Page 126 of Someone Like Me
The medics have Mrs. Vivian strapped onto the stretcher. They raise it, make a few adjustments, and then begin to negotiate her through the bedroom.
Drew nods. “Okay. Yeah.” But then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys. “But take Grandma’s car. Meet me at the hospital — General — and I’ll drive you to work. I’ll need a way to get home anyway.”
I don’t understand why driving me to work is important to him, but I see it is. Who am I to argue? I take the keys from him.
“Okay. I can find a ride home after.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll come get you.”
I frown at him and let my eyes follow the medics as they move the stretcher through the bedroom door. “But you’ll have your hands full. I—“
“I’ll come get you,” he says again, moving toward the door. “I won’t be going to the garage today. Just let me know what time.”
I follow. “I finish at four.” And then I frown. “I wish I could stay with you. Help whatever way I could.”
Drew stops at the door. Then he’s standing right in front of me. Pulling me into a tight embrace, He plants a quick kiss on my lips. “You are helping. See you at the hospital.” He releases me and then is out the door. But from the hallway, I hear him call. “I love you!”
“I love you, too!”
The front door closes, and I stand in Mrs. Vivian’s bedroom, a little lost for a moment. My life has tilted on its axis a few times since I met Drew. It tilts now. A heady wave of awareness washes over me. A moment of clarity that is present, past, and future all at once.
It is as though future me is seeing the present me standing at the foot of Mrs. Vivian’s bed and recognizes this moment — outside of time — as the turning point. The one that separates my life from who I was and who I will be.
The sensation makes me shiver, and as soon as I do, it’s gone. I blink and make myself move.Pack some things for Drew’s grandmother,I tell myself. Using her bed as a staging area, I gather her reading glasses and the copy ofGarden Gatemagazine from her bedside table. Her robe and slippers, a clean nightgown and underwear make the pile. I take everything that seems to orbit her bathroom sink: hairbrush, toothbrush, face cream, and bobby pins.
I find a small, leather valise in Mrs. Vivian’s closet. It’s mauve and it looks like something fromTV Land.And I can’t help but wonder when was the last time Mrs. Vivian went on a trip. I open the clamshell lid and find it empty, with the exception of the quilted lining of the interior and the air that likely has been trapped in there since 1975. I quickly pack her clothes and toiletries, lock the front door and go out again through the back.
With her case in one hand and Drew’s keys in the other, I stare at the steps that lead up to his apartment and try to make a decision.
Gemini. I need to let him out again before I leave and am gone until four. Do I take him back to Janine’s. Would Drew mind if he stayed in the apartment all day? Would Gem freak out?
“Evie?”
I whip my head in the direction of my old house to see both of my parents hurrying off our back porch toward the fence.
“We heard sirens—”
“What’s going on?”
Mom and Dad talk over each other, advancing with identical looks of worry.
“Are you alright?”
“Did he hurt you?”
My jaw sets. I place the valise on the bottom stair and slowly, mindfully cross Mrs. Vivian’s back yard. My parents need to be set straight, but I know my knee-jerk anger at their assumptions and prejudices against Drew won’t help me.
I reach the fence, and before I can say anything, each of my parents grabs one of my hands — as though if they just hold on tight enough, they can keep me from every harm.
“The sirens were from an ambulance,” I say evenly and watch as their eyes bug and their mouths fall open.
“What—”
“Is—”
“Mrs. Vivian was having trouble breathing. They think it’s pneumonia.” Mom’s hand flies to her mouth, and Dad’s brow creases in concern. “Drew left with her in the ambulance, and I’m headed to the hospital to bring her a few things.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Mom asks, and while I’m grateful for the offer, I can’t let her or Dad off the hook. I free my hands from theirs and stand up straight.
