Winter's Tide (6 page)

I
couldn't wait to meet Jelly. As far as I could see, Jelly and the golf cart were the only good things about this whole awful trip. I started to unpack, keeping one ear open for the front door and the jingling of dog tags.

“I can't believe Mom took my phone,” I said to Stephanie as we put our things in the low chest of drawers against the wall.

Stephanie's dark hair swung forward as she leaned
over the drawer, arranging her shirts. She straightened and put her hair behind her ear, but she didn't answer me.

I couldn't stand thinking about the hospital. The smells and sounds in there drove me crazy. And all those sick people! Sick and weak. I thought about the way Grammy looked, and I shoved the image out of my mind. She'd been nice to me on the cruise, but I couldn't think about that. I just wanted to get away. If only Dad had let me come down to Florida. Somehow, tomorrow, when they went back to the hospital, I was going to have to get out of it. Maybe they'd let me stay home and take care of Jelly since Grammy asked me to.

“That's pretty weird that Grammy asked me to take care of Jelly,” I said to Stephanie while I was waiting to shove my jeans into one of the drawers.

Still no answer. Just careful folding and arranging her pink girly things. Well, fine, don't talk. I don't care.

The front door shut. Jelly must be here! I dumped the rest of my jeans and sweatshirts on my bed and ran out into the living room.

And there, with Norm, was a fat, little brown dog. He had the sweetest eyes, shiny and brown, in a Chihuahua face that looked like a seal's. And a long, low Dachshund body. As I skidded to a stop and knelt to pet him, he let out a growl.

“Watch it, Diana!” Norm started.

Before I could draw back, Jelly nipped at my hand with his sharp little teeth.

“Whoa!” I backed away, but Jelly still sat there with one paw up, his ears laid back, and his lip curled. The canine tooth showing was curved and yellow.

Mom was right behind me. “Be careful, Diana. He doesn't like you.”

Doesn't like me? Since when did a dog not like me? I sat down Indian style on the floor in front of him.

“Hey, what's the matter? I won't hurt you. I love dogs. See? I'm okay.” I held my hand out a few inches in front of his snout for him to sniff. He made a noise between a growl and a whine and snapped again, this time grazing the tip of my finger.

I yanked my hand back, rubbing my finger, tears springing to my eyes.

What was this all about? I didn't get it. Animals always liked me. That was what I lived for, animals gathering around me and giving me their unconditional love. What was going on?

“I tried to warn you about him,” Norm said. “He likes things on his own terms.”

“Goodness, Diana,” said Mom. “Get away and give him a chance to adjust. Maybe you came on too strong.”

And then I heard Stephanie's voice behind me. “I just got a text from Mama. Matt woke up.”

“Oh, that's wonderful news!” Mom said. “What a relief! Did she say anything else about how he's doing?”

“Just that he's awake and in a lot of pain.”

“Poor boy,” Mom said.

“Yeah,” Stephanie said. I glanced at her, wondering if she was glad Matt was in pain.

Stephanie came and stood beside me and Jelly. “So Jelly doesn't like you, huh? He only likes Grammy. He adores Grammy.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “He just has to get used to me, that's all.”

With a dry chuckle, Norm hung the leash on its hook by the front door. “Good luck with that.”

I stood up, keeping my eye on Jelly. He watched me warily and gave another low warning growl. Then he wandered back to Grammy's bedroom and stood in the doorway, looking at her bed, which had Norm and Mom's suitcases on it, before turning to look at me. He waddled to the guest room and looked at Stephanie's and my stuff on the beds and floor, then looked at me again.

He wandered out into the hall, looked again at both doorways, and lay down.

“He can't figure out where Grammy is,” Stephanie said. She used a high voice to talk to him. “Poor Jelly. Grammy's in the hospital, Jelly. You have to be patient. We hope she'll be back soon, Jelly-belly.”

Jelly put his chin on his paws with a sigh, angling his brown eyes up at us in puzzlement.

