When Grandad had fallen ill earlier that year, I realized he could die. In that way, I didn't live in a fantastical dream world because he a seventy-nine year old with type two diabetes. 

In many ways, he was lucky to live that long without any trouble.

And yet his heart attack had made the fragility of human life all too real.

As I walked towards the reception desk with Yaya and Care, the weirdest sensation overpowered me. Now I understood the literal meaning of being beside oneself with worry and grief. It felt like I could observe everything from an objective distance rather than admitting it was happening to me.

"Are you okay, dear?" asked Yaya. "You seem awful quiet. Your stomach?"

"I'm fine," came my robotic response. 

Yaya and Care exchanged a worried look as my best friend snaked her arm around my shoulders. As we strode to the cardiac urgent care unit, a feeling of numbness came over me. Like I could shrug off any stress, no matter how drastic.

"Yes, hello." My voice sounded almost robotic as I approached the reception desk. "I'm the granddaughter of Theodore Kouris. I believe he suffered cardiac arrest?"

I felt nothing. I felt everything. It was all too much.

"Yes, he's in room 113," replied the nurse. "We're keeping visitation down to fifteen minutes."

"Is there anything I should know?" I asked. 

"Keep your visit positive and upbeat," she replied. "If you find he's falling asleep, best let him rest."

"Will he recover?"

"The doctor has spoken to Mrs. Kouris about that," replied the nurse.

"Okay, thank you."

I turned to Yaya and Care, who embraced me in a group hug. Why aren't I crying? Shouldn't I be crying? Something awful has happened, and I don't know if he'll be okay. 

Am I a monster?

"We'll wait in the café until you're finished, sweetheart," said Yaya. "Take your time."

"Thanks, Yaya," I said in a choked voice.

Care hugged me. "Anything you need...anything at all...please tell us."

"Thanks, sis."

Light-headed and oddly disembodied, I walked towards room 113. Once Mom caught sight of me, she bustled out of the room. She didn't give me a single second to fear our reunion. 

Mom wrapped me up in a genuine, warm hug and began to sob. "Oh, Jess dear! Thank God you're here."

I embraced her, all the tension leaving her shoulders. Thank God I didn't have to worry about placating her upset as well. 

"How is he?" I asked. "Will he make it?"

"The doctors are optimistic," said Mom as she pulled back, leading me away from the room. "The first twenty-four to forty-eight hours are key. Especially with his diabetes."

I nodded.

"They keep checking his blood sugar," she added. "They have him on oxygen and a machine to monitor his pulse and blood pressure. They have him on a saline drip, too."

I nodded. 

"It's a waiting game, Jess dear."

"Should I inform my school?" I asked. "Should I stay here?"

"Absolutely not," replied Mom in an emphatic voice. "You can come and visit him when you can, but you must not put your life on hold. Do well in school. Focus on your finals."

"Are you sure?"

"I am one hundred percent sure!" she said in a firm whisper.

"May I see him?"

"Of course, dear."

Wrapping her arm around me, Mom led me to his room. There he lay among a tangle of wires, his face a pale gray amid a sea of white. His eyes were closed and his breathing shallow. 

A flood of anxious tingles zinged through my body like little jolts of electricity. I approached his beside with trepidation, not wanting to stir him from his sleep like the nurse recommended.

"You can hold his hand," whispered Mom near my ear.

"I don't want to wake him."

"It's okay."

When I reached for his cold hand, I gave Grandad a gentle squeeze. His eyes half-opened and a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as he returned the gesture. When he spoke, his voice sounded raspy as his words came with labored breaths. 

"Hey, kid," he said softly. "Glad you're here."

My heart warmed at the sight of him, not only because I was relieved that he could talk and interact with me but also because I hadn't seen him in a week. We'd planned our visit for Sunday. Tomorrow. 

Time had dilated out of all proportion.

"Of course, Grandad." I smiled and covered his freezing cold hand with my other warm one. "They say you're going to be fine."

"Haven't kicked the bucket yet." 

Grandad gave me a faint smile, amused by his own gallows humor. His pained grin made my heart constrict upon itself, but I tried not to show it. Admiring his ability to make light of his misfortune, I realized it was a good sign, no matter how many disdainful clicking noises Mom would make.

