Early Spring 01 Broken Flower (28 page)

We entered Grandmother Emma's room. Mr. Ganz was seated on her left, a long yellow pad in his lap. Grandmother Emma's bed had been raised so she was in more of a sitting position. I couldn't remember ever seeing Grandmother Emma in her bed. She had a bed as big as the one I slept in, so I imagined she looked small in hers as well, but in the hospital, without her elegant clothing, her hair neatly brushed and pinned, she looked aged and tiny. She looked like she was shriveling right before my eyes.
"Morning, Mrs. March," Felix said. "I brought Jordan as you asked," he told her.
Grandmother Emma nodded and looked at me and then at a chair. Felix understood immediately and brought the chair up to the bed so I could sit beside Mr. Ganz to talk with her. Then he stepped back and left the room.
"You know that expression, no moss gathers on a rolling stone?" Mr. Ganz asked me, smiling.
"No, sir."
"It means as long as you're busy and you keep moving, nothing will slow you down and cause you to fail. That's your grandmother here," he said, nodding at Grandmother Emma. Her mouth was twisted so I couldn't tell if she was smiling or smirking, happy or angry about what he said. "Another woman her age would be thinking about herself and getting better, but she's thinking about all her business needs and about you," he added.
I looked at Grandmother Emma. Me?
"She's worried that now you have no one to look after you. The truth is," Mr. Ganz continued, "your grandmother never gets surprised because she anticipates the good and the bad. She's been doing that for as long as I've known her and that's a long time, Jordan."
Grandmother Emma made a guttural sound and moved her left hand.
"All right, all right. She wants me to get right to it," he said. Right to what? I wondered.
"Your grandmother has always been a realistic person, Jordan. She never sugarcoats anything. I tell her that's because she's a Sagittarius and she has to tell the truth come hell or high water."
Grandmother Emma grunted and tried to say something. She slapped the bed with her left hand in frustration.
"All right, all right, Emma. I'm getting to it. Your grandmother realizes that she is seriously incapacitated and her recovery, any recovery, will take a long time and may not be a full recovery."
Again. Grandmother Emma grunted and made a guttural sound.
"Won't be a full recovery." Mr. Ganz corrected. "Consequently, she is aware that she will not be able to do the things for you she had intended to do and she is concerned about that.
"She is also well aware of the fact that your father won't be able to do these things as well."
"His friend Kimberly is still there helping him," I interjected.
Grandmother Emma made a sound that resembled a long "N0000."
"Your grandmother is aware of that. She actually found out all that last night," Mr. Ganz said. "That's part of what I meant by a rolling stone gathers no moss. No moss grows under her feet, or bed in this case," he added. "This has reaffirmed her belief that you won't get the attention and care you deserve.
"Of course, you know your mother can't do much for you right now either. S0000," he said, leaning back in his chair, "your grandmother would like you to live with her sister. Francis, for now."
I knew I looked stupefied, shocked, and even somewhat foolish with my jaw dropped.
"Your great-aunt Francis lives alone on a nice property. I've been there from time to time for legal matters. You'll go to school and back on a bus and I'll see to it that you have all you need, medically and otherwise."
'But. .Daddy wants me to live at the mansion with him and Kimberly," I said.
Grandmother Emma grunted.
"Your grandmother has arranged for this alternative," Mr. Ganz said. "I'll be meeting with your father today, too, and he will be in agreement about it. Believe me," he added, and exchanged a knowing look between himself and Grandmother Emma.
"I never saw my great-aunt Francis," I said.
"Nevertheless, she knows all about you and Ian and always has," Mr. Ganz said.
"Will Ian come live with her, too?"
"Someday, maybe. Maybe," he emphasized. "Mama might be upset about it."
I was sure Grandmother Emma was trying to laugh. Mr. Ganz smiled, too.
"No, we're pretty confident your mother would prefer this arrangement to the one your father was suggesting, Jordan."
"Daddy will be very upset," I insisted.
