by Liz Schulte
“It’s beautiful,” I croaked. My brained scrambled for an appropriate response to all of this. I couldn’t force a smile though; my mouth stayed stubbornly motionless.
“Not as beautiful as you.”
The sound of my phone ringing completely broke the moment. Air gushed back into my lungs with a surge of relief, and I fumbled for my purse, apologizing. I thought I had turned off the ringer. I wrestled the phone from the pocket in my purse. It was a number from New Haven. My heart sank just a little.
“I think I need to take this.”
Michael nodded, then leaned back in his chair. Sipping his wine, he left the ring box open and watched me.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Warren?”
“Yes?”
“Your grandmother has been in an accident …”
“What? Is she okay? What happened? Can I talk to her?”
“Mrs. Meriweather fell down some stairs in her home. She’s pretty banged up, some broken bones and bruising, a collapsed lung. She’s being taken to the hospital now. Are you still in the area? She’s asking for you.”
“I’m in Raleigh. Who are you?”
“I’m sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. Jasper Hixson. We went to school together … I’m a paramedic now. She kept saying your name, and I saw your number by her phone. I thought I should call.”
“Yes, Jasper, thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I hung up. “Michael, my gram’s been in an accident. I have to go. I’m sorry.”
Michael looked very concerned. “Is she okay?”
I waved my hand, dismissing his worry. “I’m sure she’s fine, but she’s asking for me.” I don’t know why I acted like that. I didn’t know her condition at all, but I couldn’t stand his empathy.
“Of course.” He tossed money on the table, scooped up the ring, and ushered me out of the restaurant.
There was a roaring in my ears and my heart thudded in my chest. I felt so helpless and so far away from Gram. I barely heard Michael as he talked on our way back to my house.
He walked me to my door, his blue eyes even brighter with anxiety. “You’re being awfully quiet. Are you worried?”
“Just thinking about everything I need to do.” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Thank you for understanding.”
He caught my arm as I started to walk into my house. “Selene, you haven’t answered my question.”
“Oh …” Leslie’s accusation echoed in my mind, but I wasn’t scared of moving the relationship forward. Michael was a good man, and I could do much worse. We just hadn’t discussed marriage before—that was the only reason I panicked. I nodded to myself before I answered. “Of course.” I kissed him again. “We’ll talk more about it when I get back.”
“Are you sure I can’t come with you?”
“No. We’ll plan a time for you to come down and meet her. I don’t want it to happen like this.” I was painfully aware of the minutes slipping by. “I’m sorry. I really do have to go.”
“Drive carefully, and call me when you get there or I’ll worry,” he said softly, holding me close.
I gave him one last chaste kiss. “I will.”
He gave me a half wave and a nod as I closed the door behind me.
Michael evaporated from my mind as I went into a packing, planning, and phone call frenzy. I called Jessica and told her what was happening so she could let the other girls know. I also begged her to watch my studio while I was gone. Then I called the other instructors to see if anyone could sub my classes. All the while, I threw everything I could fit into a suitcase. I cleared my bathroom counter into a plastic sack, then grabbed my cat and fought him into his carrier. And we were off.
The windows were down, Florence and the Machine blared in my ears, and I raced along with no regard for speed limits. It was just me and the moon tonight. I could feel the bright orb’s pull as it looked down on me and lit my path home.
“You keep her safe,” I whispered, as if something was up there listening to me. “Keep her safe.” I pressed harder on the accelerator.
It was after midnight when I tore into the hospital parking lot with my little red Ford Focus. I strode through the lobby directly to the desk. “My grandmother was brought in earlier tonight. Edith Meriweather.”
“Visiting hours are from 7 a.m. to 8 p.m. You can come back in the morning, dear.”
“You don’t understand. I need to see Gram tonight. She was hurt and asking for me. I need to see her.”
The woman appeared to be wavering slightly, so I went in for the kill, letting my eyes fill with tears as I spoke the absolute truth. “She’s all have, please.”