“I wonder what it would be like to be an animal,” Mom said. “He doesn't know why Grammy is gone or if she will ever be back. All he knows is that he can't find her now.”

“I bet he understands more than we think,” I said. It made me feel depressed that Jelly didn't like me. But I wasn't going to give up on him. I would make him like me.

“Hey, can I take Jelly for a walk?” I asked Mom.

“I walked him on my way home from the neighbor's,” Norm said. “He's fine for now. Maybe you can take him tomorrow.”

“It's late. Let's get ready for bed, girls,” Mom said.

Stephanie quickly put on her pj's, crawled into the bed, and turned toward the wall with the covers practically over her head.

“What's wrong with you?” I said as I got out the old Heineken T-shirt of Dad's that I always slept in.

Stephanie didn't answer me. She just lay in bed.

“Fine,” I said. “Don't say anything. I didn't do
anything to you.” Her silent treatment was really annoying me.

Suddenly Stephanie sat up in bed, the covers bunched in her fists and tears streaking her cheeks. “What do you think is wrong? Grammy is sick, okay? And I love her! You act like you don't even care!”

I could feel the heat surging to my face. “What do you mean? What am I supposed to do?”

“Act like a human being!” she shouted.

Her words hung in the air. I felt a painful lump rise in my throat and the corners of my eyes burned.

“Girls, girls!” Mom came to the doorway of our room. “The last couple of days have been really stressful.” Mom sat on Stephanie's bed and rubbed her foot through the covers. “We're so worried about Grammy and about Matt. We could say things that we regret. Let's try to calm down.”

“I didn't do anything! She's just mad at me because I'm not crying!” I said. Stephanie was the one who had yelled at me, and Mom was comforting her. Not to mention the fact that I'd been snapped at twice by that stupid dog. Sometimes I felt like the whole world was against me.

“Diana, Stephanie has had a really tough couple of days. Have some compassion for her,” Mom said. “Are you all right, honey?” she asked Stephanie.

Stephanie lay back down and pulled the covers over her shoulder, using the sheet to wipe her face. “I'll be okay,” she said.

Mom stroked her arm for a minute or two, and then kissed us both and went back into Grammy's bedroom. Her voice and Norm's hummed softly behind the closed door. I took my pill, turned out the light, and crawled into bed. On the other side of the room, Stephanie was silent. My mind raced from one thought to another. What did a human being do that I wasn't doing? I hadn't done anything wrong. I turned my pillow over and lay my cheek on the cool side.

Outside our room in the hall, Jelly was snoring.

T
he next day, the sea grasses outside the window to our bedroom bobbed in a brisk winter breeze, and the sand sparkled in the filtered sun. Grammy had told me she loved the beach in winter. She said the beaches were empty, and she liked being able to let Jelly run. The ocean and sky, she said, were moody and beautiful.

I thought about Grammy lying in the hospital, and suddenly the lovely mood and thoughts vanished, and
I felt my eyes begin to tear up again. I remembered the fight Diana and I had had the night before. I still couldn't see how she could be so unfeeling toward Grammy. I didn't want to be around her. Everything she said and did grated on my nerves.

“How far is the beach?” Diana asked Daddy as we sat around Grammy's counter eating cereal. “I want to take Jelly for a walk there. Then he'll like me.”

“Only a couple of blocks,” Daddy said. “I think Grammy normally drives her golf cart down there.”

“Ooh. Can I drive the golf cart and take Jelly for a walk?”

I felt like saying, “Grammy is in the hospital and all you can think about is how you want to walk the dog,” but I just concentrated on eating my cereal.

“Not this morning.” Daddy stood up, placing his napkin beside his plate. Of course Diana didn't even notice how different Daddy was acting since Grammy had gotten sick. He looked pale and drawn. He hardly saw us when he looked at us. “I need to get back to the hospital. They say the doctors usually come by mid-morning, and I want to be there to talk to them.”

