Harsh Pink with Bonus Content (15 page)

“You have to?” I feel myself frowning now, getting impatient.

She nods. “I have to go. I’m sorry. Can you have the barbecue some other weekend?”

“No.” Okay, now I’m getting mad. I can’t believe I came over here and begged and groveled and now Andrea is saying no.

“I really am sorry, Reagan. If I could do this for you, I would.”

“But what about all that stuff you said about God and Jesus?” I demand. “You said Jesus wanted you to love Nana — and how she was old and sick and everything — and you’re not even willing to do this?” Okay, I know I’m being totally unreasonable and I can’t believe how selfish I sound. But I’m desperate.

“Jesus wants me to love the middle-school kids too,” she says calmly. “And that was a previous commitment. I can love Ruth during the week and — ”

“But I need you on
Saturday
.”

“I can’t help you, Reagan.”

I stand now. I want to scream at her, but I know that’s crazy, not to mention pointless and rude. “Thanks a lot,” I say in flat voice.

“So you didn’t mean anything you said?” I can hear the hurt in her voice. “It was all just to get what you wanted from me?”

“What?”

“That whole nice act was just so you could use me?” I don’t say anything.

She waves her hand as if to dismiss everything. “It’s okay. It’s what I should expect. It’s just too bad, Reagan.”

“What’s too bad?”

“That you’re becoming like them.”

“Them? Who?”

“You know, the mean girls. The ones who will say and do anything to get what they want. For some reason I thought you were different.” She shakes her head like she’s sorry for me.
Sorry for me!
“But it’s okay,” she continues. “I suppose you can’t help it.”

Now, this just really makes me mad, like she thinks she’s superior to me. “You don’t know the first thing about it,” I snap. “Or me. Your life is nothing like mine and I can’t expect you to understand how it is to be — to be
popular
”

She sort of laughs now. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Reagan. But then, you haven’t known me that long. The truth is, I used to be one of those girls — a
mean
girl — and I know what it’s about … the games they play … the users walking all over the losers. But then I found a better way. And nothing, not a thing, could entice me to go back to that.”

I narrow my eyes and give her a look that’s meant to convey I don’t believe her. No way could Andrea Lynch ever have been popular. She is a geek. A total and complete geek. Not only is she a geek, but she must be delusional too. Poor thing. If I wasn’t so angry I’d feel sorry for her.

“I’ll be praying for you,” she says as I head for the door.

“Don’t bother,” I say in a snooty tone.

“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t mind.”

What is wrong with this girl? Is she totally nuts or what? “And don’t bother coming to see my grandmother anymore either.”

“Why not?”

I turn around and look at her now. “Because I don’t think I like the kind of influence you might have on her. I think you’re some kind of weird religious fanatic and you’re probably trying to convert her to some crazy religion. And I don’t think that either my mom or I would appreciate it. So stay away from her.”

She blinks and looks hurt. I do not care. I do not freaking care. I walk through her house and past her mom, who looks slightly stunned and I’m sure has been listening. I walk out the door and back to my house, promising myself to never speak to that lunatic again. Some people!

“Where’ve you been?” Mom asks me once I’m in the house.

“Nowhere.”

“Well, do you plan to be home today?”

“Why?”

“Because I’d like to go out.”

I remember my plans to hang with Kendra, but I don’t mention it. “I don’t know why you think someone needs to be here with Nana on the weekends. She’s by herself all day on the weekdays, what’s the — ”

“That’s exactly why I think she needs someone here, Reagan. Because she’s alone the rest of the week. It seems the least we can do is spend time with her on the weekends.”

“I do spend time with her. But do I have to spend every waking minute with her?”

“No, of course not. I just wondered if you’d be around.”

“Well, I was going to get some paper plates and things for the barbecue next weekend.”

“That shouldn’t take long.”

“No …”

“And you’ll be home after that?”

“Yes.”

“So, no problem.”

“Right. No problem.”

She smiles now. “I have to say, Reagan, I’m really proud of how you’re helping out around here. The house has been so clean every evening when I get home. Nana seems to be in good spirits. I think you were right about keeping her home with us.” Then she opens her purse and hands me some money. “Use this for your barbecue things, sweetie.”

I thank her and don’t bother to mention that I’ve had help. No way am I going to tell her how Andrea Lynch has been popping in this week on her little mission of mercy. If Mom wants to think it was all my doing, well, fine. After this, it will be all my doing. Suddenly I wish I hadn’t spouted off to Andrea like that. What was I thinking?

I put Nana’s lunch in the fridge, turn on the country music channel, lock the doors, and tell her to be good.

She grins. “I’m always good, Reagan.”

I nod. “Well, stay out of trouble then.” I set the cordless phone by her and remind her which button to push if she needs me. My cell phone number is on speed dial and I’ve painted the number with red fingernail polish. Even so, I’m not sure she can remember how to do it.

I feel a little guilty as I ride off in Kendra’s convertible. But not for long. Soon we are laughing and talking and I am actually having fun. Maybe because Sally and Meredith aren’t with us. I put thoughts of stupid Andrea Lynch behind me. I put thoughts about Nana and what she might or might not do today behind me. Today is a day for fun.

