Harsh Pink with Bonus Content (16 page)

“Oh, dear.” Mom puts her hand over her mouth. “So how do you treat it?”

“In her case, it’s just a matter of letting it heal. She’ll be bedridden for a while, but then we’ll try to get her moving, into physical therapy. If all goes well, she could be on her feet in six weeks.”

“Six weeks?”

“In the meantime, she’ll be confined to a wheelchair and need a lot of help. What kind of facility is she in now?”

“Actually, she’s still living at home with us,” says Mom.

“Does she have a full-time caregiver?”

“Just my daughter and me. I looked into an assisted living facility not too long ago. She’s on their waiting list.”

He frowns. “Assisted living won’t take her now.”

“Why not?”

“Because she needs too much help. She’s at a whole new stage of care now.” He writes something on a piece of paper. “Give this place a call. Tell them she’ll be released from the hospital in a few days.” Then he walks away.

“That seems a little harsh,” I say as I watch him heading down the hallway.

“I’m sure he’s just being honest with us.”

“What’s the name of the place?” I ask.

“Martindale Manor,” she reads. “I’ll give them a call.”

I wait in the lobby while Mom calls the nursing home on her cell phone. I still feel extremely guilty, like this is all my fault — on so many levels. And yet what can I do? I consider offering to care for Nana myself, at home. But I know that’s not really possible. I have school … and a life.

“They can take her,” says Mom, looking relieved.

“Should we go check them out first?”

“I don’t know if there’s any point, since they’re the only care facility with an opening right now.”

“Is that what they told you?” I feel suspicious now.

“Yes. But they also gave me a couple of other names in case I wanted to shop around.”

“Oh.”

“We just have to accept this, Reagan. I know it’s hard to let her go to this next stage, but maybe it’s for the best.”

“Maybe.” I turn away and head for the restroom. Tears are blurring my eyes now. I just do not see how this can be for the best. And I just do not understand a world where someone as sweet and good and kind as Nana must suffer like this. What is up with that? I wonder how Andrea Lynch would explain a God who does things like this? I have half a mind to call and ask her. But I won’t. I will not give her the satisfaction. Besides, she might blame me for Nana’s fall. She heard how upset I was when she couldn’t watch Nana next Saturday. Maybe she’ll think I pushed her.

As I’m standing in front of the sink, my cell phone rings. “Hey, Reagan,” says Kendra. “How about that movie?”

So I explain to her about Nana’s accident, about finding her on the floor, and, actually crying as I speak, I even confess about the Alzheimer’s. Then, to my surprise, Kendra is very understanding and supportive.

“Forget about the movie,” she finally says. “I’m just sorry to hear all that you’ve been through. Poor Reagan.”

I sniff. “I’m okay. But it’s just been such an ordeal. Sorry to dump on you like that.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for.” Then she asks which hospital. And I tell her. “How about if I stop by and say hey?”

“Sure,” I tell her, although I don’t know why she wants to trouble herself. Still, it’s sweet. And I think this is just more proof that Andrea was totally wrong about Kendra and my friends. Why did I let that stupid girl get to me?

It’s not long before Nana is settled into a room. Mom and I stay with her, just talking and reassuring her that everything’s going to be okay. I notice that Mom’s not mentioning anything about the nursing home. And maybe that’s for the best. It would probably just confuse her anyway.

“When can we go home?” asks Nana for about the sixth time.

“Not today,” Mom says again. She glances at me. “I’m going to get some coffee. Want me to bring you something?”

“No thanks.”

Shortly after Mom leaves, Kendra shows up with a beautiful bouquet of pink roses and a little pink teddy bear.

“Oh, my!” Nana claps her hands happily and I introduce them.

“Andrea,” says Nana. “You look so pretty today.”

“No, her name’s not Andrea,” I say, acting like Nana just got it wrong, although I know she actually thinks this is Andrea Lynch, which makes no sense, except that they’re both blonde and about the same height and Nana’s got a memory problem. “Her name’s Kendra.”

Kendra laughs. “Oh, well, Kendra sounds a little like Andrea.”

“Yes.” Nana nods and smiles. “Kendra, Andrea, Andrea, Kendra. They rhyme. Like LeAnn Rimes. That rhymes too.”

I toss Kendra an embarrassed smile and she just laughs and continues to chat nonsense with Nana. It’s actually nice having her here and I’m impressed with how easily she goes along with things, how she seems to accept Nana just as she is. Almost like a member of the family. When Mom gets back, I introduce her to Kendra, and I think Mom’s actually impressed with my friend.

“Beautiful roses,” she says as she moves them closer to Nana’s bedside.

“Pretty pink,” says Nana happily. I think maybe the pain medication is making her even goofier than usual. But she’s so sweet, it’s hard not to smile.

“It was so nice of you to come by the hospital,” Mom says to Kendra.

“We had planned to go to a movie tonight,” I tell Mom. “But I told Kendra that I — ”

“Why don’t you go?” says Mom. “I can stay here and keep Mother company.”

“Oh, but — ”

“No, really, Reagan. There’s no reason we both have to be here. In fact, maybe we should take turns visiting her while she’s in the hospital. It’ll help to pass the time for her. You can pop in after school and I’ll come during my lunch hour and in the evening. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good,” I say.

“So go,” she says, waving her hand.

Nana looks a little disappointed to see us leave, but I turn the TV to the country music channel, even though this makes Mom frown, and Nana cheers up. Then I kiss her good-bye and say, “I’ll see you later.”

