by Kate Kelly
Sherry, an emergency nurse with twelve years of experience, oversees everything calmly. She is all efficiency and business, helping Lisa stay focused throughout. Still, without realizing it, Lisa is holding on to Sherry like a child as they wheel the stretcher into the ambulance, Ruby firmly strapped down.
“There’s only room for one,” the paramedic comments as he turns from the stretcher.
“Yes. I’m coming with you,” Lisa answers, finally relinquishing Sherry’s hand and turning toward her with gratitude. The kindness of strangers, Lisa thinks.
“Don’t worry. You’re in good hands now.” Sherry smiles, her eyes level. She gives Lisa’s hand a final squeeze as the medic pulls the ambulance door closed with a metallic thud.
It takes only a few minutes for the ambulance to make its way to Northwestern Memorial, but for Lisa it feels like hours as she sits nervously beside the two paramedics, holding Ruby’s hand and watching her grandmother’s eyes for signs of recognition or comprehension.
“When did you notice the paralysis?” the paramedic beside her asks, adjusting the oxygen mask over Ruby’s mouth, her eyes wild and unfocused above.
“When she woke up. I mean, when I was trying to wake her, about half an hour ago now.”
“So, no signs of anything before she fell asleep? She didn’t complain of a headache, of dizziness or numbness of any kind?”
“No. We were talking and she was fine. Sharp and coherent. She was telling me about her life.”
“No confusion?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“How long was she asleep for?”
“I’m not sure, but not long. Maybe twenty minutes. Is that important?”
“We need to establish the time of onset. It will determine what they can do for her at the hospital. Some drugs have to be administered within hours.”
“Will she be okay?”
“We can’t tell yet, but try not to worry. We’re headed to Northwestern, and it’s one of the best neurological centers in the country.”
At the emergency room, there are more of the same questions. Ruby is rushed into another area, while Lisa is left in the pale-yellow waiting room, surrounded by vending machines and desperation.
“Excuse me, Ma’am, did you come in with the elderly woman in the ambulance?” A short haired, perky nurse comes up to Lisa, her words clipped, her smile practised.
“Yes, I did. How is she?”
“We won’t know that until she has been examined and sent for some tests, but I will need you to fill out a few forms for me.” She hands Lisa a clipboard and pen, and points to the nearest chair—imitation blue leather with plastic yellow arms. “You can just bring them to the desk when you’re finished.” Another smile before turning away.
“When can I see her?” Lisa asks, embarrassed by the vulnerability she hears in her voice.
The nurse calls back over her shoulder. “As soon as the forms are filled out, I’ll take you to see her.” She turns to face Lisa, compassion on her face, her competence of a moment ago replaced with humanity. “And try not to worry. She is in the best hands, and everything that can be done for her is being done.”
Sitting down, the clipboard forgotten beside her, Lisa fumbles for her cellphone. In the pandemonium since the train, she has not thought about contacting anyone, but now with the small weight of the phone sitting in her hand, she feels the need for connection. She’ll have to call Aunt Phoebe. They were to meet tonight at the hotel after Phoebe’s conference. She’ll have to call her mom and dad too, but the first call she finds herself making is to her boyfriend, Stephen. The call goes to voicemail, but just the sound of his recorded voice brings a level of comfort. “Hi, Steve. I’m in Chicago, but I’m calling from the hospital. Nan had a stroke—I think. Well, I’m pretty sure. They’re with her now and I’ll know for sure after the doctor has looked at her.” Her voice breaks with the relief of the connection, with the realization that she is not alone in this. Controlling her emotions, she continues, “Don’t worry, I’m okay. I’ve got to call my dad and my aunt Phoebe, but I just wanted to let you know. Anyway, call me when you get this. Bye.”
Now, the rest of the calls, Lisa says to herself. She feels the fatigue of the trip and this experience settling in on her like a physical weight. Phoebe’s cell goes to voicemail, as does her dad’s. Leaving a similar message on both phones, she is unable to avoid the sound of controlled panic that has edged into her words.