Grandmother Emma reached for Mr. Ganz with her left hand. He seemed to understand every look she gave him and every move she made, even her distorted words.
"Why don't we say this then, Jordan? If after I meet with your father, he is opposed to the
arrangement, we'll forget about it. OK?"
I looked at Grandmother Emma. Even as sick as she was, she had that same light of confidence in her eyes. She was still the queen.
I nodded.
"Good," Mr. Ganz said. He smiled and brushed my hair with his left hand. "You'll be fine, Jordan. Everything will be good for you from now on."
I looked at Grandmother Emma. Her eyes shifted and she lay back.
"Your grandmother's tired now, Jordan. The doctor didn't want us to have too long a meeting. Say good-bye to her for now," he told me.
I nodded and stood up. Grandmother Emma turned toward me. Then she lifted her left hand, her good hand, and I reached out to take it. Her eyes looked teary, and in fact. I saw the first drop sneak out the corner of her right eye. She held my hand tightly. I glanced at Mr. Ganz, whose eyes looked full of amazement.
And then I leaned forward and I kissed her on the cheek. Her tears flowed freely then.
And
I
couldn't hate her for not mailing out my letter.
I couldn't hate her for anything.

I suppose there are so many reasons, even after I listened to Ian and wrote my story, that I still think of my life as being a dream. Smiles and laughter, grimaces and tears swirl about in my memory like ingredients tossed into a blender. It's hard sometimes to separate the happy times from the sad. So often after I had left the March Mansion, I would start to laugh about something Ian and I did or Mama and I did, or Daddy and I and Mama and Ian had done tooether, and then I would stop suddenly, and for reasons I couldn't explain, begin to sob.

I'd have a good cry and then I would stop, take a deep breath, and go on doing whatever it was I was doing, just as if I had closed the cover of a photo album, cried over a lost loved one, and put the pictures back in some desk drawer. That album is tied with four ribbons, each one representing a different good- bye.

Actually, that's what I remember most clearly, the good-byes. That's what haunts me now and will haunt me forever, because what I did learn, what I can tell Ian with that same certainty that characterizes all the things he told me and tells me, is that good-byes were times when I became most like Grandmother Emma, when I saw what was real and what was true and when I knew I could no longer be a child because I couldn't pretend or deny or ignore any of it.

"Nothing," Grandmother Emma once told me, will make you grow up faster than facing reality, than walking right up to it and putting your nose against it. It's like going uphill and losing the grip on your mother's hand and your father's hand. You start to fall back, finding yourself all alone. You have no choice but to become a woman, to climb the rest of the way on your own. There will be no more medicine to slow it down, no more fairy tales to help you avoid what's hard or ugly or painful.

"But don't be afraid of it," she said. "Embrace it and give yourself a name. You had one name as a child. Now you have another."

I was too young to understand, but after my good-byes. I began the journey toward that
understanding, the journey that has taken me here.

My first good-bye was good-bye to Daddy. When I left Grandmother Emma and Mr. Ganz at the hospital. I felt numb. Ian would tell me I had shut down and frozen just like some overloaded computer. Something or someone would have to unplug me and then plug me in to start me over.
I wasn't looking forward to arriving and facing Daddy and Kimberly so I was happy to learn that he had been summoned to Mr. Ganz's office. Nancy told me it was a meeting Daddy had asked for himself almost the moment Grandmother Emma had left in the ambulance. He had called Mr. Ganz from the hospital that day, apparently, and set everything in motion, only the direction it took was a surprise even to him, maybe especially to him.
I was upstairs in my room working on another letter to Ian when Daddy and Kimberly returned. I didn't hear them come in, but not long afterward. Kimberly came to my room to tell me my father wanted to see me in my grandmother's office. I followed her downstairs.
Daddy looked so awkward and out of place sitting behind Grandmother Emma's desk in his wheelchair that I almost smiled. Because of the way the large desk wrapped around him, he looked like a child pretending to be an adult. He fumbled papers and documents as if he really didn't know where anything belonged or what anything meant. It was the first time I could remember him being so nervous, too. He was fidgeting while he waited for me to enter and take my seat. Kimberly stood awkwardly, too, not sure if she should sit on the settee, stand beside him, or just leave.
