Fish Out of Water (22 page)

“I’m not a dog!” Shrey throws a plastic trowel at her.

Olivia laughs. “Should I get a collar?”

#

When I get home, I can hear screaming even before I get inside the house. The words become clearer when I come through the front door. “Don’t come near me! Go away! I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

“Mom…” Dad’s voice is mock calm, the kind of calm you use when you’re scared but trying not to be.

“Don’t talk to me! You have no right to be anywhere near me—especially with that whore next to you. How could you bring her here after all you did to us? Go to hell! I wish you had died!”

I peek around the corner, afraid of what I’ll see. Betty looks wild, pulling at her hair so hard I’m afraid it’ll come out. Tears stream down her face even though she’s so angry my parents keep their distance. She’s had some bad moments, but this is the worst I’ve seen and it scares me. This isn’t just some forgetful moments or rudeness. She actually looks full on crazy.

“Mom…” Dad holds out his shaking hand. “I think you have me confused for someone else. I’m your son, Stanley.”

“I don’t have a son!” Her words are so shrill I worry she’ll lose her voice. “How could I have a son?”

“Who do you think I am?” he tries.

“You know who you are!” She grabs a heavy vase from the table, and my mom gasps. “I know what you did! She said you were dead but I
knew.
Gracie didn’t believe me, but I KNEW. I found the letter you sent Mom!”

“You think I’m…your father?” Dad asks.

“OF COURSE YOU ARE!” Betty throws the vase at him.

Dad grabs Mom, and they duck just in time. The vase shatters on the coffee table behind them, sending shards all the way to where I hide. That’s when I step out—my sandals crunch over broken glass as I scream, “Stop it!”

Betty doesn’t stop, but instead points at my dad like she’s telling on him. “He left her. He left the US. He left his country. And for what? An ugly Oriental whore he claimed to be in love with! I HATE HIM. We lost everything because of—”

Her face crumples as she clutches her chest, and despite the horrible things she said I’m horrified to see her hit the ground. I run over to her, put my hand on her shoulder. “Betty? Are you…?”

When her eyes meet mine, all I see in them is terror. She’s not okay. Mentally or physically. Not even close. I’m no doctor, but I’m pretty sure she’s having a heart attack. My parents pick themselves up from the floor, and I wonder if I look as scared as they do when I say, “Call 911.”

Chapter 33

I haven’t spent much time in hospitals, but as my parents and I huddle in the waiting room I’m positive I want to spend as little time here as possible. This place reminds me too much of my parents’ lab, except instead of studying fish they study humans. Dying, sick humans.

What if Betty dies?

I keep thinking about it no matter how hard I try not to. The EMTs rushing into our house, using the defibrillator, getting her on a gurney and saying all these things that sounded like she was already gone. Maybe it’s been hard to have her around, but I never wanted her to die. Who’s horrible enough to wish someone dead?

She can’t. She just got here, and I need to know if what she screamed about was true. I think it is. It explains everything, why she’s so hard on the outside but still like a child inside. Why she pushes people away although she wants them so badly.

My stomach rolls as I imagine her somewhere in this awful place on an operating table. Please, please let her live.

A doctor in sea green scrubs comes through the big double doors. He looks over the waiting room and zones in on us. “Are you the Arlingtons?”

“Yes.” My dad straightens his glasses. “I’m Stanley.”

“Your mother, Elizabeth Arlington?”

Dad nods. I wish the doctor would get to the point already.

“She’s in surgery now. I’m afraid we won’t know the extent of the damage until it’s over, but we do know it was a major heart attack. I pulled her records and noticed her cholesterol and blood pressure were quite high.” He puts his pen to the clipboard. “Now, the EMTs said you described a stressful event taking place when this happened. Could you provide me more information?”

My dad takes a deep breath. “You probably saw in her records that she’s been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. When I came into the room with my wife—after having been gone only a few minutes—she started screaming. We figured out that she had mistaken me for her father, who she did not have a good relationship with. She threw a vase and just after that collapsed.”