She fills out the forms to the best of her ability, and returns them to the admissions desk. The same nurse leads her through the labyrinth of halls to a small, draped, temporary room. Ruby is lying in the bed, the green hospital gown adding to the ashen pallor of her face. The head of her bed is elevated, and another nurse is adjusting the drip of her I.V.
“How is she?” Lisa asks, her eyes searching Ruby’s face.
“Well, she is as comfortable as we can make her.”
“Can she hear me?”
“She can hear you. I just don’t know if she can understand you. The doctor will be in shortly to explain what is going on.”
“She’s had a stroke,” Lisa says turning to the nurse.
“Yes, she’s had a stroke.”
“LISA.” A HAND ON HER SHOULDER, gentle and familiar. Lisa smiles, opening her eyes and passing her hand through her hair. “Aunt Phoebe. You got my call?” she asks, her voice hushed, stealing a quick look at Ruby, whose eyes are closed and still.
“Yes, I tried calling you back, but I don’t think you can get a signal in here.” Moving to the bed and taking her mother’s hand, Phoebe continues. “How is she?”
“The doctor says she’s stable.” Leaning forward, Lisa watches the fear and concern pass over her aunt’s face. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Turning and reaching for Lisa’s hand with her free one, Phoebe smiles. “You’re doing great, honey. I spoke to Francis and Gary—they’re both on their way.”
“Good.”
“What have the doctors said?”
“A blood clot in the left hemisphere. She might need surgery, but they have given her some drugs to help stop the bleeding and they’re going to observe her progress.”
Moving the only other chair in the room beside her niece, Phoebe sits, taking Lisa’s hand in her own. “Poor Mom.”
“She’ll pull through this.” Lisa nods with conviction. “She’s strong and determined.”
“Yes, she’s strong and determined all right,” Phoebe answers, a smile in her voice.
The two women sit in silence, holding hands and watching Ruby, who drifts in a world beyond them. It’s a world without distinction, without edges, where light and dark swirl, dipping and reeling, fluidly like water..
“We should go and get something to eat and some rest. I don’t think it will do any good if we get sick.” Phoebe stands, breaking their vigilance. “We’ve been here for quite a while, and you’re looking pretty wiped, Lisa. We’ll come back first thing in the morning with your dad and Uncle Francis, but first let me take you for something to eat.”
Phoebe hails a cab just outside the hospital, opens the door for Lisa, and quickly gets in after her, giving the driver the address of the restaurant before she is even properly seated.
“Boy, you seem to know where you’re going around here,” Lisa says, smiling at Phoebe. She has always admired her aunt; she is so competent, pulled together, and beautiful.
“Well, I have been here for a week, you know, and it doesn’t take long to find the best places to eat. I found this great little restaurant called RoSal’s the second night I was here. I hope you like Italian.”
“Yes, that sounds good.” Lisa sighs, leaning into the comfort of Phoebe’s company.
THE RESTAURANT IS QUIET; the late supper rush is over, and although many of the tables are full, meals are finished and patrons are l
ingering over coffee and liquors, satiated and satisfied. Looking more like mother and daughter than aunt and niece—Phoebe’s tailored suit and briefcase the antithesis of Lisa’s jeans and casual sweater—they follow the hostess to their table.
“I just remembered the luggage. We didn’t get it when we arrived. In the commotion of everything, I didn’t even think about it,” Lisa comments, slipping into her chair and realizing with eager anticipation that she is actually hungry.
“Don’t worry; I think we’re almost the same size. When we get to the hotel, you can look through my stuff and use whatever you need. I brought so much with me to this conference, you’ll think you’re shopping at Holt Renfrew’s. We can stop off at a drugstore for a toothbrush and anything else you’ll need for tonight, then tomorrow we can go to the station. I’m sure the luggage will be there in a holding room or something.” Phoebe looks across at her niece. The candlelight plays with the angles of her face, making her look tired and drawn. “You look pretty tired, honey. We’ll eat and then head for the hotel. You need a good night’s sleep.”
