The Sweetest Thing (17 page)

I’m watching the clock. Eight. One hour until Ethan.

In another half hour, the food is gone and the cake has been reduced to a mashed-up pile of icing and crumbs, but the deejay is still going strong. He’s finally escaped the 1940s, and there are kids all over the dance floor. Even Father Crowley is out there, and I can’t believe it, but he’s doing the Electric Slide. Frightening. I hope this ends soon; I need to head home and get myself ready.

Lori and I stack chairs to give everyone the hint. That’s when I hear the first few notes of “Mamma Mia.” Oh God, we’re doomed if they start playing ABBA; Nanny will have the deejay play all their greatest hits by the time she’s done.

As I stack another chair, I turn and witness my grandmother getting funky with Mr. Roz. Oh, that’s just wrong.

I turn and pick up another chair, bend over to pick up a crumpled napkin. Someone screams.

“What in the . . . ?” Lori says.

“Lilian!” a man yells. That’s Nanny’s name, and the 174

world clicks instantly into a weird sort of slow motion. I turn and see a pair of stockinged feet sticking out from the middle of a group of people who are all hunched over and staring at something on the floor. Nanny. She’d taken her shoes off to dance.

“Call 9-1-1!” someone shouts, and through a space in the crowd, I see her. Mr. Roz and Growly are on their knees. A man pushes Roz out of the way and starts to do CPR. He’s pushing on her chest so hard.

“Sheridan.” Lori is next to me. But I walk away from her and move, zombie-like, to my grandmother.

My heart is beating too fast. I can hear it throbbing inside my head. “What is it?” I ask. People are talking, but I can’t understand a word. The man pounds on her chest.

There’s her face. It’s gray. Her eyes are closed.

I don’t know how much time passes before two men in dark blue uniforms run into the hall and order everyone to move. One of them listens for a heartbeat and feels for a pulse, and the other gets out those crazy paddles like they use on TV. “Clear!” he yells, and sticks them on her chest.

Her body pops in an unnatural way. The paramedic presses on her wrist again.

“I’ve got it!” he says. In a matter of seconds, there’s an oxygen mask on Nanny’s face and she’s lying on a gurney.

There’s a commotion at the stairs, and my father runs in, dressed in his chef whites.

“How long has she been out? Mom! Mom!”

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I can’t make sense of what they’re saying. Roz, Dad, and Growly follow the paramedics as they wheel her out.

But I can’t seem to move. “Sheridan.” Lori’s voice cuts through the sound of my heartbeat. Her parents already went home, but I hear her call them, telling them what’s happened.

Lori hangs up and leads me outside. We watch them push Nanny into the back of an ambulance. Dad stands back, hands on his head. He looks completely freaked. Panicked.

We catch sight of each other. He walks up to me with purpose.

“Sheridan. Can you get a ride to the hospital?”

Lori answers for me. “My mom’s on her way. We can follow.”

I am shaking. He grabs me by the shoulders.

“Calm down, Sheridan. We need to keep it together; Nanny needs us.” He hurries back into the ambulance, and I watch as they pull away in a blur of lights and sirens.

Soon, Lori’s mom drives up, and we get into the car. I hope she drives fast. My eyes close tight.

Don’t let her die, God. Don’t let her die! Don’t you dare let
this be part of your plan.

We are in the buttery yellow waiting room of the hospital in Grand Rapids. I was born here. But now I stand at the window and look out at the black night.

There are no stars in the sky. Just clouds. It’s nine thirty.

176

And Ethan is waiting for me by the lighthouse. But I can’t call him. The hospital has no signal, and I’m afraid to go outside, to leave Nanny. They rolled her in over an hour ago and still no word.

He will be angry. Probably break up with me. Even after I explain, I have a feeling that he won’t care. He’ll finally understand what I told him. I am a part of this triangle. A part of this family. And when you take away one side of a triangle, it falls. At least for now, I need to be here to hold up my side.

A doctor comes through the swinging doors at one end of the room and walks to my father, who has been sitting in a chair, completely silent, looking down at his lap. They talk. After a few minutes, the doctor leaves, and we all clam-ber over to Dad, afraid to hear what he has to say. Lori grabs my hand, and I watch the worried faces of Father Crowley, Mr. Roz, and Lori’s mom.