It sounds so…not intense in summary. The doctor clearly doesn’t find it that horrific, but I’m still reeling. Her anger was so palpable, her sorrow as real as if her father had left yesterday.

The doctor finishes his notes, seeming satisfied. “The stress must have aggravated an already dangerous situation. I’ll have more for you after she’s out of surgery.”

“How long will that be?” Mom asks.

The doctor purses his lips. “Hard to say, not knowing how much has been damaged. I would guess at least six hours to be on the safe side. Standard bypass is around four.”

Since Betty fell I haven’t looked at a clock, but my stomach sinks when I see it’s already a quarter to three. Dylan. He’ll be waiting for me, and I have no way to call him.

I push two on my phone—the speed dial for Shreya. She doesn’t pick up. I try three—Olivia. Nothing there either. I sigh. Of course I can’t get a hold of them. Either they’re still at the beach sculpting and too far away to hear their phones, or they’ve gone somewhere else to spend the afternoon. Maybe a movie. Or the spa. Olivia has gotten us in there for free a couple times.

There’s only one other person to call, and I’d rather not. My finger hovers over Clark’s home number. I take a deep breath and press it. Each ring makes my heart pound, and my mind races through what I’m supposed to say.

Turns out I don’t have to say anything, because he doesn’t answer either. He must be at the store, so I call there. Nothing. Again. I hang up at the voicemail message. This isn’t something for voicemail.

Well, I tried. What else can I do but call again later? I don’t have his email, though he probably isn’t allowed to check it anyway. I lean back in the seat, already exhausted. The doctor finishes with my parents, and then it’s quiet for too long. I’m not sure any of us know how to deal with death well. Dad never even told me his Aunt Grace died, and Mom’s grandparents are still alive. I’ve talked to both sets of them online, even though they think the internet is weird. I guess I would too if I was a hundred years old.

“What are we gonna do?” I finally say. “We just sit here?”

Mom frowns. “I’m sorry, you had your big date, huh.”

I shake my head. “This is more important, but what do we do? There’s nothing we can do for her?”

Dad sighs. “We can be here. That’s about it.”

“It doesn’t seem like enough.” I feel like we did something wrong, like maybe if we had taken better care of her this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe if I was nicer to her from the start, or if I’d tried to learn more about Alzheimer’s, or if we’d taken her to the doctor every week. I don’t say any of this out loud. My parents already look stressed.

“It is enough.” The bump in my dad’s throat bobs, and it seems like he’s holding back tears. “No one’s ever been there for her, I don’t think. Not even me. Sitting here, even if she doesn’t know we are, would mean more to her than anything.”

I nod, tears pricking my eyes. “Is what she said true? About her dad?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. She told us he died in the war. I never thought to question it. But if he really left like that…well, it makes sense. It doesn’t excuse her behavior, and yet I’m glad I understand it better.”

“This isn’t the first time she’s hinted at it,” I admit. “I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry, I didn’t think anything like this would happen.”

“Whoaaa…” Dad leans forward, his hazel eyes locked on mine. “Do you think this is your fault?”

I look down.

“Mi-chan, none of us could have seen this coming. We’ve done our best to take care of her, and her health was already poor. Her disinterest in food has actually been kind of helpful for her weight, but it didn’t help fast enough.”

“And we can’t control what she remembers or how she reacts,” Mom adds. “We didn’t do anything differently. She was fine all morning.”

I try to push back the guilt. “Yeah, I know. It’s just…”

“Just what?” Dad asks.

I bite my lip, my head and heart filled with a jumble of emotions. The right words seem impossible to find. “It’s like, I know she’s kind of a horrible person…but at the same time I feel sorry for her and I wish she was better and I really, really don’t want her to die. I…I…”

I love her. She was no one to me at first, but now I care about her more than I ever thought possible. She’s my grandmother. And as hard as it is sometimes, I like having her around now.

A tear escapes, at which point my mom puts an arm around me. “Sweetie, none of us want her to die. I hope we taught you better than that!”

I wipe at my face, trying to keep it together. “How can I dislike someone so much and yet love them at the same time?”

My dad chuckles. “I think that’s the definition of family.”