“Yes, I need a good night’s sleep. It feels like I haven’t been to bed in weeks.”
“I’ll order for us, shall I?” Phoebe asks.
“Yes, that would be great.” Lisa, placing her hand on her stomach, leans back into the comfort of the chair, the atmosphere and the presence of her aunt helping to restore her somewhat.
“Did you want to tell me about the trip, Lisa? How was Nan doing leading up to the stroke? Did you notice anything unusual?”
“No, it’s so funny; there was nothing to indicate that this was going to happen. Nan was doing really well with the travelling and everything. We disembarked once and that was great. We spent time in the bar car and just chatted and laughed most of the day. She would fall asleep sometimes and be a bit disoriented when she woke, but she’s been like that since the stroke she suffered last year.”
“I wonder why she insisted on making this trip,” Phoebe says, shaking her head, her eyes distant.
“I’m not sure, to tell you the truth, but I think maybe she’s feeling trapped.” Lisa leans forward. “You know, trapped in the retirement home, trapped in the amount of time she has left. She wanted to see Chicago, to see you. She even wanted to go to California to see Uncle Francis.”
“Well, that all sounds pretty ambitious for a woman her age, doesn’t it? But then Mom was always that.”
Lisa detects a note of something in Phoebe’s voice, a deeper feeling or thought behind the words. Aware that she would never stray into these waters had it not been for all that has happened on the train, she asks as gently as she can, “Aunt Phoebe, how do feel about Nan?”
“Feel about her? What do you mean?” Phoebe, startled, looks over at Lisa, but before she can answer the waiter approaches. Phoebe orders their meal and then decides on a bottle of wine, Chianti. She whispers across the table to Lisa, “Maybe we’re going to need two bottles of wine for this.”
“It’s not going to be that bad.” Lisa laughs at Phoebe’s face, her eyes rolled to the side in mock desperation. “It’s just that Nan was telling me about her life during the trip, and some of the things she said… Well, some of it made sense, some of it gave me an insight into the whole dynamics of our family.”
“Okay, now I’m intrigued. What did she say?” Phoebe leans back while the waiter sets down their glasses, pours the wine, and smiles at the women.
“Well, there was a lot.. I mean, it was a long trip!” Lisa laughs. “And she is quite a character.”
“That’s the truth! She has a big personality. She’s full of life, full of adventure, and she’s great in company, always on stage. You know what she believed about the stage?” Phoebe asks. Smiling at the memory, she continues without waiting for Lisa to reply, “When you’re on the stage, take it!” Swinging her arms in the air for emphasis, Phoebe laughs, short and loud, a sound that leaves a heavy echo in the heart.
Moving into the silence Phoebe has left, Lisa begins, hesitantly, to tip-toe into the deep water, wondering what could possibly be compelling her. “I suppose one of the things she said that struck me was that she thought she was afraid of you. Did you ever feel that, that she was afraid of you?”
“No, I never thought that,” Phoebe answers, staring into the candle and continuing after a moment. “Sometimes I wondered…. I mean, I am her daughter and I know she loves me, but I wondered sometimes if she ever really liked me? For years, I felt she didn’t actually like me.” She shakes her head again. “But no, I never thought she was afraid of me. The only thing that makes me think of is that when she was younger, she had great feminine power, and she knew how to use it. Was she afraid of other women? Of me? Was I competition? None of us, Francis or your dad or I, pursued the arts in any way; that was our mother’s realm, and I guess we instinctively knew that. But I never thought she might be afraid of me. It’s an interesting insight.” She pauses. “Ruby Grace was a force to be reckoned with, a star in her own right, a singer, an actor, and I think a bit of a narcissist, too busy being loved to really love.”
“Do you actually think that, Phoebe?”
“Sometimes. We—her children, especially Francis and me—we were afterthoughts, casualties. I think that’s why neither of us have had successful relationships. I think we have to come to terms with that. Your dad was different; he was the youngest, the baby, and Leland adored him.”
“Nan talks about Leland James a lot. I think she still misses him.”