She nodded. “Don’t stay too long. She needs her rest.”
I nodded to her, wiping my eyes.
“Room 413.”
The hallways were eerily quiet. I eased into Gram’s room. My hand flew to my mouth, and I choked back a cry. She had an IV in her neck, and her face was swollen and horribly bruised. An arm was elevated, as was a leg. Poor Gram looked like she’d been hit by a bus then backed over again for good measure. I touched her free hand. It was cold and still—completely unlike its usual self.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here, Gram. I love you. I’ll be back in the morning. Be strong.” Energy coursed from me into her.
I forced myself from the room. All of my nervous energy suddenly zapped, I walked slowly back to my car then drove the familiar roads home. I pulled up to the front of the two story brick and shingle home I knew too well. In the dark the house looked creepy because it blended in with the background, and its dimly lit windows were like eyes staring down at whoever dared to interrupt its slumber. There was something unusual about the house tonight though. A soft light glowed from the half-moon window in the attic, welcoming me home.
What on earth was Gram doing in the attic?
I hefted Stewie and my bags up the steps on the porch and sat them at my feet as I dug out my keys to let myself inside. Once the door was securely closed, I let Stewie out of his cage. He took off in an unhappy streak of orange. I surveyed the house. It looked and smelled exactly as it did the first time I’d arrived when I was 7 years old—lived in and fragrant with fresh bread and lavender. Not all was cozy, however.
Blood smears at the bottom of the stairs marked where she had fallen. I went to the kitchen and got a wet cloth. When I was finished cleaning, I dragged my bags to my room in the turret and collapsed onto my bed. The room was peaceful and dark, the moon the only light. I was surrounded by complete and utter silence. It was, naturally, driving me mad.
After a few moments I gave up on sleeping. I walked around the house, taking in every familiar detail and touching objects that held sentimental value. My parents’ photograph, Gram’s quilt, the clay bowl I made for Gram in my first pottery class … Her house was a scrapbook of my life. I walked out the back door to the center of the yard. In the distance, waves crashed against the shore. My friend, the moon, still cast its silvery glow down on me. I held my arms out wide, surrendering to the power it held over me. I spun in a slow deliberate circle, my face lifted toward the pale majestic beauty. I breathed out all my tension, letting the night take it away.
“Gram will be okay,” I said aloud to make sure the universe understood that was the only outcome I was willing to accept. She would be fine and the cosmos better have my back on this one. I’d suffered enough loss for one lifetime. “No more will be taken from me, not now. I’m not ready.”
Peacefulness washed over me with the sounds of the waves. I stopped spinning and lay on the ground with my arms and legs spread out wide. My senses filled with the sound of the ocean, which I’d missed terribly, and the glow of the moonlight. After a while sleepiness found me. I sat up and went to my bedroom, where I slept like the dead until the alarm on my phone brought me back to life.
The sun had barely opened its eyes when I was already on my way to the shore. I spread my mat out on the beach and began my morning routine,
the sun salutations warming me from the inside out. I was having trouble focusing though. Something nagged at my consciousness, keeping me from relaxing fully. I glanced at my watch—barely 6 a.m. I couldn’t go the hospital for another hour. The feeling didn’t subside.
I collected my mat and turned to head back to Gram’s. I spotted someone off in the distance and had the distinct impression I was being watched. I was too far away to make out any features or even to tell whether it was a man or woman, yet I felt a steady stare penetrating me to the core.
I backed toward the house, seriously creeped out, but when the figure made no move to follow me I relaxed a little. I dropped my sandy mat on the porch, rummaged up some food for Stewie, and made a mental note to pick up cat food and litter. I showered and dressed quickly, wanting to make it to the hospital right at 7. I gathered my hair into a low ponytail, not bothering to do anything more than towel dry it, and pulled on the first things my hand landed on in my suitcase—olive green cargos and a blue and white striped sweater.
When I got to Gram’s room at the hospital, a nurse was standing next to her bed taking her vitals.
