The Loose Ends List(10)

“Hi, Maddie girl.” Gram sits on the edge of the daybed and hands me the applesauce. “I wanted to come talk a little before we go. I dropped a big bomb on you, and it’s been quite a whirlwind.”

“I thought you were going to outlive us all.” I sit up and eat a spoonful of applesauce.

“Well, you know I’ll always be with you, nagging you in your ear to stand up straighter and smile more and worry less.” She covers me with a blue blanket. “Who knows, maybe I’ll come back to life as something adorable, like a little chipmunk, and I’ll pop up when you least expect it to make you smile.”

“Now you know every time I see a chipmunk, I’ll think it’s you.”

“Good. I’ll be sure to scurry over next time you’re with that hunky boyfriend of yours.”

I set the applesauce bowl on the floor and turn toward Gram. “Okay, first of all, nobody uses the word hunky. And second of all, we broke up. It was so unimportant; I didn’t even bother to tell you. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I’m still a virgin.”

“Still a virgin, huh? I thought you people were doing it at thirteen these days.”

“No. That’s just Janie.”

“I’ve always said, if girls don’t get attention from their fathers, they’ll find it in all kinds of sordid ways. I sure did.” Gram gives me her naughty schoolgirl grin. “So why would anyone break up with my darling girl?”

“I broke up with him. I caught him kissing a sophomore at a party. He was lame anyway.”

“Bastard. I hope he was a bad kisser.” Gram pulls herself closer and rests her head on my shoulder.

“Let’s put it this way: He kissed like a jackhammer dipped in cheap beer.”

“The next one will be better,” Gram says. “I have a good feeling.”

I look out over the sea and the famous pink sands of Bermuda. On the horizon, all shades of violet and orange stretch up and fade together. The sky rounds over the ocean, and I feel like I’m in a snow globe, like our house on the cliff is alone in a tiny, fragile, glass-domed world.

“Snow globe moment?” I say to Gram. Our family of stargazers says that a lot.

“It’s funny, Jebby just said that a little while ago. But I always feel like I’m in a snow globe here. It’s my happy place, always has been.”

“So why are we leaving? Why wouldn’t you stay here in your bed and get nurses?” I flop back on a pile of pillows and Gram slides next to me.

“Because I have things on my Loose Ends list, silly, and time is ticking. And I suppose I’m a little afraid to die. It brings me comfort knowing I can go on my terms.”

“This is so hard, Gram.”

“I know, Maddie girl. But I’ve lost a lot of people in my life. I’ve seen how people can go on and on, long past their expiration dates. Your mom and Aunt Mary and Uncle Billy had to watch my mother suffer for years.” She shakes her head slowly. “The woman was too damn stubborn to go to a nursing home, so she festered in her apartment, and I was forced to take care of her. I’m not going to put you or myself through that hell.”

We’re quiet for a minute. Gram rolls onto her side and faces me.

“We had the opposite with your poor grandfather. He went so quick he didn’t have time to say good-bye. See? I’m the lucky one.” She shifts a little, and her protruding hipbone stabs my thigh.

“Wow, your breasts are perky.” She squeezes my boob. “Poor Janie inherited my big bosom.”

“Ow, that hurts, you old pervert.”

“Hey, Mads, one more thing. I want to make sure you understand that this trip is not about poor, dying Gram.” She looks at me, her face serious. “That is not what I want from all this. I want to have some laughs, and get you people out of your boring little lives. This is not about dying. It’s about living. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I get it. But I’m offended. Drinking chai at Starbucks and watching my friends argue over who gets the front seat is not boring.”

But the truth is, I don’t know if I get it. I don’t know if I get any of this.

The darkness gathers around Gram and me. We snuggle on the daybed and stretch out our snow globe moment as long as we can before we both fall asleep.





FIVE


WE’RE THE ONLY ones standing on the departure platform, and Dad won’t stop talking about how big the ship is. Gram had told us that they repurposed a former big-name cruise ship for these death-with-dignity trips and there’s a huge wait list, but they only choose a few people for each sailing.

“I can’t even imagine the square footage of this baby,” Dad says. “Although I could probably figure it out. Let me think.”

“Nobody cares,” Jeb says. Jeb’s always been weird, but I don’t remember him being this irritable all the time.

A nervous little man with a thick mustache and black plastic glasses scurries out to greet us. “Welcome to the Wishwell, everybody. Where is our guest of honor?”

Gram is still in the limo saying good-bye to Titi and her husband. How do you say good-bye to someone you’ve known for decades and are never going to see again? Titi was more than a housekeeper. She was Gram’s best friend. I don’t know how they’re finding the strength to do this.