Chapter Thirty
I think I get it now.
I don’t want to, but I do.
I get why Callum followed this man around for so long. I get the look in his eye whenever he talks about him, a begrudging kind of respect for the man, even if he disagrees with his actions.
Jack Doyle is good in an emergency. That stoicism and I know what I’m doing attitude that I wanted to rip apart before is now what’s keeping me from having a panic attack right there in the passenger seat.
He doesn’t bother with small talk or any talk for that matter for the rest of the ride, breaking the silence only to check in with Granny and make sure she’s lucid.
He switches on the radio at some point, and I can only sit there as they talk about traffic jams and politics in between pop songs. It baffles me how the world can keep turning. How other people can keep continuing as normal when my world has been brought to a sudden, terrifying halt.
By the time we get to the hospital, I’m a wreck.
Exhausted and emotional. I don’t know whether I’m hungry or thirsty or both.
But I’m too stressed out to figure it out as I sit in one of the hard plastic chairs and fill out all the details, my hands moving automatically across the page with all the information I’ve memorized over the years.
Because despite my panic, I’ve prepared for this moment.
I know all her security information, I know her medical history, I know her GP and her medical team, and I know which medications she is taking and the dosage of each.
I know the side effects, even the ones she tries to hide from me.
It takes a very long time to answer all their questions, but it feels even longer once they leave me alone in the waiting room.
Jack disappears, which I’m not surprised by, and I think I must zone out because the next time I’m aware of my surroundings, a nurse is standing in front of me and showing me the way to the ward.
It’s quieter than I expected, even though it’s visiting hours.
Many of the beds have curtains drawn around them for privacy, but I can hear people talking on the other side, and I find myself absurdly grateful that she’s not in a room by herself.
I know she’d prefer to be alone, but I’m desperate for her to be around people.
To know that if I can’t always have eyes on her, other people do.
I’m led to the last bed in the room, one underneath a small window where my grandmother sits, propped up by a mound of pillows, waiting for me.
Despite my concern for her, I’ve never thought of Granny as frail before. Not once. She made up for her diminishing strength with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue, and had always seemed larger than life to me.
But she looks frail now. Frail and tired and very, very small.
“Nice to see you’ve made an effort for once.”
I glance down at myself, almost surprised to see the pink skirts billowing over my knees. I’d forgotten I was still wearing the dress.
“You should have changed,” Granny continues, sounding disapproving. “You’ve probably torn it.”
“That’s what you’re…I was in a rush to get here,” I protest. “Because I was saving your life.”
She just huffs. “I wasn’t going to die.”
“You fell! You could have hit your head!”
“But I didn’t.” She’s still looking askance at the dress. “You’ll need to get that dry cleaned, you know.”
“I know,” I mutter, suddenly horribly aware of the thing. I must look like I stepped out of Carrie or something. I adjust the straps and take a seat in the chair beside the bed, placing the jumbo crossword book I got her in the gift shop on the nightstand.
Granny doesn’t even spare it a glance. “Are you alright?”
“Am I alright? You’re literally lying in a hospital bed.” I scoot closer, feeling less worried and more annoyed as each second passes. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” she says, but she looks a little embarrassed. “It was my own fault. Susan left and I was getting Plankton his breakfast. I was only wearing my slippers and I slipped and fell. It happens.”
“It shouldn’t happen.” The last time it did happen, Granny hurt her hip so badly that she almost needed to get it replaced. “I should have been there.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I should have,” I say. “Blackouts are dangerous.”
“It happened in the morning,” she huffs. “It was broad daylight, and I slipped on the kitchen floor. I’m an old woman. It happens . I’m alright now, aren’t I?”
She is. But what would have happened if I hadn’t swung by the house first? What would have happened if Callum and I had gone straight to Kelly’s or decided to stay longer at his? She could have been lying there for hours with no one to help her.
Just the thought of it makes my eyes sting and Granny sighs at the sight, reaching for my hand.
“You can’t look after me twenty-four hours of the day,” she says, her voice softening. “In fact, I don’t want you to. We’d kill each other.”
