I’m out of bed before I can think, my heart racing as I throw on the first clothes I can find. Not Nonna. Not yet. I am not ready.
I yank my jacket off the chair, grab my keys, and head out the door. As I pass through the living room, I pause, caught off guard by last night’s wreckage—the empty carton of Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked on the coffee table, two spoons still sticking out.
Axe. The warmth of our time together washes over me. How our evening stretched into the small hours, luxurious and slow, the electricity between us reset to a slow burn no matter how badly my body longed for his. At some point, we DoorDashed the ice cream and ate it together on the couch, our legs braided together so innocently, talking about everything and nothing until the night grew soft and still. Eventually, we fell asleep curled against each other, withNotting Hillplaying on the screen, the strength of Axe’s presence wrapping me up like a blanket.
Axe left only after we’d both drifted off. He scooped me up and placed me on my bed, and I can still feel the print of the kiss, gentle and lingering, that he gave me just before he slipped out the door.
Where are you, Josie!? I need you!!
I hurry out the door, the Mini’s keys jingling in my hand. No time to take a chance on Gertrude. Shelton General isn’t far, but Mom’s texts make it sound like every second counts.
The sliding doors whoosh open as I rush into the sterile, brightly lit lobby and then into the elevator to the ICU. A nurse at the desk glances up, clearly expecting me.
“I’m here for Rosa Greene,” I say.
“This way,” she says, moving fast, as if she already knows I’m running out of time. My feet feel like they’re moving underwater.Down the hall, we stop at a door that’s slightly ajar, and the nurse leaves me, gesturing that I should go in.
I gasp when I see Nonna lying in the hospital bed, her skin sallow under the harsh hospital lights. Her breathing is shallow, wheezy. Tubes from her arms connect to machines that beep in steady rhythm.
Mom is perched on a chair beside the bed, her eyelashes clumped together and hanging like crushed spiders, her hair looking as disheveled as I’ve ever seen it. When she sees me, relief washes over her face.
“Oh, Josie! Thank goodness you’re here!” She rushes over, pulling me into a grip like a chokehold. “I didn’t know if you’d make it before…”
She lets her sentence hang there.
“What happened?” I pull back, trying to get a read on her. Mom is nearly shaking with anxiety, her eyes darting around the room like a startled bird, and as always, there’s that edge of manic energy thrumming just beneath the surface.
I think about what I said to Axe last night, how sometimes you can’t see what’s right in front of you. I did that with Bryan—I was blind to his faults because I was desperate for freedom. And I’ve done it my whole life with Mom, refusing to notice her rabid, belligerent anxiety because I was taught that it was the same thing as love.
“She’s been failing for weeks, not that you’d know,” Mom says. Classic passive-aggressive jab. “Last night…last night she told me it was her time. She insisted that I bring her a huckleberry pie from Shelton Farms. We shared a slice, just the two of us, just like we used to when I was young and Harry was still alive. She seemed happy when I left. But then, an hour later, I got the call to come back.” Her voice breaks, and she dabs her eyes with hersleeve. “I think…I think she knew this would be the last time. She wanted to say goodbye tome.”
I nod, absorbing my mother’s need to make it all about herself in this moment of extreme crisis, and I shove any reaction aside. Now is not the time to remind my mother that Nonna was never a fan.
I want Mom to go—I need her to go—as far away from Nonna and me as possible. “Mom, why don’t you step out and get some air?” I suggest softly, coaxing her with a press of my hand on her cheek and a reassuring smile. “You’ve been here for hours, holding everything together like you always do. Let me take over for a while.”
“I don’t know. You need me.”
“Remember what the doctors always say? Caretakers need care, too. You’ve been a superhero! Give yourself a break.”
She hesitates, then nods. “Maybe that’s a good idea, sweetie. I’ll be back soon.” She kisses Nonna’s forehead, smoothing back her silver hair, then gives a final, teary glance before leaving the room.
And the Oscar goes to…MamaBearSharon. You fucking phony.
The thought is so angry and intrusive it shocks me.
Is that what I really think?
Once the room is quiet, I pull the now-empty chair closer to Nonna’s bed and sit down, gently taking her frail, bony hand in mine. Her eyes are closed, her breathing so light I have to strain to hear it. I sit for a few minutes, listening to the rhythm of the machines, willing her to wake up—will she ever?
When her eyes finally flutter open, I feel a shot of relief that quickly twists into panic.
Nonna’s gaze is unfocused, clouded over, as if she’s staring straight into a void.
“Nonna, it’s me, Josie,” I whisper.
Her lips move, but the words are too soft to make out. I lean in closer.
“The cards,” she breathes, and I know exactly what she wants me to do.