"Hey, I'll be there when you go to prom," he said, his voice gravelly. "I'll stand there with a proud smile when you graduate from high school. You hear me?"

"You better be!" I said, forcing a smile. "Meanwhile I'll stay here with you."

"Young lady, don't put your life on hold for me," he said. "If I hear you failed or missed tests because you were here with me, I'll give you the verbal thrashing of your life."

A forced chuckle fell from my lips. Grandad could growl like a bear--that much was certain--but he would never touch a hair on my head, which was why he could get away with that joke.

"A heart attack is serious, but not fatal." He reached for Mom's hand and gave her a squeeze. "Guess your grandmother is right. I need to eat less burgers and ice cream."

"Fewer burgers, dear."

"Just making sure you're paying attention," said Grandad with a wolfish grin. "Now go tell Jess what you told me."

"Ted, dear!"

"Life waits for no man, Carmel Kouris."

Grandad gave her the kind of determined look that told me he had the strength of will to heal. Meanwhile she gazed on him with tender affection. 

In some ways, it was cute. For once, they didn't exchange steely glances or nag one another to within an inch of their lives. I wondered how long it had been since they'd simply enjoyed each other's presence.

"And you, young lady!" Grandad squeezed my hand. "Go study and make me proud."

"You bet, Grandad."

He released my hand as his eyes started to droop shut. Mom gestured towards the door, and we gave Grandad the space and quiet he needed to heal. 

"Would you care for a coffee?" she asked me.

"Would I ever!"

"All right, dear. Let's go to the café." She stifled a yawn. "I could use a cup of tea myself."

We walked in silence together, but for some reason it didn't hang heavy this time. Mom reached out and took my hand, giving it that odd, unconscious twisting motion so characteristic of her.

As we entered the café, we found Yaya and Care sharing a slice of cake over two mugs of steaming brew. Yaya wrapped her arms around Mom while Care hugged me. 

"Thank you for bringing her, Angela."

"Of course," said Yaya, "that's what families do."

"You're such a wonderful young woman," said Mom to Care as she embraced her. "Your yaya must be very proud of you. We all love you, Care dear."

"I love you too, Aunt Carm." She paused, searching for the right words. "Will Uncle Ted make a full recovery?"

"That's what we hope, dear." Mom pulled back from the hug. "The doctors think he'll go home within the week."

"That's great news," said Yaya. 

Care placed her hand over her heart. "Such a relief!"

"Before we sit with you, would you mind if I have a cup of tea with Jess?" asked Mom. "We have some things to discuss."

"Of course," said Yaya with a kind smile. 

Mom bought me a large black coffee and a cup of green tea for herself. Before we sat down at a table on the far end of the café, she wiped down the table and chairs with sanitizer wipes.

"Can't be too careful, Jess dear."

We sat across from one another as Mom dipped the tea bag up and down, pondering how to begin. I knew what this was about. Sort of. But I hadn't the foggiest clue how it would end.

"Jess dear, I was wrong."

Now that hit me in the solar plexus like a punch from a prizefighter. I gaped at her, not daring to believe what my ears had heard. I scoured my brain for an appropriate reply--one that sounded neither too snarky nor too subservient--but I came up empty. 

Instead I stayed silent and waited for her to continue. 

"When your grandad had that heart attack..." she began, silent tears forming in her eyes. Real ones. "When it happened, my whole world came crumbling down."

I pursed my lips and nodded, knowing exactly what she meant.

"After you'd gone, it left a gaping hole in my life." Mom shook her head. "I knew I'd have to let you go, Jess dear, but I dreaded the day. I wasn't ready... And then Ted grabbed his arm..."

She covered her hands with her face and sobbed in silence, her shoulders shaking. These tears came from her soul. Ones she couldn't stop. 

"He means everything to me," she cried. 

"Me too, Mom." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "He's the father I never had."

Taking a deep breath to calm her emotions, Mom lowered her hands. I knew this was no act to manipulate me because she cared so damn much about what others thought of her. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have been caught dead making a scene in front of a bunch of strangers at a hospital café. 

