by Lin Oliver
I walked to the water fountain and took a long drink.
It didn’t work, though. The only thing that hydrating helped me do was splatter water completely down the front of my shirt.
Should I play or perform? The question kept circling around in my head, and no clear answer was presenting itself. I thought of calling GoGo to discuss the situation. I reached for my phone, but put it back in my pocket almost immediately. There was no point in calling, because I already knew what she would say.
Follow your heart, Sammie darling. That’s the only sure path to happiness I know.
Well, what happens when your heart doesn’t know what to do? What then? My heart was so busy beating up a storm that I couldn’t hear anything it was saying except lub dub, lub dub, lub dub. And frankly, that wasn’t much help.
I decided to use logic, something that is not necessarily one of my talents. Logically, the main reason to choose the tennis match over the performance was Charlie. She was counting on me, and I owed it to her to show up for our match. I had to be loyal to her.
That does it; decision made. I’m going to march right in there and tell Ms. Carew I can’t make the performance.
But wait. Didn’t I owe it to myself to do what I wanted to do? Charlie had. She purposely didn’t tell me about the party. Where was her loyalty to me?
That does it; decision made. I’m going to march right in there and tell Ms. Carew I will definitely be there for the performance.
But I had to tell Charlie right now. That was the decent thing to do. I would explain that just like her, I had found a group of friends who I wanted to be with. She would understand that. My dad wouldn’t, and he’d be steaming mad. But eventually, he’d get used to the idea. GoGo would help him see my side of things.
Done. Decided. Do it.
I reached for my phone and texted Charlie.
CALL ME RIGHT AWAY. HUGE CHANGE OF PLANS. MUST TALK TO YOU.
I waited for a few minutes, but when she didn’t text me back, I went into the multipurpose room. Everyone turned to look at me as I entered. I raised both my hands above my head and threw them a double thumbs-up. It was a classic GoGo move, and it made me think of her every time I did it.
“I’m in!” I shouted.
“Sam-mie, Sam-mie, Sam-mie,” Alicia chanted, and the others joined in. It felt great to be part of such a supportive group of friends. I didn’t even have to win a tournament to be accepted by them. I just had to show up.
As I was taking my seat, my phone rang. I checked the number, and it was Charlie.
“I’ll be back in a second,” I said. “I have to let my sister know.”
I grabbed my phone and ran outside into the lunch area.
“Charlie,” I said. “I’m so glad you called. I have something really important to tell you.”
“Sammie,” she interrupted. She was crying. “Something terrible has happened.”
Did she know? Who told her?
“Charlie, hear me out first.”
“Sammie, listen to me. It’s GoGo.”
My heart started to thump in my chest. “What’s wrong with GoGo?”
“There was a car accident,” Charlie said. “She’s in the hospital.”
“Is she okay? Please, Charlie. Say that she’s okay.”
All she said was, “We don’t know yet. We’re coming to pick you up now.”
And then the phone went dead.
The Hospital
Chapter 15
“Where’s the emergency room?” my dad asked the attendant as we came screeching into the parking lot of the Santa Monica–UCLA Medical Center. Charlie and I were in the backseat, and Ryan was sitting up front with Dad.
“You have to park in the structure,” the attendant said.
“You don’t understand,” my dad argued. “My mother-in-law was just brought here by ambulance. We have to get to her immediately.”
“Everybody’s got problems here,” the attendant said. “That’s why it’s a hospital. Park in the structure. Two lefts, then a right.”
It felt like forever before we got a parking space. I was so nervous, my hands were shaking and sweating at the same time. We didn’t know much—only that GoGo had left Charlie’s beach party to go to the market to get more drinks. She was turning onto Pacific Coast Highway, and another car plowed into her. When the paramedics called my dad, they said she was conscious, but they didn’t know the extent of her injuries.
“Why did she have to go to the store?” Charlie kept saying over and over on the drive to the hospital. “Why did she have to go?”