"Well, Jordan," Daddy began, sitting back and trying to look relaxed, "it seems you've already visited your grandmother and spoken with Mr. Ganz in the hospital."
I nodded and then in almost a whisper, said, "Yes."
Daddy glanced at Kimberly and then he leaned forward to put his arms on the desk. "Once again, even in her feeble condition, in fact, your
Grandmother has taken the reins of control here. I must admit she had to have done a good deal of preparation, anticipating the day when something serious might happen to her. I suppose
I
have to. . .we have to respect her for that.
"My mother," he said for Kimberly's benefit more than for mine, "is rarely, if ever, taken by surprise, even by her own body."
"Not much excitement and fun in that," Kimberly said.
Daddy grunted and looked down at the desk. "You know," he continued, "that your grandmother would like you to live with your great-aunt Francis. She's right to assume I have too much against me right now to be a good father. Between my therapy and all this paraphernalia I have to contend with and develop," he said, waving his arms as if there were wires and cranes everywhere, "I will be quite involved and not have as much time for you as I should."
When did he ever? I wondered, but dared not ask.
"The way your grandmother has constructed the finances kind of puts me in a box, too, Jordan. She's been a busy little bee, arranging all sorts of trusts and devices to funnel the funds we all need and there are preconditions for almost everything. My mind is still spinning after my session with her attorney, and I know something about business. I can't imagine what someone else would do," he added, looking again at Kimberly.
All Daddy knew about business was how to fail at it, I thought, but again, slipped those words under my tongue.
"The truth is. I've given her plan a great deal of thought and I have to agree for now, at least, it makes sense. You'll attend a good school, have plenty of space at the farmhouse, be of some help to your greataunt, who has no one but herself, and you'll have all the support you need financially. All of your medical needs are arranged as well, and your great-aunt has been filled in about all of that."
"Did Mr. Ganz say anything about Ian?" I asked quickly.
Daddy stared at me a moment and then shook his head. "Ian is in for a long haul. He did a very bad thing and people have to be certain that he would never do anything like that again. I know you admire your brother very much, but between what he was doing with you and what he did to Miss Harper, he falls somewhere between Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."
"Who are they?"
"You'll find out yourself. Maybe," he said. 'Now. Kimberly and I have discussed all this already and we've decided we would come visit you regularly. You know exactly where Great-aunt Francis lives, right?"
"Not really."
"Well, she's on that farm my father found for her years ago. She has someone who maintains everything for her, a black guy slightly younger than her. He lives with his own family on the property, his daughter and her daughter, a girl five years or so older than vou. I think. In short, you'll be well cared for there and have lots of company.
"Believe me," Daddy said, suddenly full of anger and pain, "if I weren't sitting here in this wheelchair, none of this would be happening. I'd challenge everything your grandmother's arranged and I'd take control of this family as I should have years ago," he declared, slapping the desk. His eyes did look full of frustration, and even, for a short moment, flooding with tears.
"Take it easy, Chris," Kimberly gently advised him.
He cleared his throat. "If you like. Kimberly will help you get what you want together for your move."
"I'm going now?"
"Soon," he said. "Grandmother Emma arranged for you to go see your mother tomorrow. Felix will be taking you. Day after that, he'll drive you to Greataunt Francis. There's not much time now before a new school year starts for you, and you need to be settled in. adjusted, and comfortable. Those are your grandmother's exact words," he concluded.
He lowered his head for a moment. Then he sighed deeply and sat up again. "You'll be all right," he continued, smiling. "We'll bring you back here for visits time to time as well, and next summer we'll all go to the cabin at the lake, maybe. You'll do fine, just fine."
"Sure you will," Kimberly said.
The eagerness with which she wanted to get rid of me didn't slip past me. I glared at her, putting on my Ian face and turning my eyes into Ian eyes. It worked. She looked away quickly.
