The Loose Ends List(84)

But I trick them into leaving.

They won’t put the door back up.

“Maddie, it’s Dad. Come on, talk to me. I need you to eat some soup. It’s chicken noodle. Please take a bite.” He’s sitting on the edge of my bed with a silver tray and a basket of rolls. They sent a little flower in a vase and a pot of tea. I hate it.

“One bite, Maddie. Please.” I bite. I eat the whole roll smeared with an inch of butter. Or maybe it’s a centimeter. How would I know? I’m a stupid American.

“Good girl.” He kisses my forehead and leaves me alone.

I wake to the sound of someone shouting, “No, no, no, no.” It’s dark except for a dim light in the hallway. It was me. I was dreaming of Gram dancing the tango with Grandpa Martin. She wore a flower in her hair and a red dress, and Gloria was there in the background like a photo bomb. Their faces changed, and they were covered with tubes coming out of all their orifices.

Janie holds me tight and strokes my hair. “What is it, Maddie? Tell me.”

“Just a nightmare,” I say.

Enzo left behind his f*cked-up dream.



I wake in the morning to Uncle Billy reading a Scientific American and sipping espresso. “Hi, Sunshine. Trish says you need to change your feminine hygiene. Will you eat a doughnut for your handsome uncle?”

“Stop, Uncle Billy.” I shuffle to the bathroom. A fungus has invaded my teeth so I brush and floss. I eat half a doughnut to get rid of him, but he doesn’t leave. He recruits others.

Paige texts me another inspiring quote. I love her, but it’s not working.

Wes climbs into bed and turns on the TV. “We’re watching The Breakfast Club. You can watch or not, but we’re staying.” I roll over. I can’t help saying the lines in my head. It’s distracting, and it’s the longest movie in the history of movies. When it’s over, Uncle Billy shoves the rest of the doughnut in my face. “Finish it, and we’ll leave you alone.”

I finish in one bite.

I lie here, my body shaped like a C. The only tolerable moments are when I first wake up. I forget, just for a second, that this is happening. Then I remember, and it’s maddening every single time.



“Maddie, can I just examine you? I want to make sure you’re not dehydrated.” That’s all I need, perfect Ty playing doctor while Janie stands behind him gloating. He pokes me and tells me I need to drink or he’s taking me to the infirmary. I chug half a bottle of Gatorade and wrestle with my stomach to keep it down.

“Sips, Maddie. Tiny sips.” He’s nice, but I can’t take him seriously because he’s a pickle.



“Okay, Maddie. It’s time to stop the ‘woe is me’ and get up.” Wes steps through the doorless doorway, yanks off the covers, and pulls open the blinds.

“What the hell? You’re blinding me.”

“Billy and I are making a party for the staff and crew. We need all hands on deck.”

“I’m not going.”

“Look, I get it. You’re depressed. I once refused to leave my closet for the entire month of August because of somebody named Sasha. People tried to force me to feel better. But the only things that worked were time and distraction. Distract yourself. Stay busy. Count marshmallows, study frogs, whatever it takes. Time heals all wounds. It just does.”

“But this isn’t somebody named Sasha. It’s Gram. She’s gone, Wes. She’s never coming back.”

“I do not believe she’s gone,” he says, staring right into my eyes. “I felt her last night when Billy and I were sitting on the balcony. You’re going to think I’m nuts, but I felt her sitting there between us. I am telling you, Assy is still with us.”

“I know,” I say.

We sit awhile.

“Wes?”

“Yes, Maddie girl?”

“Was Sasha a guy or a girl?”

“Sasha was a guy in love with a girl, and I was a teenager with a lot of issues.”

“I see that.”

“But look at me now, about to be a daddy. The world is bizarre, Mads. In a good way.”



Bob texts me: Hi, Maddie. Wes says you’re feeling better. Can you meet me in Gloria’s wing? I’d love some help coaxing out the minister.

Bob gives me a pity smile outside Gloria’s cabin and gently pushes the slightly ajar door.

“Hey, wait,” I call out. “I don’t want to give him a heart attack.”

“He’s still in the car. We’re thinking maybe a fresh face will talk him into getting out.”

The room looks sterile and untouched. I walk through to the balcony where they’ve somehow managed to fasten an antique car to the beams. The minister’s head is sticking up behind the steering wheel. He’s a sad, scraggly-bearded statue of a husband pining away for his wife of sixty-two years.

“Hi, Minister. It’s me, Maddie.”

I can’t read his expression. I’m not sure if it’s surprise or indifference.

“Wes and Uncle Billy are throwing a party for the staff and crew tonight. They’re making me go. You should go, too. Gloria would want you there.”

The minister looks me in the eye and nods slightly. There’s an unspoken recognition, as if we are mutually bound by unrelenting grief. He turns his gaze back to the water, and I leave feeling just a tiny bit better for some reason.