But of course GoGo had to go. She always wanted to make sure everyone had a good time. She wouldn’t have wanted them to run out of things to drink.
The waiting room was full of people. Some were coughing, some were holding crying babies, and some were just sitting there looking sick or sad. We rushed to the reception desk where a nurse was filling out forms.
“We’re here for Phyllis Platt,” my dad said. “She was brought in about a half hour ago.”
“Are you family?” the nurse asked.
“She’s our grandmother,” I blurted out. “Do you know if she’s okay?”
“She’s in surgery, honey. You can all take a seat in the waiting room. The doctor will speak to you when we know more.”
Surgery! Oh no. What were they doing to her?
“Can you tell us anything?” Charlie asked. She sounded as scared as I felt.
“I’m sorry, dear. Only the doctor can tell you about her condition.” The nurse looked at Charlie, then at me. “You’re twins, right?”
We nodded.
“Which one’s older?” she asked, but her phone rang before we could answer.
We took a seat where the other people were waiting and sat there for what seemed like forever. No one said a word. We were each deep in our own thoughts, too scared to talk. I knew that if Alicia were here, I’d be talking to her. Or any of the other Truth Tellers for that matter. They weren’t afraid to talk about their feelings, to admit their fears. But it wasn’t the Diamond family way. We were jocks. We kept our cool. We didn’t show weakness. And so we were silent.
Finally Dad got up and went to the bathroom, and when he came out, he said, “You kids wait here. I’m going to call your mother. Get me right away if the surgeon comes out.”
The man next to us was watching TV really loud, a show about fishermen who catch crabs. No kidding. They actually make shows about stuff like that. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Let’s move,” I whispered. “The TV is driving me nuts.”
We got up and found three seats together. Ryan started to sit in the middle, but Charlie asked if she could sit next to me. She was looking so sad. Crying had made her eye makeup run down her face, and her nose was red from blowing it. Ryan was trying to tough it out, but he looked so pale and serious. He was always the life of the party, but now he looked like he was on the verge of crying. He picked up a magazine from the coffee table, then put it down. Picked up another one and put it down. His knee was bobbing up and down like it had a motor in it.
“She’s going to be fine,” he said to us. “She has to be.”
“I feel so awful,” Charlie said. “Oh, Sammie, if only I hadn’t had that stupid party. We would have been together, just the five of us. And GoGo wouldn’t have gone out for drinks, and then that stupid car wouldn’t have . . .”
Her voice broke in the middle of the sentence. I reached out and took her hand.
“It’s not your fault, Charlie. It was an accident.”
“I just wish I could turn back the clock,” she said. “I wish it were still this afternoon. I wish Mom were here.”
I put my arms around her and hugged her. I could feel her trembling.
“Shhh,” I whispered, like GoGo would have if she were there with us. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Listen, guys,” Ryan said. “We have to be brave. The last thing Dad needs is three babies on his hands.”
I felt my phone vibrate and reached into my purse to get it. It was Alicia.
“Do you know anything yet?” she asked.
“We’re still in the waiting room. She’s in surgery.”
“Do you want me to come there and sit with you? My dad said he’d take me.”
“It’s okay. My brother and sister are here.”
“Everyone from Truth Tellers says to send you big hugs. Call me as soon as you hear anything.”
“I will, Alicia. Thanks for being there.”
“She’s a good friend,” Charlie said as I put my phone back in my purse. “Solid. It’s nice to have someone to lean on. Someone you can trust.”
“Has Lauren called you?” I asked her.
“Not yet. I’m sure she will, though.”
“She called me,” Ryan said. “On the way in.” He must have noticed Charlie’s shocked reaction because he quickly added, “She says to send you her love and all that other girl stuff.”
That was so like Lauren. She had time to call Ryan, but no time to call the girl who was supposed to be her best friend. She was what Mom calls a “boy’s girl,” someone who would cancel a date with a girlfriend if a boy called and asked her out. I wondered why Charlie didn’t see that. I guess she just wanted to be friends with Lauren so badly, she was willing not to see the truth.
