Mary, Mary

Chapter 120

I STARTED TO SPEAK my piece, but Nana Mama went on, gently raising her voice.

“I'm the first of us to go. Don't you dare argue with me.”

Finally, I just shrugged, which hurt my shoulder and neck.

“What can I say?”

“Nothing. You say nothing. You just listen to my wisdom, wisdom of the ages. You listen, and maybe one day you'll finally learn something.”

We shared a long look into each other's eyes. A lump rose in my throat, although what I felt wasn't sadness. It was more like gratitude, and the most incredible love for this small, amazingly powerful woman - who was, indeed, wise beyond her years, and certainly mine.

“Believe it or not, I always listen to you,” I said.

“Yes, and then you go and do whatever you were going to do in the first place.”

Sounds from the hospital corridor came into the room as the door opened halfway I looked over to see Damon's eager face, and my heart did a little hop.

“Look who it is ”I wiped my eyes. “The man of the house has arrived.”

“They told us Jannie can't come in 'cause she's under twelve,” he said.

I sat up in bed. “Where is she?”

“I'm right here.” Jannie's indignant tone came through clearly from behind the door.

"Well, then get in here before anyone sees you. C'mon. Nobody's gonna arrest you.

Except me, if you stay outside for one minute longer."

The two of them came in and rushed over to the bed, stopping short at the sight of my collection of bandages. I reached out with my free arm and took them both in at the same time.

“How long do you have to be here?” Jannie asked into my good side.

“Should be going home in a couple of days,” I told her.

“Looks worse than it is,” said Nana.

Damon stood up again and looked at the truss. “Did it hurt really bad?”

“Badly,” Nana muttered.

“I've had worse,” I said. They both looked at me with the same neutral, almost reproachful expression. "Who was the parent here, anyway? Somehow they seemed older than the last time I'd seen them. I felt a little older myself. These two were going to grow and change, whether or not I was around to watch. Such an obvious thing, but the truth of it - the reality of it - suddenly inhabited me.

I finally gave in. “Yeah,” I said. “It did. It hurt a lot.”

And then, that terrible thought again - don't make them orphans, Alex - and I held my kids so tight, even as my shoulder ached, but I couldn't let them go, and I couldn't let them know what I was thinking, either.