“Has she been awake?” I asked.
“In and out—but that’s normal. She’s heavily medicated for the pain.” The nurse recorded something on Gram’s chart, then turned to me and smiled. “You must be Selene. She has asked for you.”
I walked over to Gram, my eyes filling with tears. “I’m here, Gram.” I took her frail, shriveled hand in mine. “Has the doctor been by yet?”
“Not yet,” the nurse replied, collecting her things. “He should make his rounds within the hour.”
I thanked her, then focused back on Grandma, lightly squeezing the hand I was holding. “Can you hear me, Gram? I’m here now. Everything will be okay. You will be okay, you will be okay, you will be okay,” I chanted, picturing my strength and energy flowing into her.
“Selene?” The weakness in her voice made me gasp.
“I’m here, right here.” I leaned over her, afraid she couldn’t see me.
“Selene, they’re looking … for you.” Gram’s breath was labored, and she seemed to be fighting against falling back asleep.
“It’s okay, Gram, I’m here.” I didn’t understand what she was talking about.
“Don’t. Let. Them. Get. You,” she said before her eyes closed again.
I rubbed my arms, fighting off goose bumps, and reminded myself she’d had a bad fall and probably hit her head. She had no idea what she was saying. There was a soft knock on the door, and it opened. A middle-aged, medium build man with wire-rimmed glasses and a white coat strolled in. The doctor I presumed.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Kennedy. Are you Mrs. Meriweather’s granddaughter, Selene?”
“I am.” Holy geez, grandma must’ve raised quite the fuss about my not being here last night. Everyone and their brother knew my name. I shook his cool, sterile hand. “How is she?”
Dr. Kennedy leaned against the window ledge, sat his clip board down, and crossed his arms over his chest. “It appears your grandma fell down the stairs in her home last night. Amazingly, she was able to get to a phone and dial 911. X-rays show several fractures in her leg–it seemed to have taken the brunt force of the trauma. Her arm has a couple fractures. She has severe bruising on her face, and several broken ribs, resulting in a simple pneumothorax. Right now, her condition needs to be monitored to make sure it doesn’t worsen.” He picked up her chart and flipped through it. “Her vitals are strong—which is great—and your grandmother’s stronger than she looks. Many people her age would not have done so well. We’re waiting to cast her leg and arm until the swelling goes down. Do you have any questions for me?”
Nothing came to my mind, though I was positive I had many, many questions somewhere in my head. “Not at the moment.”
“It was nice meeting you, Selene. I’m sure it’s a great comfort to your grandma to have you here.”
I sat in the chair next to her bed and waited for her to wake up again. Staring out the window into the bright sunlight, I longed for a piece of it rather than the cold fluorescent lighting in the room. My cell phone vibrated against my leg, waking me from my selfish longings.
“Hello,” I said, moving closer to the window in the hopes of getting better reception than the one bar the phone showed.
“Selene? I can barely hear you.”
“Michael, yeah it’s me. My reception is terrible here.” Oh crap, I completely forgot to call him. In fact, from the moment I shut my front door, he never once entered my thoughts. “I’m so sorry I forgot to call you last night.”
“I take it you made it safely. How’s your grandmother?”
“She’s pretty banged up, but I think she’ll be fine.”
“That’s wonderful. Do you know when you’ll be coming back?”
“No. It depends how she does.”
He was silent for a long while. I wasn’t sure if we were disconnected. I started to pull my phone away from my ear to check when he spoke again. “You didn’t take your ring.”
I dropped my head to my hand. I was a horrible person. “Oh. I’m so sorry. It completely slipped my mind.” I shook my head, struggling with the fact that everything I thought to say sounded like an excuse. “The ring is perfect,” I said softly.
“Have you told your grandma yet?” I could practically hear the smile in his voice.
“She hasn’t been awake long enough.”
He made a sympathetic noise. “So it is pretty bad, huh? What happened?”
“I guess she fell down some stairs. Lots of broken bones and a punctured lung.”