The double doors at the end of the waiting room flew open, and a doctor wearing green scrubs and a flowered surgical cap came out.
“Is the Platt family here?” she called out.
“We’re here,” Ryan answered, springing to his feet so fast, he looked like a jack-in-the-box. “Actually, we’re the Diamond family, but we’re the Platt family, too.”
Charlie bolted outside to get Dad while Ryan calmed himself down enough to explain to the doctor that our last name was Diamond, but GoGo was our mom’s mom and her last name was Platt. By the time he finished, Dad and Charlie had arrived.
“How is she?” Dad asked the doctor.
I took a deep breath and braced myself for the news. Charlie reached out and took my hand.
“I’m Dr. Memsic,” the surgeon began, pulling off her cap. I was surprised to see that she had long, blond hair and looked kind of like a surfer. I don’t know what I thought surgeons looked like, but I thought they looked glamorous only on TV. “Ms. Platt suffered a broken tibia and fibula in the accident. Those are the bones in your shin,” she explained, looking at Charlie and me.
I knew that. When you’re a competitive athlete, you get very familiar with all the different bones you can break and muscles you can injure and tendons you can pull. Compared to other kids our age, the Diamond kids have a pretty complete medical vocabulary, at least as far as sports injuries go.
“We’ve repaired the break using four screws and a rod,” Dr. Memsic went on. “As far as we can assess, aside from some bruising and cuts, that is the extent of her injuries. She’ll need a few days in the hospital and six to eight weeks of recovery. Then physical therapy. But with good care, she’ll be okay.”
She’ll be okay!!!! Oh, those were the best three words in the English language. Well, actually the best three and a half, if you count the contraction as a half.
Charlie and I fell into each other’s arms, sobbing. I was so relieved that I wanted to cry and holler at the same time.
There should be a word for that. Croller. Yeah, that’s it. I wanted to croller.
Actually, I did croller. Right in Charlie’s ear. But that was okay, because she was crollering in mine!
“Now, which one of you is Sammie and which one is Charlie?” Dr. Memsic asked, looking at Ryan and Dad.
“I’m Sammie,” I said. “Short for Samantha.”
“And I’m Charlie. Short for Charlotte.”
Dr. Memsic smiled. “Twins?” she asked. We nodded and waited for her to ask which one was older, but she didn’t. Instead she said, “How’s it feel to be monozygotic?”
“Huh?” Charlie and I said in unison.
“Monozygotic. That’s the scientific term for identical. It means ‘formed from one egg.’”
That was news to me. Imagine, all these years being an identical twin and the word monozygotic had never come up.
“Your grandmother specifically asked for you two,” Dr. Memsic said. “She’s in the recovery room. She said it was important, so I’m going to let you visit for two minutes. Keep it brief and stress-free.”
Dad and Ryan went outside to call Mom and tell her the good news, while Charlie and I followed Dr. Memsic through the double doors and down a gleaming, white hallway to the recovery room. At first, I gasped when I saw GoGo. She was lying in a big hospital bed with a blue oxygen tube in her nose. She was hooked up to a monitor that showed every beat of her heart, and her leg was all splinted up. Her eyes were closed, and for a minute I thought she might be dead.
“Oh, GoGo,” Charlie cried. “Poor GoGo.”
“Can she hear us?” I asked Dr. Memsic.
“She’s still very sleepy, but she’ll respond if you touch her.”
Charlie and I went to GoGo’s bedside and picked up her hand gently. My hand was under hers and Charlie’s was over hers. It was like we were having a soft, sweet, three-way handshake.
“We’re here, GoGo,” I whispered.
“And we love you so much,” Charlie added.
GoGo opened her eyes. She looked around the room as if she weren’t quite sure where she was. Then her eyes focused on us and she smiled—that perfect, wonderful GoGo smile.
“My girls,” she said, trying to sit up. “My darling girls.”
Dr. Memsic came up to the bedside. “I need you to rest now, Ms. Platt. Don’t try to move. Your granddaughters can come back tomorrow.”
