Page 67 of A Fabulously Unfabulous Summer for Henry Milch

“That’s nice. It’s good to have friends.”

She looked at me like I’d just sprouted antlers.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Somewhere along the line it had begun raining. Heavy gray clouds turned the sky dark, even though it wasn’t even five in the afternoon and it would be light until nearly ten. Something about being so far north or time zones or both, I don’t know. But the last few days had been insanely bright.

When I opened the back door, Reilly was whimpering. “Do you have to go outie?” I asked the dog. Yes, I spoke baby talk to my dog, as though I thought by doing so he’d eventually pick up the language. He hadn’t and he wouldn’t.

I opened the back door for him, but he didn’t budge.

“Okay.” I turned my back and he whimpered again. Except it wasn’t him. He wasn’t the one whimpering. My first thought was ‘Oh God!’

Then I called out, “Nana?”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I walked down the short hallway to the bathroom. It was between the kitchen and my grandmother’s bedroom.

“Nana, are you okay?”

I knocked on the bathroom door and then pushed it open. There she was lying on the floor in a fetal position. There wasfoamy vomit on the floor and on her chin. Obviously, she’d had another stroke.

My stomach clenched. Oh my God, she was going to die! And that was terrible! I’d just started to almost, maybe, like her! Of course, looking on the bright side, it was not my fault this time.

“Nana can you hear me?”

“Will? Will is that you? I’m sorry. I was bad. I shouldn’t have—I lost the baby, Will. Can you forgive me? Can you ever forgive me?”

I bent over and she clutched at me as though she’d never let me go. Clearly, she had no idea who I was.

“Nana? It’s me, Henry. Your grandson. I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“Where is Will? I want Will. Why won’t he come? Did you make him go away?”

“Don’t try to get up. Just stay there.”

The smell was terrible. She hadn’t only thrown up on the floor, she’d also vomited into the toilet. I flushed it. Back in the kitchen, I used the wall phone to call 911.

As I gave the operator our address, I could hear my grandmother vomiting again. This was different from her first stroke. That time she hadn’t vomited at all. Maybe this was affecting a different part of her brain? Maybe that meant it wouldn’t be as bad. Maybe it meant shewouldn’tdie.

I was told the ambulance would be there in about ten minutes. I was also told to stay on the line, but I said I needed to go back into the bathroom to be with my grandmother. I didn’t want to leave her alone. Then I hung up.

Back in the bathroom, I said, “The ambulance is coming, Nana.”

“What ambulance, Will? You can take me to the hospital. I’m not hurt bad. Honest. I don’t want you making a fuss. I love you. I love you so much.”

This was embarrassing.

“It’s Henry, Nana. Your grandson.”

“What?”

“I’m Henry.”

“Yes, I know that. You look just like your grandfather.”

It felt like she meant Will, the man she’d mistaken me for, so I said, “My grandfather was Samuel.”

“Why are you telling me that? I know who your grandfather was.”