“Norm,” Lynn said, “why don't I stay here with the girls while you go to the hospital?”

“But I want to go to the hospital,” I said. I wanted to be by Grammy's side and hold her hand.

Lynn looked at me and put her hand on top of mine. “Okay, honey.”

So it was decided that Daddy and I would go to the hospital and Lynn and Diana would stay at the apartment with Jelly. As I got ready to go, Diana lay on her bed watching me. I went through my clothes, trying to decide what to wear, but couldn't concentrate. I had a headache from crying so much last night. Just the decision of what to wear seemed overwhelming. And Diana watching me was getting on my nerves.

“You're still mad at me, aren't you?” Diana asked.

Sighing, I started to brush my hair. My usual response would be something polite like, “No, I'm not mad,” but I wanted Diana to know the truth. That's what sisters did. They told each other the truth. “Yes,” I said. “I'm mostly upset about Grammy. I've never seen her sick before, and it scares me. And I don't know why I expect you to be upset since you don't know her very well, but it makes me mad that you're not upset. And I feel guilty, because I felt so relieved to get out of going to the hospital to visit Matt. But if something terrible happens to him, it's going to be awful.” I put my hairbrush down on the dresser and gestured nervously. “I can't talk about it anymore now. Maybe later.”

I put on my coat, wrapped my pink scarf around my neck, and left her lying there.

“We'll call and let you know what the doctor says,” Daddy said as he kissed Lynn good-bye. “And then we'll come get you for visiting hours this afternoon.”

In the car on the way to the hospital, Daddy hardly talked. We had to drive across two bridges on our way, and each time, I looked down to watch the choppy, shifting whitecaps, thinking about how cold it must be. I didn't see any boats.

“I'm proud of you for wanting to come and be with Grammy,” Daddy said as we crossed the second bridge.

“How long will she have to stay in the hospital?” I said.

“I don't know,” Daddy said. “I hope we'll get answers to a lot of our questions from the doctors today.”

I remembered then the feeling of panic that I'd had in the elevator last night, thinking that Grammy might die. I wanted to ask Daddy if Grammy was going to die, but I was afraid to. As if he were reading my mind, he reached over and patted my leg.

“I know you're worried about Grammy and I am too. We have to assure ourselves that she is in good hands and is going to be all right.”

I nodded.

When we came to Grammy's room, a new nurse was efficiently changing a bag of fluids in Grammy's IV.
“Looks like you've got visitors, hon,” she said, adjusting the IV and patting Grammy's arm.

Lying against the pillow, Grammy looked small and pale. “Hi, sweetie,” she said. Her voice sounded weak. I took her hand in one of mine and lay my other hand over it.

“How are you feeling today, Mom?” Daddy asked.

“Pretty out of it,” Grammy said.

“We're feeding her intravenously until the inflammation around the pancreas goes down,” the nurse said. “And we're giving her antibiotics. Her doctor should be in a little later this morning.” She made a few notations on the sheet on her clipboard, and then, with a warm smile at me, hurried out of the room.

“How is Jelly doing?” Grammy asked. She closed her eyes as Daddy and I pulled two blue chairs up next to her. “I'm so worried about him. He's not used to me being gone overnight.”

“He was definitely wondering where you were last night,” Daddy said. ”

“Oh, my poor baby.”

“But guess what!” I said. “He tried to bite Diana!” Gosh, was I happy to announce that? Happy because Grammy had asked Diana to look after him?

Grammy's eyes went wide. “Oh no!”

“Twice! He didn't get her, though. They were only little nips.”

Grammy put her hand over her mouth. “That bad little dog! Was she teasing him or anything?”

“No, I just think she scared him. I'm sure he'll get used to her,” Daddy said.

I wanted to ask Grammy why she had asked Diana to look after Jelly instead of asking me, but I could tell she was still in a lot of pain, and I didn't want to upset her. Now wasn't a good time to ask.

