16 McKenna #3
control here, while also knowing that this is just one more place where we’re at the mercy of something bigger.
“Look,” she says as she sits. “This thing is coming at us whether we like it or not. You had to grow up much faster than most
kids your age back when your mom was sick, and now it’s time for you to do it again. We both know I’m having fewer lucid days.
We need to be practical and discuss some of these things.”
Obviously, she’s right. I’m aware that eventually I’ll be entirely on my own, but the finances aren’t what’s scaring me. We’ve
always figured out how to stretch a dollar, and from the many pages in the binder, it looks like she’s gone to great effort
to make sure I’ll be okay. But the idea of losing Glory—her fiery personality and no-holds-barred feedback—is a thought so
painful that I’m struggling to breathe.
There will be so many missing pieces in Life After Glory.
All the ways she’s made the days sweeter for me, suddenly just gone.
I think of the swimming scrapbook she’s kept since I was a little kid, chronicling all the articles from SwimSwam and Newsday with my name in them, or the little bud vase she leaves on my nightstand every summer, replenishing it with a single daisy
from her garden every week. The echo of my mother in the silly facial expression she makes when someone surprises her. Even
her habit of telling me the storylines from her soaps as cautionary tales—this is what I can’t face losing. She’s all that
remains of my family.
But I can see from the set of Glory’s shoulders that she won’t be easily swayed.
“Fine,” I say. “What do you think I need to know? And why did you make a whole entire binder to tell me what I’m sure can
be summed up in one or two sentences?”
“Hey now.” She fixes me with one of her signature stares. “You don’t spend the better part of four decades married to an insurance
adjuster and not make careful plans for your future.”
“Listen.” I rest the binder flat on my lap and lay a hand on top of it. “You’ve already made clear how I’m supposed to pay
the expenses for this place. Beyond that, my scholarship will cover my remaining room and board until I graduate, and I can
live at your house during the summers. I think I’m all set here.”
“Yeah?” Glory asks, and I can see the challenge in her eyes. “And how do you expect you’ll be paying for the yearly upkeep
of the house, especially when you’re not even using it?”
“Are you saying I shouldn’t keep the house?” The suggestion startles me, even though it has crossed my mind too. “I guess
I could rent an apartment during the summers. Or maybe there’s a way to stay in the dorms.”
“I’m not saying you should sell the house.
And I’m not saying you should keep it. I want you to do whatever is necessary to keep yourself comfortable as you move into your future as a nurse extraordinaire.
By no means should you feel obligated to keep that home as some sort of shrine. You understand?”
She waits for me to nod, making sure I understand she’s given me pre-authorization to do whatever I need.
“Why did you bring the binder here instead of just leaving it for me at the house?”
“Like I said, it needed some updating.”
Her words make me curious, and I finally do open the cover, just to take a quick look. Scanning a few pages, I see handwritten
notes jotted in different colors of ink all throughout the documents, and I feel a stinging behind my eyes. She’s trying to
make sure I’ll be okay without her, and somehow that makes me feel even lonelier. I’ve spent my life working hard to obtain
results, but no amount of discipline is going to help me change what I know is coming, and it breaks my heart.
But I won’t let on. Instead, I close the binder again, hiding from whatever awaits me. I place the whole compendium beside
my purse. “I will take excellent care of it,” I say. “But for now, I want to tell you about what happened with Leo and the
kids today.”
“Leo?” Glory makes a dismissive motion with her hand, as if she isn’t the least bit interested. “Forget Leo. I want to hear
more about the handsome brother.”
I scoff. “When did I ever say the brother was handsome?”
“I may be losing my memories, but my eyesight is just fine with these.” She taps the glasses she’s wearing. “Yup, there they
go!” She laughs and points a finger at me.
“There what go?” I ask, worried she’s losing her hold on reality again.
“Your cheeks are bright pink, my darling,” she answers, sounding just like herself. “One needn’t be in Mensa to figure out
why you’ve mentioned the fellow no less than three times in a week. Maybe you’d like to give big brother lessons too. A different
kind of lesson.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively at me.
“Glory!” I yelp, scandalized. “Stop it!” I laugh and then quickly look away. Right behind my mirth is a thorn of sorrow, the
sting of tears returning behind my nose. Glory has always had a way of knowing just what’s going on inside my head. It’s one
more reason why I’m going to miss her so damn much.