"What about when Mama gets better?" I asked.
"When and if that happens, we'll see," he replied. "But for now, you've got to concentrate on yourself. You can't dwell on your mother and your brother or me."
"Your father's right, Jordan," Kimberly said.
"You don't know what's right," I said. "When my mother gets better, you'd better go away."
"Jordan!"
"It's all right, Christopher."
"It's never all right to be disrespectful. Kimberly's only been trying to help make things easier for you. The truth is she would have been a better companion than your great-aunt Francis, but there's nothing I can do about it and that's that," Daddy said, growing irritable.
"You're getting tired, Christopher," Kimberly said. "You should take a rest."
"Yeah, right. Anyway," Daddy said, looking at me, "that's the way it is and will be. When anything makes you upset or unhappy from now on, blame it on your grandmother," he told me, and started to wheel himself out from behind her desk.
Kimberly rushed to help him. "Fie needs a nap," she told me as she pushed him along.
He was staring down at the floor, his shoulders turned in, his head lowered.
She looked back just before the doorway. "This is why it's better for you to do what your grandmother wanted," she threw back at me, and pushed Daddy out of the office.
I sat there staring at Grandmother Emma's desk and I thought maybe she was right.
That night I began to arrange my things, the things I would take with me. Nancy came up after dinner to help me. I didn't want Kimberly doing it. Nancy knew everything by now and while she worked, she told me she would probably leave the March Mansion soon herself.
The following day, just as Grandmother Emma had arranged from her hospital bed. Felix took me to Philadelphia to set my mother in the hospital. He told me Grandmother Emma had set things up so that he could take me there from time to time, even from Great-aunt Francis's home.
I wondered aloud if Ian would ever visit Mama again. Felix didn't say.
Although Mama's nurse, Mrs. Feinberg, was happy to see me. I could tell from the way she greeted me and looked at Felix that she already knew about Grandmother Emma. Considering all the bad news that had fallen around and over me, she was eager to tell me something good.
"Your mother has made a little progress with responses," she said. "It's too soon to tell what it will mean, but her doctor is very happy about it. Every little change looks big to us now. But don't get your hopes up too high too quickly, Jordan. People often take years to make significant progress."
Mama didn't look any different to me when I entered her room, but I immediately noticed that her hand wasn't opening and closing the way it had. It was still.
"Go on," Mrs. Feinberg urged. "Talk to her."
I sat beside the bed. Mrs. Feinberg and Felix stood in the doorway watching. I decided Mama had to know every-thin because that might get her angry and excited enough to force her to get well.
"Hi, Mama," I said. "I've come back to see you and I hope you're getting better and that you'll get better even faster because until you are. I have to go live with Great-aunt Francis. Grandmother Emma had a stroke and is in the hospital and Daddy, who is in a wheelchair, can't take care of me properly."
I hesitated, glanced back at Mrs. Feinberg and Felix, who both smiled at me and then left, and then I turned back to Mama and took her hand into mine.
"That old girlfriend of Daddy's, Kimberly, is in the house with him now. They told Mrs. Clancy, the nurse, to leave, and Nancy is going to leave soon, too. I don't like Kimberly being there. You've got to get better, Mama. You've got to, and you've got to come home. Please, Mama. Please get better."
I couldn't stop the tears from flowing freely down my cheeks now. They dropped off my chin and some fell on my hand and hers. I lowered my head against her arm and I sobbed for a while.
Suddenly, I felt Mama's hand tighten slightly around mine. I was sure of it.
I
raised my head quickly and looked at her. She wasn't turning her head toward me and her eyes were still fixed on nothing, like the eyes of a blind person, but I was still positive she had squeezed my hand. She wasn't doing it now, but she had. She had.
"Mama? Mama, can you hear me? Will you get better? Mama?" I squeezed her hand gently and I rose and kissed her cheek. "Mama, say something. Mama!"
