Always, in December(100)

She pressed her lips to stop the sob, her control almost wavering, but nodded again. It was better, so much better, that he wasn’t trying to offer false promises, to tell her it would be fine when no one could know that. And she believed what she’d said to him, even though, right now, it was hard to think there was a time when she’d feel like that again, if the worst were to happen.

Max cupped her face, lifted it so that her gaze met his. “Josie,” he began slowly, and the look in his eye made her stomach twist painfully—she got the impression she was not going to like whatever was coming next. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.” He took a breath and her stomach started to churn again. “Something I should have told you last December.”

Before she could answer, her phone rang and she jumped, then scrambled for it. Her heart picked up speed and her palms felt immediately cold and clammy. It was three in the morning—there was only one reason Helen could be calling her right now. She answered on the third ring.

    “Darling, they’re taking her in for surgery—they found something, I don’t know…” There was a gulp of air. “She’s going in for a triple bypass now, we haven’t been allowed to see her first.” Max’s face seemed to drain of color to match how Josie felt. “It’s not…They haven’t said it means anything terrible, just that it needs to be done but, well, it’s open-heart surgery and she’s been bumped up the waiting list and…”

“I’m on my way.”





They got a taxi to the hospital. Helen was waiting outside for them, her face illuminated by the almost fluorescent lighting, her cheeks and nose pink from the cold, a blue-and-gold scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. Josie’s throat was too tight to speak as Helen smiled tightly at them both, then gestured inside.

They followed, and Josie dimly noticed that they were going a different way from last time. Everything seemed too bright, too clinical, as they walked along the corridors. “She’s in surgery now,” Helen said, answering Josie’s silent plea for information. “I can’t understand half the garbage the doctors are telling us and they refuse to stand still long enough to explain everything properly. She got bumped up the list for surgery is all I know—they needed to get her in there.”

Josie nodded, though she pressed her lips together to stop herself from speaking. That doesn’t sound good, is what she wanted to say, but she refused to let herself say anything that would make anyone worry more. Helen led them into the ICU waiting room.

    “It’s where she’ll be once she’s out of surgery,” Helen explained when she saw Josie looking around. Helen led them toward Josie’s grandad, who was standing so still it looked unnatural, staring at the glass door. It had no distinguishable handle anywhere, but was presumably where they’d be going once Memo was out. When, Josie told herself. Not if.

Josie sank into the nearest chair, preparing herself for the wait. Her body felt rigid, like it was locking in place to keep her together, and her mind felt strangely blank. At some point she was aware of Max coming to sit next to her, rubbing her shoulders reassuringly.

After a while, Helen stepped outside to take a call, though Josie had no idea who she could be speaking to right now. Max did two separate coffee runs, and at one point brought back several bars of chocolate. No one touched them, though her grandad gave him a weak smile at the thought, from his position closest to the glass door. Later, Max went out and reappeared with more painkillers and a bottle of water for himself, though adamantly refused to leave when Josie suggested he should. She was drifting in and out of bleary sleep, her head on his shoulder, when, toward nine in the morning, just as official visiting hours were starting, Helen jumped to her feet.

Josie sat up immediately, Max giving her hand a little squeeze, and watched as an older man with grey hair and a slight bulge at his belly walked toward them. He smiled at her grandad.

Smiled.

    Josie’s body started to melt, her hands began to tremble in relief, before the doctor even spoke to them.

Josie stood when he reached them, she, her grandad, Helen, and Max forming a tight little semicircle. “She’s OK?” Josie demanded.

“Well, she’s got a long recovery ahead of her,” the doctor said calmly, “and we need to keep her here for a few more weeks, but she came through the surgery OK, which is a really positive sign. She’s coming around now, if you’d like to see her.”

Josie’s grandad nodded, swallowed, and stepped toward the glass door ahead of the doctor. Josie went to him, squeezed his arm, and he managed a weak smile back at her. He looked terrible, and she hoped she’d manage to get him home at some point soon to eat a proper meal and sleep. She glanced back at Max as they were led away by the doctor, through the door, which he had to open with a special pass.

Max was rubbing his neck as if it were sore. “You go ahead, I don’t want to crowd her.”

Josie frowned. “Are you OK?”

He smiled then, though it looked a little stiff. “Yeah, it’s just this headache. I’ll go and get some fresh air and walk it off, and I’ll pick up coffee for everyone on the way back.” Josie hesitated, biting her lip. “Honestly, I’ll be fine. Go and see your grandmother, and I’ll be…”