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“Your heart isn’t so old.” I sniffed back tears.
She reached out to cup my cheek. “I know my days are numbered, Lyric. But I’m an old woman and I’ve had a good life. I knew true love, and when I pass on from this world, I’ll meet my Harry on the other side. But I want to go knowing you’re loved and taken care of.”
“I can take care of myself. Always have.”
She tskd me. “You can pay the bills, Lyric. You can put a roof over your head, food in your mouth, and give yourself orgasms.”
“Gran! I’m horrified!” I half laughed through my tears.
She ignored me. “But having someone love you…truly and unconditionally… Maybe you don’t need it to breathe. But I want it for you. I want you to know what it feels like to have someone care for your heart better than you ever could yourself. You need that, Lyric. You need someone to watch over you and make sure you remember it’s not you against the world.” She smiled fondly at me. “At least not the entire world.”
I gave up wiping at my face with my fingers and rifled through my purse, searching for a tissue. My grandmother just watched me knowingly.
“Stop staring at me like that,” I complained, hating she knew me so well. I dropped the tissue back into my purse then groaned, shoving aside my wallet and makeup bag and digging right to the bottom of my purse.
“What’s wrong?” Gran asked.
“My phone. It’s not in here.”
“You left it at home?”
I shook my head. “I remember packing it into my purse before I went to this one-year-old’s birthday party at Zeph’s parents’ place…”
Gran wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. I never understood why your generation are so hell-bent on having such elaborate parties for babies. It’s not like they understand what’s going on. All that fuss and time and money just for everyone to stand around and gawk at the sticky, poopy baby? Sounds awful.”
I laughed at her. “It was.”
“Save the money ’til they’re twenty-one when they can actually appreciate it.”
“Duly noted. Will wait until my kid is of legal age before doing any sort of fun celebration for her birthday. When she begs me for sleepovers, I’ll tell her Granny was a spoilsport. But in the meantime, I need to go find my phone.” I leaned in and kissed her again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“On your way. I’ve got soaps to watch.” She pointed at the little hospital TV mounted opposite her bed.
I left her to her shows and went back to the elevator, musing over everything she’d said. The doors opened, and I smiled at the little family already inside as I squeezed on with them. The woman was in a wheelchair, a brand-new baby on her lap, while her husband and maybe four-year-old son stood behind.
“Congratulations.” I tapped the button for the ground floor and then snuck a peek at the baby swaddled in pink. “Girl? She’s beautiful.”
The woman smiled proudly. “Thank you.”
The man opened his mouth to respond, but the four-year-old stomped his little foot. “She’s not beautiful! She’s ugly, and I hate her!”
The man cringed at me while patting the boy on the head. “Someone isn’t taking too well to being a big brother,” he said, like the boy couldn’t hear. “You’ll get used to her, buddy. And then you’ll love her so much.”
The boy wriggled away from his father’s condescending head pats to stand at the front of the elevator and out of his father’s reach. He crossed skinny arms over his small chest and glared at the elevator door, refusing to acknowledge his baby sister or his parents.
I felt for the kid. Change was hard.
The doors binged open.
The kid took off running, right for the hospital entrance, with the automatic doors.
And a busy main road on the other side.
“George!”
The man struggled to get out from behind the wheelchair and the bags piled up on the floor.
I was closer and not about to watch their kid get flattened.
