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“Fine.” I stormed out of the room, ignoring her pleas.
How the fuck was I supposed to help her if she kept lying to me?
“Come on.” He followed me. “Some fresh air will do you good.”
Mr. Clarkson led me out of a side exit, the air a welcome reprieve from the anger and frustration burning in my chest.
“Your grandmother tells me you’re a senior at Darling Hill High.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Look, Zane, I get it. You want to protect her. And she wants to protect you. But it’s okay to ask for help, son. It’s—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I’m sorry.” He held up his hands. “Your grandmother’s disease is advancing. Soon she will need specialized care. Care you might not be in a position to give her.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I spat. “You think I don’t spend every minute of my life worrying about the day when I can no longer take care of her?”
“You’re young, Zane. Too young to shoulder such a big responsibility. There are care facilities—”
“No, it’s not what she wants. Not yet.”
“And I understand that, I do. But eventually, the time might come where you have to make some difficult decisions for her.”
Did he honestly think I didn’t know that?
I agonized over it. Every day of my life I asked myself these questions over and over. But the answer was always the same.
Not yet.
Not while I could still take care of her.
But he had a point. It was easy to become complacent now, while she still had most of her faculties. Easy to tell myself—each other—that we could manage. That we would be okay.
But what if she started falling more? Passing out? I had school. A job. The team. I couldn’t be home twenty-four seven, and even if I could, she wouldn’t want me there.
Hopelessness sat heavy in my chest, crushing my lungs. I leaned up against the wall, dropping my head back and inhaling a deep breath, letting it roll through me. Calm me a little.
“I want to connect you with a social worker—”
“We don’t need that,” I said.
“You might think that now. But what happens when your grandmother becomes unable to independently dress herself? Toilet, bathe? I know these are all things you’d rather not think about, Zane, but the fact of the matter is, her health is declining. It’s only going to continue to decline. Add in Miriam’s age and that increases the chance of other health-related issues. There are people and organizations out there who can help, but you’ve got to be willing to ask.”
“I…” I slid down the wall, dropping onto my ass, not caring that the ground was hard and cold. This was the reality I’d been putting off for as long as I could. Burying my head in the sand in hopes that we would be handed a miracle.
But the grim truth was, Grams wasn’t getting better—she was getting worse.
And the bottom line was there would come a day, where I wouldn’t be able to look after her on my own.
Celeste
Something was wrong.
I’d watched Zane rush down the hall and disappear into one of the rooms, but I hadn’t lingered. It felt rude to pry.
As I helped Lewis wipe down the kitchen counters and equipment, I couldn’t help but wonder if everything was okay. Zane’s grandmother was sick, and although I didn’t know much about how advanced her MS was, I still couldn’t imagine what it was like for him.