“I have something to say,” GoGo said, “and it can’t wait.” With that, she turned her head and focused her blue eyes on Charlie and me. “You girls were fighting,” she said. “That’s not good.”
“We’re not fighting anymore,” Charlie said. “We’re all better now. Aren’t we, Sammie?”
Were we? I didn’t know, but this was not the time to discuss it.
“All better,” I said.
“You’re family to each other,” GoGo whispered to us, her voice sounding weak and raspy. “Family forgives. Family loves.”
“We know,” Charlie reassured her. “We’ll fix it.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” I said.
She turned to look at Charlie. “You too?”
“We’re fine now. Everything is back to normal. We’re playing our first divisional on Sunday, and we’re going to win it for you, GoGo. Together. Isn’t that right, Sammie?”
GoGo looked at me and waited for my answer. Sunday, the day of the performance. Sunday, the day of the tournament.
Which would it be?
There was no doubt in my mind now.
“We’re going to win it for you, GoGo,” I said.
She smiled, and as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, she squeezed both our hands and whispered, “Family is love.”
When we got home later that night, I took my phone into the bathroom where Charlie couldn’t hear me and dialed Alicia’s number.
“My grandma’s okay,” I said to her. “She broke her leg, but she’ll recover.”
“Thank God, Sammie. My whole family lit candles for her.”
“Tell everyone, will you? And tell them I’m not going on Sunday.”
“Because you’re going to stay with your grandma?”
“No, becau
se I’m going to play in the tournament with my sister.”
There was a long silence, and then Alicia said, “Sammie, are you sure that’s what you want to do?”
“My family is counting on me,” I told her. And before I could start to cry, I said a quick good-bye and hung up.
The Divisionals
Chapter 16
“Your mom just texted that her flight gets in at seven thirty this evening,” my dad said as we piled our rackets and tennis bags into the trunk of the car. “Too bad she’ll miss your match.”
It was Sunday afternoon, and we were heading for the tournament. A low fog hung over Santa Monica, and even though it wasn’t really cold, Dad made us wear warm-up suits so our muscles would stay loose.
“Dad, she’s not coming back to watch us play tennis,” Charlie pointed out. She tossed the last of her things in the trunk and slammed it shut. “She’s coming to see GoGo.”
“A person can do two things at the same time,” he said. He opened the back door of the car for us to get in. “You girls going to have enough room back there?”
“Sure,” Lauren said. “We’ll squeeze.”
That’s right. I said Lauren.
She had invited herself along to watch our match, supposedly to support us, but it just so happened that Ryan was coming, too. Aren’t we all so surprised?
“Charlie, you sit in the middle because you’re the smallest,” Lauren ordered. I don’t know who put her in charge of the seating arrangements.
Oh, right. She put herself in charge, like she did for most things.
“I’ll scrunch in back of you, Mr. Diamond,” she went on. “Sammie, do you think you can fit in back of Ryan on the passenger side?”
“I’m not a whale, Lauren. You don’t have to strap me on top of the car or anything.”
“I didn’t mean to insult you. I was just saying—”
“Sammie doesn’t like to talk about her size,” I heard Ryan whisper as he took Lauren’s hand and guided her into the backseat. “She’s sensitive about it.”
In the interest of keeping the peace before the tournament, I decided to let it go, although what I wanted to say was that my body’s shape and size was not a topic open for public discussion. Or for private discussion, either. But recognizing that all our nerves were a little shot from the stress of the accident, I held my tongue. We had spent most of the day before at the hospital visiting GoGo. Each of us could only go in for a few minutes at a time. On each of Ryan’s trips in, he’d tell her a joke from his vast collection of marginally funny jokes. On each of Charlie’s trips in, she’d sing one of GoGo’s favorite Beatles songs that she had taught us from the time we were born. I’m not what you’d call a great singer, so after a couple attempts at “Hey Jude,” GoGo asked if I would read to her instead.