Page 17 of Who We Think We Are

W hile Jake is out getting all Grandad’s favorites, Kate sends him a text to stop at the Dutch delicatessen to pick up a few of Oma’s favorites, too.

That might spark something in him . Kate pulls up a chair they stole long ago from the dining room and has a talk with Grandad while she squeezes his hand.

“Listen, Grandad, I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but I’m going to believe you can.

I love you, and I need you. I know you want to go and be with Oma, and you can later, but I need you now.

Maybe I should feel guilty about trying to keep you here, but I don’t have that luxury right now.

You’re a person who lives up to your responsibilities, and you still have a responsibility to me.

I cannot lose you and Oma so close together.

I really and truly don’t think I can take that.

Give me at least a few months. Please! I am actually begging you, Grandad. I need you to stay here!”

Kate starts crying, so she stops talking for a while.

“Wake up, Grandad!” Kate decides that physical contact might work and starts rubbing his feet.

When Jake walks into the room, loaded down with grocery bags, Kate is giving Grandad a foot massage. Jake raises his eyebrows and cocks his head.

“I’m trying to get Grandad to wake up.”

Jake dumps the bags on the floor and shrugs off his coat. “Good idea. How about I rub his feet, and you get close to his head and tell him it’s time to wake up.”

“OK. Grandad, wake up! It’s time to wake up! Grandad! Grandad!” They keep this up for about five minutes. Then, finally, Grandad stirs.

“Grandad! Hi! Are you thirsty?”

He nods.

“Jake, get him some of that cranraspberry juice. He loves that.”

Jake hands Kate a glass of juice with a straw in it. She puts the straw in Grandad’s mouth, and he sucks up the whole glass.

“More?”

He nods again. Jake refills the glass, and Grandad drinks about half of it.

Grandad pulls his head back a little and whispers, “Enough.”

Kate says, “Do you want some of Oma’s dark chocolate?”

Grandad nods. She puts a piece in his mouth, and he sucks on it, and then another, and another.

He says, “I’m not supposed to have too much.”

Kate is crying now. “Welcome back! The doc says you can have whatever you want. What do you feel like?”

“Soup,” says Grandad.

“Tomato?” asks Kate. Grandad nods. Jake reaches into one of the bags and pulls out a can of tomato soup and milk, mixes it in a mug, and puts it in the microwave.

“Not too hot. You want grilled cheese with that?”

“No,” croaks Grandad.

Kate feeds him a few spoonfuls of soup, then he says, “That’s all. I’m so tired.” He closes his eyes and falls back asleep.

“That was a good start! Thanks for getting everything, Jake.”

They put all the groceries in the minifridge and cabinets and wash the dishes. “I’m going to stay with Grandad, but I guess we have to let Dad and Mother know. Would you be willing to put together a twenty-four-hour watch again? Dad, Mother, you, me, and Kelli, if she’s willing.”

“Not Suze?” asks Jake.

“No, not Suze. She is really, really mad at me.”

Jake stays silent but keeps looking at her.

“Because I didn’t tell her about Oma and about why I went to the Netherlands. She won’t want to participate, but I think she’d want to know about Grandad. Could you please call everyone? And Jake …”

“I know. You appreciate me; you just have a hard time showing it,” Jake says and gives her a quick kiss.

“That’s right. Thanks. I don’t want anyone coming tonight. Grandad needs his rest, and I’m going to sleep on the cot. I still have jet lag. People can visit after breakfast. You can stay if you want, though.”

“I’m going to go and make the calls from home and have a late dinner with Kelli. I’ll text you after I’ve let everyone know.”

“On second thought, don’t call Dad until first thing in the morning. Even if we ask them not to, they’ll come tonight, and Mother will make a scene. Does that make me a horrible daughter?”

“Yes. At least that’s what your mother would say. I say you’re practical and smart.” He pulls out the folded-up cot from the corner of the room, opens it, and makes the bed for Kate.

“Thanks, Jake. I don’t deserve you, but I’m glad to have you.”

“Good, because you’re stuck with me.”

“I’ll bear that in mind! G’night, Jake.”

“Good night, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you. Try to sleep, OK?”

“OK. You too.”

When Kate wakes up early, Grandad’s eyes are open. He’s staring up at the ceiling. Kate gets out of bed, stands by Grandad’s bed, and holds his hand. “Good morning, Grandad.”

“Hi, poppet,” whispers Grandad, then he starts coughing.

“I’ll get you some juice.” She gets a glass of cran-raspberry juice, plops in a straw, and holds it up to his lips. Grandad drinks two full glasses.

“Good job. What do you want for breakfast?”

“The usual.”

Kate presses the call button on Grandad’s bed, and a few minutes later, an RNA rushes in. “Is everything OK? How’s your grandfather? Oh, he’s awake! Good morning, Mr. Hathaway! How are we this morning?”

“He had two glasses of juice and wants oatmeal and a soft-boiled egg for breakfast. Can you bring it here? He’s not up to eating in the dining room.”

“I’ll take care of that, but first, the nurse needs to see him, check his blood sugar, and give him his insulin. Do you want any coffee, Mrs. Hathaway?” asks the RNA.

“No coffee. I’ll make my tea here, thanks.”

“Brown sugar,” whispers Grandad.

“What’s that, Grandad?”

“I want brown sugar and cinnamon on my oatmeal.” Grandad starts coughing again.

“We know exactly how you like it, Mr. Hathaway,” says the RNA. “The nurse will be here shortly.”

The RNA leaves, and the door opens immediately, but it isn’t the nurse. It’s Jake, out of breath. “Oh, good, I beat them. Be careful; a hurricane is going to blow through here any minute. I tried to call you, but your phone’s turned off.”

