“’Cause you’re deflectin’.”
“You’re deflectin’!”
“Don’t you raise your voice at me,” Grams hisses on a stern finger point. “I’ll rip these cords out and use ‘em to tan your hide right here, right now.”
“Could you jus’ tell me what’s goin’ on instead?” I exhaustedly exhale. “Please?”
“Alright,” she surrenders leading Gilly to scoot back to stand beside me. “But be warned. You ain’t gonna like it.”
“Of course, I ain’t gonna like it, Grams. You’re lyin’ in a hospital bed with tubes in your nose.”
“They jus’ fo’ show.”
“Grams.”
“Fine.” She pensively places one hand on her stomach and the other on top of it. “I was diagnosed with COPD.”
“COPD?”
“This lung disease thing that means I have trouble breathin’.”
Concern crinkles my face. “Wh-wh-when did that happen?”
“Earlier this year.”
“This year?!”
“What did I jus’ say about your volume?”
Swallowing down the urge to shout immediately grows in difficulty; however, having Gillybean’s hand supportively plant itself on my shoulder makes it a bit easier.
Like having a defenseman actually do his job near the crease.
Once my composure is at a more manageable level, I ask, “How much earlier this year?”
“Start of it.”
“And now we’re at theendof it, Grams.”
“I am well aware of how time works, Thayne.”
“Then please tell me why I’ve beenunawareall year about this disease you’ve apparently had.”
“’Cause I didn’t want you to know.”
“What?! Why?!”
“”Cause I wanted you to live your life and not worry about what’s left of mine.”
“Grams.”
“Doc said it was stage two meanin’ I’d be dealin’ with some shortness of breath and bit of tiredness and maybe some liftin’ issues-”
“Your cough…” My eyebrows dart to the ceiling. “That steady cough you kept blamin’ on allergies? Was that part of this?”
“He might’ve mentioned that could happen.”
There’s no stopping my head from slowly shaking.