“See you at home,” she calls. And I just wave.

“She’s going to go into a nursing home,” I explain to Kendra as we go down in the elevator.

“Does she know that?”

“No. There’s probably not much point in telling her. It would either worry her or she’d just forget.”

“Getting old must be horrible,” says Kendra as we walk through the lobby. “I think I’ll ask someone to just shoot me if I ever get so old that I have to be taken care of.”

“Me too,” I agree. Not that I want anyone to shoot Nana.

I drop my car at my house, and as I get into Kendra’s car, I notice that Andrea is outside raking leaves, watching us. She actually waves, but I pretend not to see.

“Do you know that girl?” asks Kendra, who obviously saw her.

“Not really,” I say. “I met her last summer when we moved here. She wanted to be friends, but I was like, uh, thanks but no thanks.”

Kendra snickers. “Smart thinking. She’s such a geek.”

This reminds me of something. “I still remember this totally weird thing she told me though.” I laugh as if it’s really funny. “She said that she
used
to be popular. Like that was going to impress me. I mean, seriously, how pathetic is that?”

Kendra laughs. “Extremely pathetic. But, you know, she actually did used to be slightly popular. Like way back in middle school. Then she turned into this religious freak and no one could stand her anymore. She sort of went from freak to geek.”

“And get this,” I say, deciding to totally trash her. “She was so desperate to be my friend that she hung out with my grandma.” I laugh loudly. “I mean, I love Nana to pieces, but can you imagine hanging out with an old lady just so you could be friends with her granddaughter? Serious Geek Girl.”

“That is so lame. Oh, yeah, her name’s Andrea, isn’t it? That’s probably why Nana got my name mixed up with hers.”

“Maybe so,” I admit. “That’s so sweet that you call Nana Nana. She really seemed to like you, Kendra.”

“You mean Andrea, Kendra, Kendra, Andrea? Or LeAnn Rimes?”

We both laugh, but I don’t think that joke’s terribly humorous, since it seems to be at Nana’s expense. Still, I have to admit that Nana can be pretty funny.

The movie turns out to be sort of ho-hum, but it’s a good distraction from this afternoon’s trauma. And by the time Kendra’s driving me home, I feel like maybe things will be okay after all. I thank her and get out. I see that the lights are on inside, which tells me that Mom must be home from the hospital. Hopefully Nana will be okay through the night. Maybe they’ll give her something to help her sleep.

I go inside through the front door and am immediately hit with the memory of Nana sprawled across the floor. I
so
thought she was dead. I guess I should be really thankful that she wasn’t. Still, it was upsetting.

“Reagan?” I hear Mom calling from the kitchen.

She holds up the Nordstrom bag that contains the shirt I got today. “You went to the mall?”

I consider this. “Yeah, just for a little while. After we got the party stuff.”

“The receipt in this bag says you purchased this shirt at 3:43.”

“Uh-huh.” I study Mom. “What are you, like a detective?”

“I’m just curious as to how long Nana was home alone today and whether you were here when she fell.”

“Well, no, I wasn’t here when she fell, Mom. I never said I was.”

“You gave me that impression, Reagan.”

“Sorry. It was all pretty upsetting.”

“So do you have any idea what time it was when Nana fell? Or how long she might’ve been on the floor like that?”

I shake my head no. “Well, her lunch is still in the fridge.”

“Oh.”

“So it’s possible she was on the floor for several hours, Reagan.”

Okay, this is really starting to bug me. “Is that my fault, Mom?”

“You gave me the impression that you were going to be home for most of the day.”

“So?”

“So did you lie to me?”

“No!”

“But you were gone for several hours?”

“I didn’t really watch the clock, Mom. And I was having fun, so it’s possible that the time got away from me.” I stare back at my mother and wonder why she can be so mean sometimes. “What are you saying? Are you trying to blame this on me, Mom? Is Nana supposed to be my responsibility? Am I supposed to take care of her around the clock?” Okay, I know I’m stepping over the line and asking for it, but Mom has pushed my button. “Sometimes I actually wonder if that’s the reason you adopted me, Mom. Just so you could have a little Chinese slave girl to wait on you. And then you could have her wait on your mother too. Was that your plan?”

Mom’s eyes grow wide. “I can’t believe you’d say something like that, Reagan! When I think of all I’ve done — ”

“What about
me
, Mom? What about all I’ve done for you? And I’m the kid here. I didn’t ask to be brought into this home. I didn’t have any choice.”

“Reagan Margaret Mercer!”

“Sorry, but that’s how I feel sometimes!”

For the first time that I can ever remember, my mother is speechless. She just stands there with her jaw hanging down, staring at me as if I’m a perfect stranger. And maybe I am. Sometimes I think I don’t even know myself anymore.

“Well.” She shakes her head. “I think we’ve both had a long day. We’re very stressed and have probably said some things we don’t mean.”

I just nod and walk away. Okay, I got off pretty easy just now. Still, I think that might’ve been the closest thing to an apology I’ve ever gotten from that woman. Honestly, when it comes to meanness, sometimes I think my mother might’ve written the book on it!

J
OCELYN AND
C
HAD ARE ACTUALLY DATING NOW
. T
HIS HAS PUT
J
OCELYN IN
a very jolly mood, which should make varsity squad a lot more pleasant, but it seems that Sally is in a perfect snit.