“What he say?” asks Mr. Roz. I’ve never seen him upset about anything. But Nanny is his best friend.

“She’s having a bypass. It’ll be a while before we know anything for sure.” I feel terrible for even thinking about Ethan breaking up with me when my own grandmother is on an operating table, the chest that’s caught me in so many squishy hugs cut open, her heart in some random doctor’s hands.

Please don’t let her die. Please don’t let her die.

“Bonnie.” Dad turns to Lori’s mom. “Why don’t you 177

take the girls home?” He looks at me. “You were spending the night, weren’t you? So that you could go to South Bend?”

His voice is razor-sharp, and his eyes are strange. Like he knows it’s a lie. But there’s no way he could have found out.

The only other person who knows is . . . Jack. He wouldn’t have told on me.

“I want to stay here,” I say. There’s no way I can leave Nanny.

Dad’s eyes blaze at me. Lori takes a step back. “Sheridan, can I have a word alone with you?” he says.

He walks down the long white hallway and stops by a water fountain, then bends down, gets a drink. When he stands again, I can see clearly that he is fuming mad. And I am afraid.

“Just tell me the truth. Were you really planning on going to Notre Dame this weekend?”

Gulp. “Yes.”

“For the entire weekend?”

I stare at my feet. Obviously, he knows something. If I keep lying, chances are things will get worse for me. So I take a deep breath.

“We were also driving up to Chicago.”

“And why is that?” Dad says in a creepily calm way, while his face turns brilliant shades of red.

“Because . . . Mom is going to be there.”

“Excuse me?” His eyes look wild now.

“Yes. I found her. Well, Jack helped. She has a bakery in 178

Sault Sainte Marie.” Funny, but I feel myself calming down as the facts pour out of me. “They told me she is going to a cake competition in Chicago. This weekend.”

“Sheridan.” He shakes his head and smiles, but not in a normal way. More like in a pissed off, what-did-I-do-to-deserve-a-kid-like-you way. “Just what is your plan here?”

Something shifts inside me as I watch his mouth move.

For once I am in control, able to see things clearly. My breathing is normal; my heart isn’t pounding inside my chest. But I am angry. And the anger is so deep and wide and high that suddenly I can’t see anything else.

“You knew where she was al along. You’ve always known.”

He sputters. I’ve thrown him. “It’s my responsibility to know the whereabouts of your mother.”

“It’s your responsibility to tell me where she is if you know I’m looking for her. You
owe
me that much.” I cross my arms. “It’s funny. You don’t want her in my life. But you don’t want anything to do with me, either.” My face is burn-ing hot.

He staggers backward, just a little. His top lip is quiver-ing. I take a teensy step backward, too. He looks like he might blow.

“I
owe
you?” A manic chuckle erupts from his mouth. “I owe you? Really, is that so?” He lifts a finger and points it directly in my face. “When . . . ? How . . . ? You . . . You un-grateful little brat. Everything . . . I mean, everything I have done since the day you were born has been for you. And you 179

pay me back by planning secret trips to find that woman?”

His voice is loud, and I glance to my left to see if anyone in the waiting room heard him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. You owe
me
that much.” I gulp again. “Don’t you dare do anything to sabotage this show. I will not have it. And don’t you dare tell me I don’t want anything to do with you. There isn’t a minute that goes by that I don’t think about what she put you through and what I can do to make up for it.” His voice shakes and his eyes are glassy.

The anger in me is now oozing out of every pore. My chin is up. My eyes are set, my voice even.

“You want me to just forget about her? Like you have?” I take a step closer, propelled by this wave of courage. “Well, I won’t. She said she wants to come home; that she misses me.

You are wrong about her.”

He stands a little taller, sticks his hands in his pockets, takes a deep breath, then turns away from the waiting room.

“Right.” He sneers. “The cards.
When
did that last card come?”

I shake my head and look away. “Fourteen,” I mumble.

“When!” He blasts the word into the hallway. Everyone is looking at us now.

“When I turned fourteen!” I yell back at him.

He smirks. “She was ready to come home, right? Two years ago? So where is she, Sheridan?” Now he’s looking at me with pity. Like I’m a total loser. “Leave it alone, I’m warning you.”