And we have fun. Kendra is great at planning a party, and after we get all that stuff, we head over to the mall, where I help her spend a lot of money at Nordstrom. I buy a shirt just to have something to carry around, so I won’t look like a loser. Then we go to a new shoe store that carries some exclusive designers, and Kendra buys an awesome pair of red heels by Christian Dior. She plans to wear them for homecoming, since she’ll be in the court.

“What are you wearing with them?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s not like it’s a big deal. I’ll probably just throw something together at the last minute.” I act like I get that, but the truth is, I don’t. Still, I don’t want to look stupid. After that, we stop for a coffee and I notice that it’s nearly five. I tell Kendra that I should head for home. She’s reluctant, but I insist.

“Want to catch a movie tonight?” she asks as she pulls into my driveway. “Or do you have a big date?”

I laugh. “A big date? Who with?”

“Well, I’ve seen Jonathan looking at you lately. And he sure seems to like tossing you in the air at practice.”

“Probably because I’m the lightweight of the bunch. And Jonathan’s the smallest of the guys.”

“But he’s smart.”

I nod. “And he’s nice.”

“He thinks you’re nice too.”

“Really?”

She nods. “I’m sure of it. And now that I think about it, Jonathan is fairly good friends with Logan. Maybe we could double with them sometime.”

“Cool.”

“In the meantime, we could catch a chick flick tonight.”

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

I feel incredibly happy as I walk toward the house. This feels like life is supposed to feel when you’re sixteen and in high school — at least the way I imagine it’s supposed to feel. In some ways, my life has never been what I’d call
normal
, although I aspire to it constantly. But today was good. Very good. And I feel relaxed and happy.

These feelings evaporate as soon as I open the door. I see a moccasin in the entry and then Nana, in her pink sweats, sprawled across the hardwood floor, lying flat on her back, eyes closed, not moving.

“Nana!” I scream as I run to her side. “Nana!”

N
ANA DOESN’T ANSWER
. I
FALL DOWN TO MY KNEES AND PUT MY FACE DOWN
close to hers, touching her forehead with my fingertips. It’s still warm. I put my cheek next to her nose. She’s still breathing.

“Nana?” I say more quietly. “Can you hear me?”

She groans softly, then her papery eyelids flutter open. “Reagan?”

“Are you okay?”

“Fell down.”

“I see that.” I try to remember first aid now. You’re supposed to keep them warm. “Stay here,” I say, knowing that she’s going nowhere. I run and get her blanket and lay it over her. I want to ask her when it happened, how long she’s been like this, but I know it’s pointless. Time is a concept outside of her grasp these days.

“Did you hurt anything?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

She moves her hand down and pats her leg. “Here. Hurts here.”

“Okay. Just relax and I’m going to call someone.” I walk over to where the cordless phone is still on the table next to her pink chair, pick it up, and call 911. The dispatcher lady takes my information and soothingly talks to me as I wait for the ambulance to arrive. I follow the ambulance to the hospital. It’s not until I’m in the ER with Nana that I think to call my mom. I dial her cell phone number and hold my breath as I listen to it ring. She picks up on the third one.

“Reagan?” she says, obviously checking her caller ID.

“Nana fell down,” I say simply. “She slipped on the hardwood floor. I think she may have broken something. We’re in the ER right now and she’s about to get an X ray.”

“Oh no.”

“She’s totally conscious and seems to be in good spirits, considering.”

“I’m so glad you were there with her, Reagan.” “I should go, Mom. She’s asking a question and no one’s in the room right now but me.”

“Yes, go and be with her. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes, okay?”

“That’s fine, Mom.”

“That’s as soon as I can get there.”

“Really, Mom. Everything’s under control. Drive safely.”

Then we hang up. And I am so relieved that she’s not mad at me. Not yet anyway. I don’t want to tell her that I was gone when Nana fell. I don’t want her to get angry at me for having been out all day. I’m fully aware that this accident might not have happened if I’d been home sooner. Even so, I’m not sure I can admit this to Mom. Besides, what good would it do? It wouldn’t change anything.

Nana’s getting her X ray done when Mom gets there. “She should be back in a few minutes,” I say.

“Was she in much pain?”

“I think it was hurting pretty bad,” I admit, trying not to remember her sobs when they loaded her on the gurney. She didn’t understand what was going on. I tried to explain that they were helping her, but she thought they were hurting her and wanted them to stop.

“Poor Mother.”

“But the doctor gave her something for the pain when she got to the ER. I think she was feeling better before they took her to the X-ray room.”

“Did you tell them she has Alzheimer’s?”

“I filled out the paperwork when I got here, but I forgot to put it on there. But I did tell the receptionist that Nana has some memory problems and that it’s probably Alzheimer’s.”

“Probably?”

“Okay, most likely.”

“Sometimes it’s better to just accept the facts, Reagan.”

I sigh and look down at my lap.

Mom actually puts an arm around me then. “I’m sorry. I should be thanking you for handling everything so well.”

Okay, this is nice, but it makes me feel even more guilty. This might not have happened if I’d stayed home. I’m almost tempted to confess the whole thing. But not yet.

It turns out that Nana has broken her pelvic bone. “It’s a painful place to break a bone,” the doctor explains, “because it’s so integral to all body movements. Whether it’s walking, sitting, standing, bending, lying down, using the toilet — you name the activity and the pelvic bone is probably involved.”