My heart stopped dead in my chest. This was the saddest story I’d ever heard in my life, and it related to someone I knew. Someone I cared a great deal for.
“I’m not telling you this to try to convince you to… feel more than you do or to feel as if I’m asking you to take responsibility for a woman you haven’t known all that long,” she said.
“I know and—”
She shook her head, cutting me off. “Clara would be angry if she discovers I’ve told you any of this, but I can live with her anger. I’m telling you so you’ll understand why she holds back. I think she’s afraid to care about anyone because she’s scared to lose them. But, Alek, she does like you. She likes you a whole lot.”
I smiled. “I like her quite a lot as well,” I reassured Olga.
Did Clara really like me that much, or was Olga seeing what she wanted to see because she was afraid of leaving her granddaughter alone? Sure, when we were together, it was like two halves becoming one. We had an intense connection, and I felt like we were both all in and could really be something special. But even then I often caught Clara looking at me as if there was something she wished to say but either didn’t trust herself to do so or didn’t trust me to listen.
I’d seen Clara’s eyes light up as she had bent down to give her grandmother a gentle hug. There was such a strong emotion there, and now I felt like I really saw a side of Clara and her connection with her grandmother few could understand. It reminded me of my own relationship with my mother, and I understood the fear of losing someone you were so close with. Clara had lost everyone. Olga was all that she had left, and now Clara was scared she was about to lose her, too. Death was a part of life, but losing a parent was never an easy thing. Never.
“She doesn’t need any more on her plate.”
The words turned my attention back to the bed. “No, no, she doesn’t. I promise you I will do whatever I can to help her. Perhaps show her it’s time to put down the burdens she’s been carrying for far too long.”
“I thought whatever penance was expected of her had finally been paid in full until…”
The silence wasn’t filled even after a moment or two, long enough for her to take several breaths, so I knew she hadn’t stopped speaking because she was out of air.
“Until what, Babka?”
“Nothing,” she said, closing her eyes. “I’m just a bit tired.”
I could understand that. She might be putting on a brave face, but Olga was elderly and suffering. Listening to her, watching her gave me another insight into the woman she’d raised. The two were far more alike than they might believe. Yet for some reason, I wasn’t quite buying her act. I looked from her to the door and back again. What were these two women not telling me?
Clara had been through so much. How much more could she shoulder before she fell the fuck apart?25Clara“We’re done here,” Dr. Harper said, scrawling his name across a sheet of paper and handing it to me. “Your grandmother was a lucky lady, but she does need to eat and take her medications as prescribed. If you need help—”
“I don’t,” I said and then shook my head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. We have homecare nurses coming in, and I promise we’ll make sure my grandmother is taken care of. Thank you for saving her life.”
He smiled. “I wouldn’t go that far, but even without dealing with degenerative arthritis, age alone makes her more fragile. She’s very lucky she didn’t break a hip, and I’d certainly rather not see her passing out again.”
“Me either,” I agreed quickly, grateful that hadn’t happened.
He nodded and shook my hand before walking away. I turned to go back to the room but found a woman standing in my path. “May I help you?”
The woman glanced down at the clipboard she was holding. “Miss Simian?”
Before I could correct her pronunciation of my name, she said, “I’m afraid we can’t let you leave until you’ve completed the insurance portion of the intake form.”
Ahh, that pinched expression on her face should have told me this woman was from the billing department.
“Wow, you really hold patients hostage?” I said and then realized this woman wasn’t the type to find humor in my rather feeble joke. “I’m sorry, I’m a little stressed.”
She gave a curt nod, clicked her pen, and pressed the tip against the paper clipped to her board. “Name of insurance and policy number?”
I couldn’t help but wonder if the woman had ever heard of empathy. As warm and concerned as Dr. Harper had been, this woman… Anne Wilkenson according to her nametag, was as cold as the iceberg that sank the Titanic.