This was real.

I scooted over to the chair next to her and rubbed her back the way she'd held me so many times in the past while I'd dealt with my own pain. She dried her tears with the clean napkin I'd handed to her. 

For once, fate had swapped our roles. 

"Thanks, Jess dear." She took a deep, ragged breath. "You can go to California if you want. But I'm not sure you should."

"Mom..."

"Not for me," she insisted. "But for you. And for all the pain that might bring to the surface." 

Mom reached out and held my hand tight.

"You can leave us if you want," she said. "But please, Jess dear. Think twice before going there."

"I don't want to leave, Mom." I squeezed her hand back. "I want your respect."

"But I do respect you, dear."

"Do you though?" I asked. "Do you really?"

"What do you mean?"

"When I make a decision, please try your best to accept it." I bit my lower lip with nerves. "When I say I don't want to be an accountant, accept my choice."

She nodded. 

"When I say I need to visit my friends at Holy Cross to find myself," I said, "please don't force me to lie. Of course guys are gonna be there. It's co-ed. I can't not hang out with people because a guy is present. Don't consider calling campus police because I don't call every five seconds." 

She nodded.

"And please, for the love of God, when I finally get the courage to introduce you to the man I love, don't crucify him when he ticks all the boxes except one," I said with in a firm but kind tone.

"I'm so sorry, Jess dear!" cried Mom in a pained whisper. "I just didn't want you to get hurt. Ever again. By anyone."

"I know, but..."

"When you came to us, broken and bruised, I swore it'd never happen again."

I stared at her in silence.

She wrapped me up in a warm embrace. "I love you so much, Jess dear. I never want any man to break your beautiful heart."

"He won't."

"I thought if I stood firm, you'd understand." She paused. "But I shouldn't have pushed you away. I'm so very sorry."

"Thanks, Mom."

Fuck, I really needed to hear that.

"I know you mean well, but I'm an adult now." I pulled back from the hug. "One day I'm going to make mistakes. My heart will break...like it did today before I knew Grandad would make it."

Mom took another ragged breath. 

"But that's part of life, Mom." I shrugged. "You can't protect me forever."

"I know, Jess dear."

"You have to let me go," I said with a kind smile, "so that I can grow up and be the woman you prepared me to be."

She gave me a sad smile and took a sip of her tea. "I tried my best. I didn't always get it right, but I always tried my best."

"I know." I returned her smile. "You did a really good job, you know."

Her eyes brightened. "You think so?"

"Yeah...I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Jess dear."

Mom drank the rest of her tea. "Before we go back to the others, I have one more thing I'd like to say. Not to control you. Just as a helpful piece of advice."

Uh-oh!

"Oh yeah?" I braced myself for impact. "What's that?"

She paused. 

"God's love finds us in many ways," she said. "But true love and true friendship? That's rare indeed."

I nodded.

"If you can count one true friend for every finger on one hand, consider yourself lucky." She gestured over to Care and Yaya. "That girl? She loves you like a sister. And so does Yaya."

"Yeah, I am really lucky," I said with a smile.

"Yes, you are." Mom gave me a kind smile. "Don't ever forget that."

I grinned and took a sip of coffee.

"Grandad and I will always love you," she said. "I've said it once, and I'll say it again. You always have a home with us. Always. Even if we fight. Even if we need a break. Always."

Now tears formed in my eyes. "Thank you, Mom. I was so worried about Grandad!"

"We're not out of the woods yet," she said, "but we've found the path."

"Thank God."

"One more thing..."

Double uh-oh!

"If you think this young man could be the one," she said in a firm voice, "tell him how you feel. Life is painfully short. And as far as we know, we get only one go on Earth."

I smiled. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"It means that as long as you, Grandad, or I can say Grace at our table," she said, "young Eric will always be welcome."

I leaped up and gave her the biggest, most genuine hug of my life. "Thank you, Mom. I know that wasn't easy to say, and it means a lot."

"You're welcome, Jess dear. Now let's go back to Grandad with Yaya and Care."

Sometimes it took tragedy in one's life to understand what truly mattered: the strength of love, friendship, and family.