“Yes, that was a love match, but again maybe it was more about Leland loving her.” Phoebe reaches across the table and smiles into Lisa’s troubled face. “Don’t look so downcast, honey. I might be way off base here. I’m just trying to come to terms with a childhood that sometimes left me feeling lost more than anything. If you grow up like I did, you end up wondering why, and then you spend the best part of your life trying to figure it out and come to terms with it.
“But yes, Leland James and Ruby Grace were a love match. I have never had that, never experienced what it was that they had … a devotional love. I think your mom and dad have some of that, Lisa. Gary and Bernadette. I wonder if they know how lucky they are?”
“I think they do.”
“Good. How’s your mom doing, anyway? I haven’t seen Bernadette since Christmas.”
“She’s great. She’s a principal now and I think she’s enjoying the new challenges. Dad’s always teasing her about wanting her to give him detention.” Lisa smiles at the memory of her parents, flirting and joking in the kitchen before she left for Chicago. Was it really only yesterday?
“And you and Jacklyn have been spending time together, as usual.” Phoebe smiles at the thought of the two cousins as young girls, always together. She always thought they were more like sisters than cousins.
“Jacklyn must have told you—she was trying to come with us, but with the kids it’s hard to get away.”
“Yes, she told me she was trying to get things organized to come, but she just didn’t have enough time. Jacklyn has her hands full right now. It’s a busy time for her.”
Their meals arrive, the same smiling waiter placing the dishes before them with a flourish. The heavy fragrance of rosemary and garlic floods the table, and Lisa’s mouth salivates in anticipation. They eat in silence, savouring the food, enjoying the wine, although Phoebe notices that Lisa is hardly touching hers.
“I want to tell you something, Lisa. I haven’t even told Jacklyn, but it looks like I’ll be moving back to Ontario.”
“Wow, that’s great, Aunt Phoebe! Jacklyn will be so happy.”
“Yes, I’ll be happy to be back too. I’m missing Jacklyn and the kids, and I feel like I’m too far away from everything living in Vancouver. I’ve enjoyed my years out there, but I’m ready to move back. I applied for a transfer a few months ago, and I just found out yesterday that it was granted.” Phoeb
e smiles, lifting her glass in a salute.
“This is wonderful! Dad will be pleased about this. And Mom. Well, everyone will be.” Lisa’s voice rises with enthusiasm.
“Yes, I’m looking forward to coming home. And now with your grandmother and everything that has happened, I think the timing couldn’t be better.”
“Would you ladies like to order dessert?” the waiter asks, holding out a thin white menu like a trophy.
Phoebe looks across at Lisa and raises her eyebrows questioningly.
“Not tonight, as tempting as it is. I’m just too tired,” Lisa answers, stifling a yawn as if for emphasis.
“Just the cheque then, thank you,” Phoebe says, speaking to the waiter but laughing at Lisa.
The cab ride to the hotel doesn’t take long, but it is all Lisa can do to not fall asleep. Phoebe is quiet; she recognizes Lisa’s fatigue, and she’s anxious to get her comfortably situated in her room.
“Here we are,” Phoebe says, pulling the plastic card from its slot and opening the door to the hotel room. “I’ll get you a night dress if you want to use the bathroom and wash up or something. You can use any of my stuff in there. There’s night cream and makeup remover, although at your age you probably don’t need the night cream.”
By the time they are in bed, it is after midnight. Turning out the side lamp, the darkness almost complete, Phoebe relaxes for the first time that day.
“Thanks for the dinner tonight, Aunt Phoebe,” Lisa says into the darkness. “And for being there.”
“You’re welcome.” Phoebe laughs. “It was my pleasure. What else is family for?”
Lisa smiles at the sound of her aunt’s voice, familiar and reassuring across the few feet of darkness separating them. The pull toward sleep is overwhelming; Lisa can feel her eyelids closing, but her mind is still active, alive with the thoughts and feelings of the day. “Phoebe?”
“Yes?”
“You said that Leland adored my dad. Do you know why?”