“A customer just came in, I have to go. Call me tonight. Or I’ll call you.”
“I will. Talk to you later.”
“I love you. Bye.”
I smiled to myself when I hung up the phone. He was just so sweet.
“Selene.”
At the sound of grandma’s voice, I popped up from my chair and was in her line of sight within a second. “How are you feeling, Gram? Do you need anything? Should I call the nurse?”
“What are you doing here?” she asked me as sharply as her weak voice could manage.
I looked around to make sure no one else was in the room. “Gram, it’s me, Selene. Where else would I be?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my eyes. I can see that it’s you,” she said crossly. “Get home and get the book. They’re after you, child.”
“What book? Who’s after me?”
“Don’t let them catch you.” Again her eyes closed and her breathing evened.
Obviously they had her on good stuff. She was downright loopy. Who would possibly be after me? I looked at my watch. It was just 9 a.m., though it felt like it should be afternoon by now. In my rush, I brought absolutely nothing to do. If Gram’s pattern held, she wouldn’t wake up again for a couple hours. I had more than enough time to run down to the gift shop and get a cup of tea.
The overstuffed shelves in the gift shop were filled with very little that interested me. I considered running back to Gram’s house to see if I could find a book when I came across Little Dorrit. I’d seen the miniseries but never read the book. Seeing as time was plentiful at the moment, it was as good a time as any to read Dickens. After checking out, I crossed the lobby to the coffee kiosk.
“Can I help you?”
“I’ll have a soy iced chai latte, nonfat, no whip.”
Minutes later, drink in hand, I was headed outside for a couple moments of fresh air before I went back upstairs. I sat on a bench as far away from the door and the smokers as I could get. The sunshine soaked into my skin, making me tingle. I took a sip of my tea and cracked open the book, deeply inhaling its scent. There was nothing like the smell of a new book to awaken my mind. Before I could finish the first paragraph, however, someone sat on the bench with me. I glanced over out of habit, then startled at the familiar face.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, not even trying to stop the sharpness
in my voice.
“I told you I had to speak with you.”
My mouth fell open. “Mr. Hunt, did you follow me here? I’m not comfortable with that. You have to leave or I’m calling the police.” I pulled out my phone. Hunt snatched it from my hand so quickly it was nearly blur. I jumped off the bench and stumbled away, not wanting to turn my back to him.
He stood, moving towards me with purpose. “Selene, we need to talk.”
“Yeah, me to the cops, and you to a psychiatrist.”
“Stop being stupid. You’re in grave danger.”
“No shit.”
Hunt advanced faster than I could inch away. It was like a bad dream, where I was on a treadmill. I kept walking but got nowhere.
“Just stop,” Hunt said and lunged for me.
I covered my head and yelped, but his hands never touched me. I lifted my hands slowly. He stood too close, a little smile ticking his mouth. “So we’re playing that game?”
I stared at him. What game? I hadn’t done anything—except panic. “I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs if you don’t leave immediately.” I glanced pointedly at a cop car in front of the hospital.
Hunt chuckled, and the sound sent a cold shiver up my spine. “Be my guest, Selene—but first, look around. Has anyone noticed anything happening so far?”
He was right. Not one of the people nearby had glanced in our direction. What was wrong with everyone? I screamed at the top of my lungs until my throat was raw and my cheeks were hot. Not one person even looked my way. He looked at me like I was spoiled toddler. “Satisfied yet?”
“Is this a dream?”
Hunt ignored my words and reached toward me again. I flinched and stumbled—fell hard on my butt. A truly merry laugh erupted from Hunt now. It filled the air like thousands of bells chiming in perfect harmony and washed over my skin like a bucket of ice water. “I’d help you up, but alas I’m prevented from touching you.”
I scrambled to my feet. “It’s not funny, Mr. Hunt!” I snapped. “Oh, you’re a big tough guy following me around, trying to scare the bejeezus out of me. Well, I don’t appreciate it. I don’t know who you are or what you want, but stay away from me!”