“We’ve managed so far,” I say. “And we could always—”
“ Katie .” She squeezes my fingers, looking exasperated. “You know this isn’t your fault, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
But I must sound as unsure as I feel, because she just looks at me for a long moment before shaking her head. “Sometimes, I think I should have encouraged you to leave more when you were younger,” she says. “Kicked you out of the house and packed you off to college whether you wanted to or not.”
“You don’t want me living with you?”
“Of course I do. Don’t be ridiculous. But I know how much you’ve had to take on in the last few years. And I know how much I’ve let you. I don’t intend to leave this life anytime soon, but the last thing I want for you is to spend the best years of yours worrying about me every moment.”
“I don’t do that.”
“Don’t you?”
I fall silent.
She’s been there for me since my parents died and she’s supposed to stay forever.
And every time something like this happens, every time a task that once came easy to her becomes too difficult, every time we get instructions for new medication and new ways to live, it kills me a little inside.
I didn’t realize how long I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen. And how unprepared I still was for it.
“It’s not your job to look after everyone,” she says, when I don’t respond. “Between me and the pub and your friends it’s a miracle you’re still standing most days.”
“You sound like Gemma now.”
“Well, a word of advice, Katie. If a single working mother says you’re doing too much, you should probably listen.”
“You’re not too much,” I chastise. “I like looking after you. I want to look after you. I love you.”
“I know you do,” she says, squeezing my hand again. “And I love you more than you can possibly imagine.”
“So stop talking like you’re—”
“Just let me get this out,” she says with the same you’re giving me a headache look I remember from my childhood. Even now, it shuts me up.
“I never expected to raise another child,” she says finally.
“And I’m still not sure how I didn’t mess this up.
How I didn’t mess you up. Even when you were a teenager you were as good as gold.
To the point where I almost wanted you to rebel, just to see what you’d do.
I know how lucky I am to have you. I’m grateful every day for it, and I’m so proud of you.
So proud. But…” She pauses then, her eyes growing damp.
“But I know,” she continues, a little more slowly.
“That that pride would pale in comparison to how your parents would feel if they could see you now.”
“Granny,” I begin, and she shushes me, putting her other hand on top of our clasped ones.
“They loved you very much,” she says. “So much it terrified them at the start. And I wish they could have seen how you’ve grown.
I wish they got a chance to meet the exceptional young woman you turned out to be.
You are hardworking, and generous, and you care deeply.
I know you do. But life moves faster than you think.
One day you might have a family of your own and you’ll have to put them first. So right now, I want you to make time for you.
I want you to make choices for you. For what you want.
No matter if that’s staying right where you are or traveling the world.
I want you to be selfish because I know you can do that without being cruel.
I want you to be happy. That’s all I want in the whole world, Katie.
For you to look me in the eye and tell me you’re happy. ”
“I am.”
“But do you mean it?”
“ Yes ,” I say. “I promise you. I promise that I’m happy. I promise I’m right where I need to be. Where I want to be.”
She relaxes as I say the words, knowing I’m telling the truth. “Good,” she says. “That’s good.”
“You sounded like you were saying goodbye,” I accuse, and she scoffs.
“I have a few years left me in yet,” she says. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”
She lets go of my hand, sniffing dramatically as she nods her head to the crossword book. “Well, pass me that. Might as well do something to pass the time here.”
“As if you wouldn’t be doing the exact same thing at home,” I tell her and spend the next while dutifully reading out the clues and filling in the answers as she gets every single one right.
* * *
The nurse tells me it will be a while before I get an update and Granny grows tired, so I leave her to rest and head back to the waiting room, only to stop dead in the entrance.
Jack Doyle sits on the far side, his elbows propped on his knees, his head in his hands as he slowly rubs his face as though trying to wake himself up.
I am more than surprised to see him there. As grateful as I am for what he did, I thought when he disappeared earlier that he had left, having fulfilled his Good Samaritan duty. But instead, here he sits, waiting for me.
Before I can think twice about it, I fill two cups with water from the fountain and walk right over to him.
“Hi.”