any of it.
As much of a relief as it was, it only made coming to terms with my grandmother being gone even harder. I closed my eyes and took a breath. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, I kept thinking to myself. But then I remembered what Clay had said: Nan didn’t have a healthy grasp of her memories. Maybe he was the one holding them together like a bridge and when he let go, it all collapsed…and so did her memory. It never would have been a permanent fix. Magic isn’t medicine.
“Look at you, always looking upset. Come over here,” Nan said as she pointed towards the chair beside her bed. I walked over and sat down. She grabbed hold of my hand and spoke softly.
“Young lady, I believe you told me that your name was Anna last time we spoke.” She remembered my name. But how? “My memory isn’t what it used to be,” she continued. “That’s what they keep telling me anyways. Now,