Mom slaps his knee and calls him stupid in Japanese. “I think it’s okay to care about someone, even if they’ve made bad choices in the past. We’ve all come to understand Betty more in taking care of her, and with that comes compassion. I never thought I’d be glad we let her stay, but I am.”

I nod, feeling a little better.

Dad puts his elbows to his knees. “Sure would have been nice to know this stuff about her a few decades ago, though. Could have saved me a lot of trouble.”

“Why do people keep secrets like that?” I picture my grandma as a little girl, finding out that her dad was never coming back. And not because he was dead, but because he just didn’t want to. She’s carried that pain with her forever, and it seems like it impacted her life in all the worst ways.

“Everyone has reasons,” Dad says, and I wonder if he’s thinking about the things he keeps to himself. “Sometimes it’s too painful to think about. Or they’re ashamed. Or they want to forget.”

“Sounds like excuses, like running away,” I mumble.

Dad smirks. “We are fight or flight creatures. It might not be the best way to cope, but sometimes it’s the easiest.”

“Yes, this is so easy.” I grab a magazine, suddenly angry. It could have been different. If my grandma would have talked about it, gotten help, something. Did any of this have to happen? I don’t know; I just wish things didn’t have to be this way. I wish I would have known her before she got sick. I wish she had had a happy life, and my dad, too. So many wishes. Nothing I can do to change history.

The hours tick by, one then two then four then six. We take turns getting food at the hospital cafeteria, making sure there’s always one person around in case the doctor returns. The food isn’t as bad as I’ve heard, or maybe I can’t taste right in this haze of waiting.

Dylan hasn’t called, though I tried getting ahold of him a few more times. I thought he might at some point. The Aquarium closed at six, and I hate to think he waited all that time and is now seething somewhere because I ditched him. It’s past nine. If he hasn’t called by now…

That’s when my phone rings. It’s him.

Chapter 34

“I tried—”

“Am I some joke to you?” he says over me. “I’m starting to think you enjoy messing with me.”

“Dylan,” my voice cracks despite my best efforts. “My grandma had a heart attack. I’m at the hospital, and she’s still not out of surgery. I tried to call your uncle at home and the store, but he didn’t answer. Olivia and Shreya never called me back, either. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t answer for so long I wonder if I lost him. “Well, I feel like a huge jerk now.”

I smile a little. “Told you you need a phone.”

“I’m beyond convinced. Sorry I jumped to conclusions.” He sounds genuinely worried now that he knows I didn’t intend to leave him hanging. “Do you need anything? Should I come?”

“What?” My heart about jumps up my throat. I look to my parents, who are pretending not to listen. “Um, I don’t know.”

He’d be face to face with my mom and dad, something I usually avoid at all costs. And then there’s the undeniable fact that him being here would turn this relationship from “we really like each other” to “this is serious.” Hospital waiting rooms, rides to the airport, helping with a move—those are all things that suck, things you only do for people you care about a lot.

“Well, are you staying all night?” he asks.

“I’m not sure. We don’t even know if she’ll make it yet. There…” I have to push the words out. “…might be nothing to stay for.”

“That’s it. I’m coming.” His voice is resolute. “I’ll bring some blankets in case you guys need them, and food. I’m guessing you’re at Community Hospital, right?”

This is the part where I could tell him not to come. If I tell him where we are, that’s basically saying I want him here. Which means I want him this involved in my life, my family. Maybe I’m overthinking it, but it feels big to me. And yet at the same time I know my answer.

“Yes. A few blankets would be great. The seats are kind of gross and not comfortable.”

He laughs, and the thought of him smiling makes everything a little better. “What kind of food should I get?”

“One sec.” I put my hand over the phone and look to my parents. “Dylan wants to bring us food—what do you want?”

Dad raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Mom tries not to smile—as if her excitement might make me chicken out—and fails miserably. “Tell him to get some burgers and fries from wherever you want, Mi-chan. Can’t mess that up, and it’ll keep us full. We might be here a long time.”

“Okay.” I tell him, though it seems weird to eat fast food while waiting for someone to get out of heart surgery.