She took off her last cardigan, patted her chest, and cleared her throat. “Now I know the beauty of Second Chance Bookshop is that it brings life to old books and brings them to a new home. I love that, and I’d like to think of myself as an old book of sorts,” Joanna said as I walked with a glass of water and napkins over to the stage. I sat them down on the table beside her chair. She thanked me before grabbing a napkin to pat her forehead.
She continued speaking. “You see, I’m seventy years old, which is pretty old. And I have a few weathered pages of my own. Life has tossed me a million ups and downs. From a successful, rewarding career as a teacher to the heartbreaking passing of my dear husband. And now, I’m standing here as something old with something new,” she said gesturing toward her newborn book.
Her beautiful baby.
“Wish for Meis a labor of love, and I hope after you read it, you keep it on your shelf for a while, but then also have the courage to pass the book on to someone you think might need it. Because books are at their best when they leave their shelves—sort of like humans,” Joanna expressed as she got comfortably seated to start the reading. “And well, I...” Her words fumbled off for a second. Her brows knit together as sweat still gathered at her temples. She laughed nervously and shook her head. “Sorry, I just, I...” she patted her chest as she cleared her throat. “I, I—”
Before another word could be muttered, a loud thump was heard from the back of the room. Everyone turned around to see what had happened, which is where I saw Grandma Claire, laying on the floor.
“Oh my gosh!” I shouted, along with echoes of the same panicked responses around me. As swiftly as possible, I was by Grandma Claire’s side as my heart pounded rapidly against my chest. Everything somehow sped up and slowed down all at once as Grandma Claire’s eyes locked with mine. The panic in her stare was enough to make my eyes well with tears. “You’re OK, you’re OK,” I swore, I lied, I prayed.
As I stayed at her side, I heard other words that floated through the space.
Heart attack!
Stroke!
9-1-1!
9-1-1...
Oh my gosh, I need someone to call 9-1-1.
I shot my head around and right beside me was Dad. His eyes locked with mine as he had his phone pressed tightly to his ear. I held Grandma Claire’s hand as he held mine.
“Yes, we need a paramedic swiftly,” Dad ordered to the operator on the other side of his call. He gave the address, he stayed calm as I fell apart, and then he hung up the phone.
Grandma’s eyes faded shut.
My heart began to shatter.
Seven minutes.
It took seven minutes for the paramedics to arrive, but to me it might as well have been forever.
The moment they walked in I had a massive range of emotions shooting through me. I was relieved and angry, sad and scared. I wanted to shout at them for taking so long. I wanted to fall to their feet and beg them to save my friend. I wanted to hit them while hugging them. In the moment they were both my hero and enemy, and I’d only know how they’d end up based on how they helped my grandmother.
I couldn’t lose my grandmother. I’d already lost her daughter. I couldn’t let her go, too.
Instead of saying anything to the paramedics, though, I kept my eyes on my grandmother, checking her pulse to make sure she was still with me.
It was faint, but it was there.
She was still with me.
My heart kept shattering.
“Everyone, step back,” a deep, booming voice shouted, making the tiny hairs resting against my arms stand straight up. “Make room,” the husky voice ordered. With haste, the man and his partner made their way to me.
“Miss, I’m going to need you to back up,” he ordered, but I couldn’t look at him. I needed to be there for Grandma Claire. I needed her to feel me, to have my touch as a reminder of why she needed to keep fighting, a reminder of why she needed to stay.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as my body shook uncontrollably. The fear felt as if it was weights sitting heavily against each and every one of my heartbeats.
I shook my head. “You have to help her, you have to, you—”
A hand landed on my hand, which was still holding Grandma’s. The touch took me by surprise and brought me back to reality.
I turned my head to look at the paramedic that was helping me, and all the air sitting packed in my lungs instantly evaporated. Those eyes felt extremely familiar to me. Unlike with strangers, he didn’t stare at me as if I were a freak of nature. He didn’t look at me as all the others in the world often did.No.He looked at me as if he were coming home after a long trip away. He looked as if he’d seen the brightest shooting star in the world. He looked at me as if I were the wish that he’d made on that shooting star. He looked at me as if he knew me, because he very much did.
