“Wait here, I’ll find someone,” I say and head down a hallway until I find a security guard. He speaks into his walkie-talkie, and informs me someone will help us shortly.
A volunteer is already helping Jo when I step up next to her. The worker tells us the floor and room number, pointing to the elevators at the end of the hall.
“Is there a waiting area in that wing?” I ask.
The volunteer tells me where to find it, and Jo and I walk to the elevators, silently waiting for the doors to slide open. We step on and Jo punches the button for the third floor. Before we part ways, I pull her in for a quick hug.
“I’ll be in the waiting area if you need anything. I’m not going anywhere.”
Jo nods and heads down the hallway toward her grandmother’s room while I head to the waiting area, sliding out my phone to let Penny know what’s going on so she can fill Lisa in. I don’tknow how long Jo and I will be here, but the least I can do is make sure Abby and Jay are taken care of.
There’s a bookcase full of books on one wall, with the wordsLending Librarywritten in Sharpie on a piece of cardstock taped above the shelf. Feeling restless, I stand to peruse the shelves. My eyes land on a worn copy ofA Farewell to Arms. It’s not the edition I have, the very one I tore from to write a note to Jo, but I grab it from the shelf and sit to immerse myself in the familiarity of the story.
“Mawmaw?” Tapping the door lightly, I slowly push it open, whispering her name. My grandmother is dozing, so I tiptoe in, careful not to wake her.
She looks so thin and frail in the hospital bed. The gown swallows her whole, the neck hanging so one of her shoulders is exposed. Always such a light sleeper, when I straighten it, she stirs, raising her head to peer up at me. A purple bruise is already forming on her cheek—I guess from her fall.
“Josephine,” she says, recognition lighting up her eyes. My name coming from her lips is such a relief, I almost feel lightheaded from it. This situation would have been much more difficult had she not recognized me, harder to explain if she mistook me for her sister, or worse a complete stranger.
“Hey there, Mawmaw. Sounds like you took a tumble, yeah?” She reaches out from the blanket, taking my hand in hers. Her skin is freezing, so I pull the blankets up further, tucking them in around her.
“Craziest thing. I was sound asleep when I heard pecking on my window. I thought for sure it was finally those hummingbirds, returning from their journey.” She’s on the hummingbirds again. I’m sure the pecking she heard was footsteps or eventyping on a computer, but in her confused mind I see how easily she could mistake it for pecking on her window.
“And you tripped on something?” I ask.
“That part’s a plum mystery, Josephine. One second I’m walking to the window, and the next I’m sprawled out on the floor, my elbow screaming in pain.”
I brush a fingertip against the bruising of her cheek. “Did you hit your face or your head? Looks like a nasty bruise you’ve got forming.”
Mawmaw shakes her head. “I-I honestly don’t remember falling. I only remember the pain in my elbow.”
“What did the doctor say? Do you remember if they’ve done any X-rays yet?”
The words are leaving my lips right as a light knock sounds at the door and a man in a white lab coat steps inside.
“Good evening.” He extends his hand and I take it. “I’m Dr. Russell.”
“Josie,” I say, introducing myself. “This is my grandmother, Martha.”
“Josie, when your grandmother fell she must have landed on her elbow.” He pulls out an X-ray, placing it on the screen. “See here, the bony point of her elbow has what’s called an Olecranon fracture. Fortunately, it’s not severe and will heal without surgical intervention. Because of your grandmother’s age and condition, I will need to put a cast on it, though. That’ll help ensure no further damage happens while the bone heals.
I look to my grandmother to see if she’s following everything the doctor said. She’s nodding her head, and relief washes over me once again that right now she’s here in the present with us.
“Is that okay, Mawmaw? The doctor needs to put a cast on your arm.”
Mawmaw’s eyes dart to mine, to the doctor, back to mine, and she nods.
“Yes, that’s fine. What about the bruise on her face? Did you notice that? I’m concerned she might have hit her head.”
The doctor walks to my grandmother’s bedside, inspecting her face. “I’ll order a CT scan to be sure.”
About that time a nurse steps in behind the doctor and they wheel my grandmother out and down the hallway. The adrenaline that’s been pumping through my veins the last hour is quickly crashing down around me, but tired though I may be, my brain can’t seem to slow down. I sink to the reclining chair, propping my feet up to wait on my grandmother’s return.
My mind can’t fully focus on any one thing, rather it ping-pongs from topic to topic, from my kids, to Tyler, to everything going on at school. Complete thoughts fail me, and I simply look around the room for at least an hour, maybe longer. Eventually, memories start bubbling up like Polaroid snapshots developing in slow motion. Ones I haven’t thought about in years.
Mawmaw took care of me and my brother after she’d already raised her own kids, which was no easy feat. My brother and I were both a handful, but she did her very best with us. She bought me watermelon bubble gum every Saturday when she did her grocery shopping, and always had the funny papers laid out for me when I’d eat my morning cereal. She even taught me to ride a bike. I get my love of books from her, from nights of her baking apple turnovers and plopping us down to watchLittle WomenorAnne of Green Gables. Gilbert Blythe was my first crush, and I told her this after requesting to watch it a third time.
When we weren’t watching movies, we’d stretch out on the couch, her at one end and me at the other, and silently read while my brother built Legos on the floor. She always had an Amish romance while I lost myself in Sweet Valley High.