"Easy, dear," I heard. Mrs. Feinberg returned to the room and put her hand on my shoulder.
"She squeezed my hand," I said. "Mama squeezed my hand."
"Did she?"
She smiled and we looked at Mama's hand in mind. It wasn't squeezing anymore, but I knew it had. I was so sure.
I could see Mrs. Feinberg wasn't convinced.
"Why don't you believe me? You said she was getting better.'
"There were some small reactions to stimuli in her legs, honey. It's going to be a while yet before we can tell you anything, okay? You just be a good girl and do what you have to do."
"Her hand moved. It did," I said firmly.
"Okay. Don't cry." She wiped my cheeks with a tissue. "Sit and talk. Go ahead," she urged.
I sat again and stared at Mama and then, after I caught my breath. I did talk. I told her everything that had happened in as much detail as I could. I told her I had gone swimming. I told her about my work, and then I let slip the bad news about Ian. I just forgot.
"He didn't mean it," I said. He was just so angry and he didn't like what she had done to me. So you see," I said, "you have to get better and come home now so we can go get Ian and bring him home, too. They'll listen to you and know Ian wouldn't hurt anyone again."
I sat there, staring at her.
Felix came to the door, "We've got to start back. Jordan," he said.
I nodded and stood up. I still held her hand. "Mama. I have to go. Tomorrow. I'm going to Greataunt Francis, but I'll return to set you. Grandmother Emma promised I would. Don't worry about me. I take my medicine every day, and I'm okay, but I know Ian must be very unhappy. We need you, Mama."
I leaned over and kissed her cheek, and then I felt it again.
I felt her hand tighten on mine.
And
I
knew that she would come home someday.
Someday, we would be together again, her. Ian, and me, at least.
I've got to tell Grandmother Emma, I thought, as we left the hospital. If she knew this, she wouldn't have me sent away to live with Great-aunt Francis. She would know all would soon be well.
"I want to see my grandmother, Felix," I said when we got into the car. "Please take me to that hospital. Please, Felix."
"I'm supposed to bring you directly home again," he said.
"We can stop there on the way, can't we? Please, Felix," I begged. "I have to see her one more time. I have something very important to tell her. Please."
"Okay, okay, we'll just stop for a few minutes. You're right. It's on the way anyhow," he said.
I sat back, full of hope.
Hours later, Felix drove into the hospital parking lot and opened the door for me. I saw people getting in and out of their cars look our way, probably wondering. Who is this little girl who has a uniformed chauffeur taking her around in a limousine? Is she a princess?
Hardly.
I
thought. I'm as far from being a princess now as anyone could be. Even if a handsome young prince fell in love with me, he'd find out about my family and he would hurry away. Who could blame him?
Felix took my hand and we walked into the hospital and went directly to Grandmother Emma's room. Her private nurse was standing outside her door talking to another nurse.
"Oh," she said when she saw me. "I didn't know you would be visiting your grandmother tonight. I would have brushed her hair and put her into one of her nicer nightgowns
"That's not important," I said. Even I thought I sounded like Grandmother Emma. "I'm not here for a party."
She recoiled as if I had tried to slap her face, and then she grimaced at Felix, who shrugged.
"Well, excuse me. You're right. This isn't a party. For anyone," she added.
Slowly.
I
entered Grandmother Emma's bedroom. There was only a small lamp lit next to her bed and she had her eyes closed. I quickly stepped up to her and touched her left hand. Her eyes opened and she looked at me. I thought she was smiling even though it was hard to tell because of the way her lips remained slightly twisted.
"Grandmother Emma, I just came from visiting Mama. A wonderful thing happened while I was talking to her. She squeezed my hand. She really did. She's going to get better and sooner than everyone thinks. I just know it. When she does, she'll be very upset if I'm not home. She won't want me to be living with Great-aunt Francis. You've got to change everything and make Daddy take care of me now. He can do it. I'll put up with Kimberly until Mama comes home and then you'll come home soon, too, and everything will be the way it was. Please," I said, and I waited to see what she would do.