“Got it,” I reply, the heaviness in my chest lifting a little. Cameron is giving me a slice of freedom, and I won’t let him down. I’ll be good.
With a kiss to the forehead, he lets me leave, and I all but skip from the house. I take the short bus ride to the hospital downtown, my new jacket keeping me warm as I walk from the bus to the hospital entrance.
Just like last time, I wait up front for someone to come and get me. When the same guy from last time greets me, I can’t help but frown, even though he smiles.
“Good to see you, your grandma is doing so much better now,” he explains, and my mood brightens up in seconds.
“She is?” I ask, almost scared he is just being a sarcastic asshole.
“Yes, follow me. She has been asking about you non-stop.” He leads me to the closed wing, and I follow eagerly. We head the same way as last time, but when we get to the room Grams was in, he continues walking.
“She got moved,” he explains before I can ask the question out loud.
“Where to?”
“A nicer room,” is all he offers in response. My heart skips a beat, Cameron kept his word, he must have done something to have her moved.
We turn the corner and walk through another door into a different corridor, and immediately I notice the difference between the two halls. The walls are painted a nice pastel color instead of the dreadful hospital white. There are pictures hanging on the walls, and even the doors and floors are nicer. In fact, the place feels and starts to look more homey.
“Right here, this one,” he stops and opens a door for me, and as soon as I stick my head inside, I see Grams. She is sitting on a rocking chair by the window, knitting something. She looks up at me, and her whole face lights up. Instantly, I’m reminded of home, of how things used to be, and I wish I could turn back the clock and be there that day, instead of out job searching.
“Stella, there you are.” She smiles widely.
I all but run to her, closing the distance between us in three long strides. Wrapping my arms around her, I bury my face into the crook of her neck. Even in this place, her scent hasn’t changed. She still smells like lilacs, like my Grams. Her slender arms come around me, and she pats me gently on the back. When I pull away, I study her face to see if she’s fully here this time.
“I missed you, Grams,” I tell her wholeheartedly.
“No reason to miss me, child. I’m right here,” she smiles, all the heartache from last time I was here forgotten. The image of Grams tied to the bed is banished from my mind for good. I refuse to think about her in that situation.
We spend the next hour simply sitting together, enjoying each other’s company. We talk a little, but most of the time, I just watch her knit. It seems to be therapeutic for both of us. I’m so relaxed and zoned out I almost don’t notice when my phone starts buzzing in my pocket.
I pull it out and read the text that appears on the screen.
Katie: Want to meet up for coffee and catch up?
Staring at the screen for a long second, I contemplated my response. The idea of hanging out with someone other than Easton, Cam, or even Grams is tempting. I haven’t had a friend to talk to in a long time, and god knows I could use one now.
My fingers hover over the buttons as I imagine myself typing out a yes response. Cam and Easton wouldn’t mind, would they? It’s just coffee, and we are over the whole trust issue, right?
“What’s eating you?” Grams asks out of nowhere, not even looking up from her knitting.
“Oh, nothing, just worried about you. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to visit much.”
“You can stay, sweetie, you don’t have to go to school today, right?” Once again, I’m reminded that Grams is still lost in the past, and I’ll never be able to reach her there. I’m moving forward, and she’s forever stuck in the past.
“I have to go, but I’ll be back soon. I promise.” Grams doesn’t even frown, in fact, she smiles. Before I give her a hug, I type out a response to Katie, asking if she wants to meet up at the coffee place around the corner.
Giving Grams a hug, I shove my phone back into my pocket and give her a tiny wave. As I walk out of the hospital, I realize that for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel guilty leaving Grams alone. Because she isn’t alone. She is taken care of now, and that alone is a huge burden off my chest. I hate thinking about it that way because she isn’t supposed to be a burden, and she isn’t.