Page 41

THIRTY-EIGHT

SANA

Sana’s shoes clack against the linoleum floors of the hospital as she hurries down the corridor. Ward 4, the receptionist said, and it feels like the hospital is so impossibly big, but finally she locates it and bursts into the room. There are four beds in there, but only one is occupied. At the sight of the person occupying the hospital bed, Sana’s breath hitches into a sob.

“Oh, Vera,” she whispers in a choked voice.

Riki gets to his feet. “Hey, thanks for coming.”

She can only nod at him, her eyes still on the pale form on the bed. Vera has always been so full of life and fire and sparks, it’s just so wrong seeing her like this, old and fragile and defeated, as though she’s ready to leave altogether. Sana approaches slowly, her eyes swimming with tears. “Is she—”

“She’s going to be okay,” Riki says. “They said she’s dehydrated, hence the IV drip, and she might have bronchitis, but they said she should make a full recovery.”

Relief floods Sana’s chest. She takes Vera’s hand—the one without a needle sticking out of it—and cradles it ever so softly. “Vera, it’s Sana.” She leans close to Vera and whispers, “I’m so sorry. But I’m here now. And you were right about everything.” She longs so much for Vera to quirk a smile at that, but there is no movement, no flicker of facial expression.

“They say she’s sleeping.”

“Right, of course.” Sana stands back, wiping at her eyes.

The door opens and Emma runs inside, followed by Julia, who’s looking markedly more harried than she has been the past few weeks.

“Grandma!” Emma shouts, stopping short when she catches sight of Vera. She looks nervously at Julia, who looks at Riki and Sana.

“She’ll be okay,” Riki and Sana say at the same time. They startle, looking at each other, then Sana nods at Riki. He gives her a small smile, then tells Julia what he told Sana moments ago. The door opens again, and Oliver rushes in, stopping short when he sees Julia. Then he looks over at Vera and his face falls.

“Is she...”

“She’s okay,” Riki says, and repeats the information yet again.

They all crowd around Vera’s bed, gazing down at her quietly. Then little Emma says, “I miss Grandma.” And the tension breaks. They all look at one another with hesitant smiles.

“I miss my morning beach picnics with her,” Sana says.

“I miss waking up to her cooking,” Julia says. “And coming home to a house with her in it.”

“I miss having her tell me that I’m doing okay,” Riki says.

“I miss having her boss me around,” Oliver says.

They all laugh at that, nodding in agreement. “She did cross a few lines,” Julia says.

Oliver snorts. “Try breaking a few laws.”

They laugh again. “But that’s what makes her so...” Sana struggles to find the right words. “So very Vera.” They all nod.

“I miss you,” Riki blurts out.

It seems as though everyone stops breathing. “Sorry,” Riki says, “I don’t know why—uh, sorry, forget I—”

It spills out of Sana. “I miss you too.” She goes around the bed and flings her arms around Riki. “You shitty asshole—oh, sorry, Emma. Don’t ever say those words.”

“Shitty asshole,” Emma says, and Sana groans.

Julia gives Sana a mock glower. “You owe me at least a babysitting session for that.”

“You got it.” Sana turns her attention back to Riki, who’s gazing at her like she’s his salvation. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you did, and—”

“It was inexcusable, I know, I—”

“Shush and let me talk.”

Riki’s mouth snaps shut.

“What you did was really wrong, but I’m not in a position to judge. I’ve always been comfortable. My mom may be hard in some ways, but she provides me with financial stability, and I never truly appreciated it. And if I’d been in your position, with all that pressure bearing down on me, who knows what I might’ve done? I’m not saying it’s right, but... I can see why you did it.” There. It’s finally out, and once it’s off her chest, Sana feels so much lighter. Color seeps back into her world. For the first time, she no longer feels that same bitterness toward other people. Even her mother. She’s sure that her mom will manage to push her buttons soon enough, but for now, Sana thinks of her mom and sees that she is, in fact, lucky to have her as a mother.

The door opens again, and an Asian guy in his twenties walks in. He stops when he sees the crowd, and checks the number on the door. “Uh, is this where Vera Wong is?”

“Yeah,” Oliver says.

The guy stares at them. “Who are you?”

“We’re her family,” Julia says. “Who’re you?”

“Uh... I’m her son?”

Sana narrows her eyes. “The famous Tilly. We’ve got a lot to talk to you about how you treat your mother, young man.” It strikes Sana that Tilly is probably older than she is, but she chooses to ignore that fact for now.

Tilly’s mouth drops open. “It’s Tilbert, actually.”

“Hmm,” Julia says in a way that reminds Sana very much of Vera. “We’ll see about that, Tilly.”

···

Much later, Sana stands in the middle of Vera Wang’s World-Famous Teahouse with a massive paintbrush in her hand. Oliver has sanded down the walls to make them smooth and now it’s down to her to paint it the way she wants. A blank canvas just for her, and while Sana can still feel the familiar terror lurking inside her, waiting to pounce and overwhelm her, weeks of drawing in the sand have taught her that there is nothing to be afraid of, that even if she ends up coming up with the worst painting that was ever painted, it will somehow still be okay. Because she’s learned now that nothing is permanent. The waves will always be there to wash every mistake, every flaw, away. And like she’s taught Emma, sometimes mistakes can be turned into something beautiful.

There is now something sparking inside her—hope, and excitement, and the knowledge that she is doing exactly what she has always been meant to do. To use her paintbrush to create something beautiful and true.

Smiling, Sana dips the brush in the pot of paint and begins to draw.