“Mother didn’t take it well?”

“Not a bit.” Turning his attention to Grandad, Jake says, “Good to see you awake this morning, Grandad.”

At that moment, the door flies open, and in blows Kate’s mother, followed by her dad.

“Grandad!” cries Luella, rushing to his side and grabbing his hand. “Thank God you’re alive! No one told us anything! Kate didn’t even have the decency to call us herself. She delegated it to her husband! We should always be the first to be called!”

“Hi, Dad,” says Doug, taking Grandad’s other hand. “How are you feeling? It’s good to see you awake.”

“I’m OK, Doug,” croaks Grandad. “Luella, please stop shouting and leave Katie alone.”

“I’m not shouting!” shouts Luella. “We’re so upset and worried about you. And Kate, I see you’ve deigned to make an appearance in Vancouver in the middle of your world travels. How convenient that you are here to control everything when Grandad is near death.”

“OK, OK,” says Stephen, the nurse, who has slipped into the room. “Everyone needs to calm down. Mr. Hathaway is not feeling well, but he is not near death at this moment, and he needs peace and quiet. Now, everyone must leave the room while I care for him.”

As they all shuffle out of the room, Stephen says, “Kate, I’ll need you to stay. The rest of you, go on now. If you want, there’s coffee and muffins in the dining room.”

When everyone is out of the room, Stephen says, “I don’t really need you here, Kate, if you want to go with them. I just don’t like the way your mother treats you.”

“Thanks, Stephen. You’re my hero. I’ll stay here with you and Grandad.”

As Stephen takes care of Grandad, Kate folds up the cot, wheels it to the corner, and arranges chairs for the family to visit. “Thank you for protecting my poppet, Stephen,” whispers Grandad. “She’s a tough girl, but it was great to see.”

Stephen and Kate laugh, and Kate kisses Grandad on the forehead. “Good to see your humor is intact, Grandad. When they come back, I’m going to go home and take a shower and get changed. Mother behaves better when I’m not here.”

“I’ll close my eyes, and she’ll think I’m asleep.”

“Or you could actually sleep,” says Stephen.

“I’ll tell everyone they can’t talk if your eyes are closed.

” Giving Grandad his meds, he continues, “Now, Mr. Hathaway, it’s good that you’re awake and drank some juice.

You gave us quite a scare. But you are by no means out of the woods.

You’re very weak. You must eat and drink and take your meds, even if you don’t want to.

Right now, your life literally hangs in the balance. So, are you going to cooperate?”

“I’ll try.”

“This is not the time for trying. Just do it,” says Stephen as an RNA brings in Grandad’s breakfast. “I’ve got to go and take care of my other patients. Kate is going to feed you so you can eat in peace before we let the others back in. Right, Kate?”

“Right.” Thank God for good nurses , she thinks for the thousandth time. Kate feeds Grandad, and he eats about half of his oatmeal and the yolk of his egg.

“Way to go, Grandad.”

“I’m so tired.”

“I’ll stay with you till you fall asleep.”

When his breathing slows, Kate dims the lights and slips out the door.

Kate walks out to the dining room and, remaining standing, addresses Jake, her dad, and her mother. “I’m going home to shower and change. It’s your turn, right, Dad?”

He nods.

“Grandad is asleep, so if you …”

“If his eyes are closed, we must not talk,” says Luella. “That rude male nurse told us. I mean, what’s the point of even being here if we can’t visit?”

“You can go home if you like, Luella,” says Jake. “I can drop you off at your house.”

“No, I’ll stay. Doug and Grandad need me,” says Luella. And then, looking directly at Kate, she adds, “But thanks for thinking of me, Jake.”

“Alright then. I’m going to go home with Kate. See you two later,” says Jake, taking Kate’s hand. “Let’s go, honey.”

After they walk out the door, Kate says, “Thanks, Jake. You and Stephen are both my heroes today.”

“Not that you need one!” Jake squeezes Kate’s hand.

“That’s right!” Kate chuckles. “But it is nice sometimes.”

At home, Kate has a long, hot bath and takes a nap. When she wakes up a few hours later, Jake and Kelli are sitting at the kitchen nook playing canasta. Seeing them, Kate feels a pain in her heart that is so powerful she gasps. “Grandad and Oma’s favorite card game,” is all she manages to say.

Kelli jumps up and says, “Wanna play, Mom? We just started.”

“I don’t think I can,” says Kate, tears rolling down her face. Somehow, she feels more raw with this scare with Grandad than she did with Oma. Now she knows they can really die.

“Yes, you can,” says Kelli. “You can cry all the way through if you want. Dad and I both shed a few tears already. We’ll play to honor Oma and Grandad.

Now, sit down and join us. You don’t want to go to Grandad’s on Grandmother Luella’s shift anyway, do you?

This’ll be cathartic. Dad, you reshuffle the cards, and I’ll make tea. ”

As Kelli makes tea, she says over her shoulder, “Paige is coming home tonight.”

“What? Who told her to come home?” Kate looks at Jake and Kelli. “Grandad is not going to die, and she needs to focus on school!”

“No one, Mom. She decided herself. She’s working on her dissertation right now and said she can do that from here.”

“Alright, I guess. It will be nice to see her and for her and Grandad to have some time together. Kelli, you seem to have taken control of this family!”

“Yes, I have. And don’t you forget it! But I will be a benevolent dictator.” Kelli laughs and gives Kate a hug from behind.

After giving them all a cup of tea and putting out a plate of Oma’s favorite cookies, stroopwafels, Kelli says, “OK, let’s play cards, and in Oma’s honor, show no mercy!”

Kelli is right. Playing canasta is cathartic. They laugh, they cry, and Kate enjoys being with them. It is a much-needed interlude.