“Norm, remember Patty, the dog we had when you were growing up?” Grammy asked. Her eyes were closed, but she had a faint smile.

“Boy, did I love that dog,” Daddy said. “I remember writing a poem to Patty when I was about ten. Let's see if I can remember it. ‘My dear dog, Patty. She is not a fatty …''' Daddy and I started laughing, and Grammy smiled at Daddy's terrible rhyme.

“But she was. Remember how fat she was?” Daddy added.

“That was the year I had a crush on Allison Rockwell,” Daddy said. “On the playground I used to flirt with her by running past her really fast.”

How funny to hear about my dad having an elementary school crush! I started thinking about how amazing it was that we were sitting here in Grammy's hospital room while Grammy was so sick, but we were still laughing.

Then Daddy and Grammy started coming up with more memories of Daddy's childhood, like the time he sledded down the hill at the golf course and cut his chin and the time he flooded the basement when he was washing his first car.

They kept telling stories until Grammy complained that laughing made her stomach hurt. About that time, a kind-faced woman with short, stylish gray hair in a white coat came in. A stethoscope was hanging around her neck.

“Hello, I'm Dr. Claiborne,” she said, shaking Daddy's hand.

“I'm Norm Verra, Mrs. Verra's son, and this is my daughter, Stephanie,” Daddy said.

“Hi, Stephanie,” she said. “What grade are you in?”

“Ninth,” I said.

“Oh, your first year of high school.”

“Right,” I said.

“It's great that you're here keeping your grandmother company. Mrs. Verra, how is the pain today? Are the pain meds helping?”

“Yes, it's a little better.” Grammy tried for a smile.

“Well, we'll keep up with that” She turned to Daddy. “Your mother has acute pancreatitis, or inflammation of the pancreas, which was brought on by the passing of a large gallstone. A gallstone is a deposit that forms
in the gallbladder, and when it passes out of the gallbladder, it can be very painful. This is a very serious condition. As soon as the inflammation has gone down, we'd like to do surgery to remove her gallbladder so this doesn't happen again. Meanwhile, she won't be able to eat anything; we'll have to feed her intravenously.”

“How long before the surgery?”

“That will be determined by how long it takes the pancreas to settle down. If all goes well, I would say in three or four days,” said Dr. Claiborne.

“And then how long will my recuperation be?” asked Grammy.

“Oh, we hope to be able to do laparoscopic surgery, where we only make a few small incisions, so you should be able to go home the same day or the next day,” said Dr. Claiborne.

“The same day!” Daddy said, amazed.

“Yes, hopefully. Let's see how things go,” said Dr. Claiborne. “Right now, let's keep working on getting that inflammation down. You're lucky we caught this when we did, Mrs. Verra. I'll be back to check on you later this afternoon. It was nice to meet you both,” she said on her way out.

“It's hard to believe I may be able to go home the same day as the surgery, considering the way I feel now,” said Grammy.

“Well, you should start feeling better soon,” Daddy said. “How about a nap?”

Grammy nodded, her eyes fluttering. “Okay. That sounds good.”

Daddy and I fluffed Grammy's pillow and straightened her covers, and then Daddy went out in the hall to call Lynn. I sat in the chair, watching Grammy sleep. Her breathing was slow and even, and her face looked trusting, like a little girl's. There was a faded blue stripe on her blanket. A transparent bag hung from a stand beside her and dripped slowly, one tiny drop at a time, through an IV into her arm.

It was sort of dark in her room, but shining from between the blinds, bright strips of sunshine played across the foot of her bed, so I knew it was sunny outside.

Listening to the rhythm of her breathing, I got out my phone and checked my text messages. Popping up among texts from Colleen and some of my other friends, I saw another text from Noah.

“How is your grandmother doing?” it said.

I'd decided that I wouldn't lead him on, but he was being really thoughtful, asking about Grammy. So I answered, telling him that she would have surgery in a few days.

And then I got a text from Mama. It said, “So far Matt has not regained movement in his left arm.”