Page 32 of Forever Christmas
But I can’t think that way.
The baby is due in February. I might be able to start my doctorate work the next fall. I don’t know. It’s overwhelming, all of it. I dab my eyes again.
Mom and Dad exchange a glance, and I know they have figured out something is up. But it’s not time to talk about it.
We’re quiet the remainder ofthe drive. When we get to the hospital, we find they have cleared Gavin’s father’s room, as they expect him to spend the night in ICU.
“The family will be in the surgical waiting room,” the nurse tells us.
We head back to the elevator.
“I haven’t seen Ben in ages,” Mom says. “I’m glad Alaina’s brother can be there, especially if her mother-in-law is coming.”
I grimace. I remember Grandma Kvery well. A sour-faced woman lacking any patience but with more than her share of opinions. Sometimes Gavin and I would cast her as the evil witch in our little plays.
“I wasn’t aware I would be sharing a room with Katerina Mays,” Dad says. He elbows me. “Let’s make a run for it.”
“You weren’t listening last night,” Mom admonishes. “Alaina told us the two of them were coming in.”
“I zonedout,” Dad says.
“You were playing Plants versus Zombies,” Mom says.
“I couldn’t let them win!” Dad says. “It’s war!”
“Oh, Arthur,” Mom says.
I feel better, listening to the amicable teasing that defined my childhood. Instead of the struggling grad student with debt and problems, I’m just somebody’s daughter.
The surgical floor is much busier than the regular wards. It’s midmorning, and itseems everyone is being wheeled in or out of procedures. Clumps of people stand in the halls, some talking to nurses. We follow the signs to the cardiac ward and spot Gavin’s mom in the chairs of a large waiting area. Grandma K is next to her.
“There she is,” Dad says through clenched teeth.
Gavin’s grandmother looks exactly the same as the last time I saw her, at Finn’s funeral. Stout, dressedin a vivid green muumuu, her silvery hair spun into a wispy puff, her pale scalp showing through.
She holds a red purse in her lap, clamped with both hands. She stares straight ahead. I’m not sure if she’s worried about her son, or this is just her usual surly self.
Gavin’s mother stands when she sees us. “Maybelle, Arthur, so good of you to return.” She kisses Mom’s cheek. “And Corabelle.”She looks behind us. “Where is Gavin? And June?”
“He didn’t message you?” Mom asks, casting a worried glance my way. “He and June are back in Deming. He didn’t see a reason to put June through a long day of waiting up here. They’ll come when there is news.”
“Oh,” she says. “I guess that is good for June.” She glances back at Grandma K. “Ben hasn’t made it yet. He’s driving down from Phoenix.”
She sits down, and Mom takes a seat beside her. No one speaks to Grandma K. Dad and I glance at each other. There’s only one seat by Mom. The other is on the other side, next to Grandma K.
Dad leans in. “Arm wrestle you for it.”
I laugh. “We can go in the row behind.”
“You were always the smart one,” he says.
We settle in behind the two mothers. Grandma K still hasn’t glanced our way. I leanclose. “Hello, Grandma K,” I say.
She grunts, her eyes still forward.
Gavin’s mom glances back at me and gives the tiniest shrug.
“I’m so glad I could be here,” Mom says. “I assume Robert has already gone back?”
“He’s in prep,” Mrs. Mays says. “Surgery is supposed to begin at nine.”
That’s in ten minutes. I imagine surly Mr. Mays back there in his hospital gown, all mean eyes and patchy whiskers,insulting everybody right to the end. They’ll probably enjoy putting the mask on him and watching him go under.
Stores won’t open until ten. I settle in by Dad and plan to just wait. This is what family does.
Even when the one you’re sitting here for is an obstinate, awful, horrible man.
Maybe this brush with mortality will be the thing that changes him.
