24. Then Five Years Ago
Chapter 24
Then: Five Years Ago
I ’m putting away groceries when my phone vibrates on the counter. Shuffling the chicken to my right hand, I shift my phone to my left ear and push play. “Hey, Nana.”
“Morning, Katie girl,” she says. I can tell she’s on speaker.
“I was just about to call you. What time are y’all getting here?” I put the chicken in the fridge and grab the strawberries.
“Slight change of plans.” Nana’s voice drops.
I let go of the strawberries. “Is everything okay?”
“Well …”
Pop interrupts. “It’s fine, sweetie, all good. We need to postpone a bit, is all.”
A loudspeaker echoes in the background, the words indistinct. Nana whispers she’ll call me back.
Despite the rushed tone and the change of plans, the thing I get held up on is Pop saying it’s fine. If it was fine, he would’ve said everything’s ‘miserable as usual’ in his normal cheerful way …
A nagging feeling lingers through the night, especially when Nana doesn’t call back, my gut pushing me to uncover what’s going on. Where are they? What’s happening? Why is there a loudspeaker?
I try calling Mama to see if she’ll tell me anything but it goes straight to voicemail.
Something’s off.
I want to be there with them, but I can’t. I can’t risk seeing my dad and having him yell, scream, and carry on.
I can’t see Jase and Lindsay . It’d be too much. I still think about him. Them. What their life must be like. Is it everything they’ve always wanted? Does he ever think about me? Or were we always destined to be a thousand miles apart?
By three a.m., I can’t take it anymore. I start Lily’s engine, but I can’t put her into drive. What would I even do in Sloane? Would I head right to Sloane Memorial and wander through prison-like walls with grimy lights until I find a hospital bed with Pop’s name on it? What if I see Dad or Jase instead? Would it be worth the drive, worth the heartache?
I can’t.
I dial Nana, and she picks up instantly. “Katie girl!” she feigns excitement, but it’s there, the speaker in the background, again.
“Hey, Nan. Wanted to check in.”
“Oh, we’re good, sweetie. Nothing to worry about. Can I give you a call back, though?”
“Sure.” There is something to worry about. I can feel it in my bones. She doesn’t want to tell me.
I try Mama again. This time, she picks up.
“Hey, Kate, I can’t really talk right now. Can I call you back?”
“Mama …what’s going on with Pop? I know something’s wrong.”
She sighs. “Hold on.” A loud door closes on the other end of the phone. There are footsteps before she says, “Okay. Please don’t worry. It’ll all be fine. Your granddaddy was diagnosed with liver cancer. He’s been going to treatments, and everything’s been looking good. He fell walking around Walmart yesterday. He’s with a doctor to make sure he’s okay.”
I barely hear what she says after cancer. Pop, who’s always been larger than life, who’s been here for every birthday, Christmas, and moved in to help wrangle Dad. Who’s here to help him?
“Kate?” Mama asks, but I hang up.
The lump in my throat hardens, but I don’t let the tears fall, go back inside, or answer when Mama or Nana try to reach me. Answering would make it real, and it can’t be real. It can’t be. He’s the strongest person I know, the only man remaining in my life.
The one who stayed.
This was all a dream. It didn’t happen. I didn’t go. I didn’t hear. He’s fine.
When Nana and Pop come visit a few weeks later, I keep up the charade until I can convince myself it was never real at all.