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I laugh. He’s got to be kidding me, talking to me like this, thinking he can squash my hope like it’s an ant on the sidewalk. “You’re wrong, Dad. You’re wrong. She hurt you—I get that. But that was between you and her. She loves me, and I will always be her daughter. She’s coming back.

And that’ll work out well for you, since it’s your turn to leave now.” These words slip out of me so easily, and they cut him like a big fat meat cleaver. I can see it.

“Go home,” he says over his shoulder, shaking his head and walking toward the stairwell door with a red exit sign over it.

I watch him, wondering if he’s going to turn around, come back, hug me and tell me he’s sorry. Say that he’ll never leave me. But he keeps walking, and he flings open the door with so much force that it slams into the wall.

And I am left here in the hallway. Alone.

181

Lori’s mom drives me home so that I can get my duffel bag. It’s all packed, sitting on my bed, ready for our trip to go find Mom. I grab it, disgusted, not believing the mess I have made of everything.

We ride to Lori’s house in silence. My plan is blown to bits. Dad hates me. And if I lose Nanny now, I might as well curl up and die. Tears build in my eyes, and they drop one by one down my cheeks.

On the big comfy chair in Lori’s room, I sniff and wipe my face with the back of my hand. We turn on some music and wait for the phone to ring with an update on Nanny.

I text Ethan to tell him what happened, but he doesn’t respond. I dial his number and get voice mail. Lori makes a bowl of popcorn and brings in a couple of drinks, but I’m not hungry. My gut is filled with worry.

The doorbel rings, and Lori turns down the CD player.

We hear a deep voice from the living room. I close my eyes.

Don’t let it be bad news.

In another minute, there’s a quick knock on the bedroom door. My palms are damp; I can’t breathe.

“Come in,” Lori says. Jack peers around the side of the door. He puts his hands up in surrender.

“I come in peace,” he says.

“Get in here, idiot.” Lori has a way with words. Jack’s got on his Geronimo’s T-shirt, and the scent of coffee enters the room with him.

“Hey,” he says, facing me but looking at the carpet. “I heard.” He peeks up quickly, then lowers his eyes again just as fast. “How is she—”

“She’s going to be fine,” I say, cutting him off.

An uncomfortable silence settles in the room. I never thought it would be like this with Jack.

“Here, I brought you this.” He smiles with his jaw clenched and holds out a small, rectangular box wrapped in metallic pink paper and stuck with a pink bow. “I wasn’t sure I’d still be invited to the party. Or if you’ll even have one. So I thought I’d give it to you now.”

“There weren’t going to be any presents.” I sound so rude. “But thanks,” I add, too late.

He raises his eyes and stares at me full on. “Look, I’m 183

trying to cheer you up.” He tosses the box on the bed.

“Chill, dude. No need for drama,” Lori interjects, trying to break up this horrible tension. I sit up and reach across the bed to grab the gift.

“You want me to open it now?” And again my words are like sandpaper on skin, rubbing him raw.

He’s silent, then he sighs. “Open it, don’t open it—whatever. Do whatever the hell you want; you always do anyway.”

And before I can process his words, he’s gone and the front door slams.

“Jerk!” I shout, as if he can hear me. Though I suspect I am the real jerk here. I can’t help myself, though. I feel like an empty bag, crumpled up and thrown away.

“Oh, come on,” Lori says. “Stop it.”

“What?” I shrug.

“Sheridan.” She rolls from her back onto her stomach and faces me. “I love you like a sister, but you can be a real moron.”

I settle myself back into the soft chair cushions, way too tired to argue with that statement. “And why am I such a moron? Please enlighten me.”

She laughs. “Because you are as blind as a freaking bat.

That boy is so in love with you. He’d do anything for you.

He does do anything for you.”

“Right.” I pick at the blanket draped over the arm of the chair. “Well, I do stuff for him, too. We’re friends.”

“Oh, you bring him coffee in the middle of the night and 184

do his chem labs? You spend hours searching the Internet for his AWOL mother? You go for a run whenever he calls, just because you want to be with him—even though you hate to run?”

“He hates to run?”

“See, what did I tell you? Blind as a bat.”