Chapter 3 - They Came Up the Stairs Too Loud
I heard them before I saw them. The front door banged open downstairs and boots hit the wood too hard. Dad had left it unlocked after his call and now every step up shook through the floor into my forehead where it rested against the bed.
Mom stood up straight so fast her necklaces swung. She smoothed the blanket over Gran Rose in one quick pull and tucked it tight under her arms. Rose didn't move. Her chest still did that shallow lift I kept counting.
"Mark," Mom whispered. "Get Lily."
I didn't lift my head. I could smell the clean cotton of the sheet and the faint lotion Gran always used. Dad's hand landed on my shoulder.
"Lil, you gotta move for a sec, okay? Let them in."
I shook my head against the mattress. My ponytail caught on the blanket's edge. I didn't care.
The dark wooden door swung in and two people filled it. A woman with a short black ponytail carrying a big red bag and a younger guy with a clipboard pushing a folded stretcher thing. Their radios crackled. The room that had been so quiet suddenly felt small and crowded with air.
"Morning, folks. What've we got?" the woman said, already crossing to the bed. Her eyes went right to Rose.
My mom stepped back toward the glass doors. The sheer curtains moved behind her. "My mother. She's — she wouldn't wake up this morning. She's breathing, but she won't respond."
The woman knelt by the bed and put two fingers on Gran's wrist while the guy opened the bag. Velcro ripped. "Ma'am, how old is she? Any history we should know? Heart, stroke, diabetes? Meds this morning? When did symptoms start?"
Dad looked at Mom. Mom's hands twisted together in front of her beige blouse.
"She's seventy-eight," Mom said. "No — no major history. She just takes a blood pressure pill. She was fine last night. We came in this morning and she was like this."
I lifted my head then. That wasn't all true. Gran had been holding her head at dinner and said the light hurt her eyes. Mom had told her to lie down and not make a fuss. I opened my mouth but Mom's eyes cut to me so fast I stopped.
"Dad, don't make me go," I said. My voice sounded scraped up.
The male EMT touched my arm gently. "Hey, kiddo, we need space to work. How about that chair over there? You can watch from there, deal?"
He meant the upholstered armchair in the corner by the balcony doors. I let Dad pull me up because my legs were asleep and tingly. I sank into the chair and curled my feet up under me. The fabric was rough against my bare ankles. I wouldn't leave the room. I locked my hands around my knees so they'd know.
The woman shined a little light in Gran's eyes and frowned. "Rose? Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can." Nothing. She glanced at the guy. "Pulse thready. Resps shallow. Let's get her on the board and get moving. Possible neuro event."
Neuro event. I didn't know what that meant but Dad made a sound like he'd been punched.
Mom hovered near the side table, straightening Gran's water glass that didn't need straightening. "Did she hit her head? She didn't fall?" the woman asked while they unfolded the blankets.
"No," Mom said too quickly. "She was in bed. Just like this. In her pajamas."
They slid something flat under Gran and on the count of three lifted her. Her light satin pajamas with the burgundy trim bunched at her shoulder and I saw the familiar mole on her collarbone. Her head tipped to the side. I almost got up to fix it.
"She likes her head on two pillows," I said loudly.
The woman nodded at me. "Got it, sweetie. We'll keep her comfy."
They strapped her in and started toward the dark wooden door. The wheels of the stretcher squeaked. Mom grabbed her purse. Dad grabbed his keys with shaking hands.
In the hallway the light was dimmer and the stairs dropped steep. I followed right behind the stretcher, my socks sliding on the dark wood floors.
"You can meet us at County General," the guy said to Dad. "One rider in back if —"
"I'm going," I said before he finished. Mom put her hand on my head.
"Lily, you ride with us. There's no room —"
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"I'm going with her," I said again, louder this time, and I grabbed the rail of the stretcher where Gran's hand rested. It was cool. I held on and didn't let go, and the EMT woman looked from me to Mom and sighed and nodded toward the stairs.
"Let her come. It's better if she's calm."
