“Ari?” she asks, all tentative.
My throat tightens; my heart thrashes in my chest like a fish dying to get back into water. “Yes?”
The whole lunch table stares at me; I know they’re thinking what I’m thinking.
Something with Bubbie.
Something terrible.
I imagine it all day, every day, pretty much. There’s just no way to picture this world without her, and so I worry about it constantly. Because how will I know what to do when she’s gone?
“You, um, have a delivery. In the main office.” Ms. O’Leary smiles, and it eases my mind a little. So maybe it isn’t something terrible. “Come with me.”
I look at everyone at the table, and then turn around and see Jason sitting behind us, clueless as ever, trying to eat the cafeteria corn on the cob as if he’s in some kind of contest.
“Kay.” I nudge my head in her direction. “Come with me.”
She doesn’t hesitate at all; she just gets up, and we walk with Ms. O’Leary.
When we get to the main office, we see a giant teddy bear sitting on one of the chairs, with a red bow around its neck.
“This, um, arrived for you, Arianna,” Ms. O’Leary tells us, with a crinkle of a smile.
I walk over and read the card.
To keep you company until we’re back at camp.
Love, Golfy
My insides turn to slush.
“Wow.” Kaylan laughs, reading over my shoulder. “That is literally gigantic. And why did he send it to school? And wow. Just wow.” She sits down in the chair next to the bear, puts an arm around it, and leans over as if they’re going to take a photo together.
“Kaylan, stop.” I burst out laughing. It’s just too much to see her sitting there like that.
“You can come pick this up at the end of the day,” Ms. O’Leary says, “but you should probably get back to lunch now. Happy Valentine’s Day, girls.”
Kaylan and I walk back to the cafeteria, and she puts an arm over my shoulder. “Well, this is certainly a Valentine’s Day to remember.”
“Yeah.” I sniffle. “I guess it was too late for him to cancel the order?”
“Probably.” Kaylan shrugs. “You never told him you don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day?”
“Um.” I think about it. “I guess it didn’t come up? I can’t remember.”
Back at the lunch table, Kaylan tells everyone about the big bear.
“That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” M.W. says. “For real. Ditch Jason and marry Golf Guy or whatever.”
“It’s Golfy, for the zillionth time.” Kaylan shakes her head.
“Okay, guys, enough.” I smile. “Honestly, this is crazy. I don’t even know how I’m going to get it home.”
After school, Jason finds me at my locker and asks if I’m taking the bus.
“I can’t,” I tell him. “I need to, uh, bring something big home, so my mom is coming to get me.”
“Huh?” he asks. “Did we need to do a major locker cleanout before break? No one told me.”
“No, it’s hard to explain.” I look away, praying he’ll leave soon for the bus. I don’t want to tell him about the bear. I don’t want to alert him to the fact that he missed Valentine’s Day, even if I don’t really celebrate it.
“All right, well, good luck.” He smiles, touching my shoulder for a moment and then pulling his hand away. “I’ll come say hey later.”
“Cool. Sounds good.”
My mom comes to get me, and thankfully she doesn’t ask too many questions about the big bear.
“That may need to go down to the basement eventually,” she says. “But keep it in your room for now.”
“Okay.” I pray she stops talking and I can hide the bear from Gemma and my dad and pretty much the rest of the world.
When I get up to my room, I type out a quick text to Golfy
Me: Thnx 4 the bear
Golfy: Ur welcome. It was 2 late 2 cancel. Kinda funny, no?
Me: Kinda
Before I shove it into the back of my closet, I snap a picture of the bear and send it to the camp girls.
Me: Look what showed up at school today . . .
Alice: Ummm??? What??
Zoe: #soconfused
Hana: who sent that?
Me: Golfy. Dying.
Alice: OMGGGGGGGGGGG
Hana: sooooo crazy
Zoe: Seriously. WHOA.
Me: soooooooo excited about our sleepover lovies
Alice: sammeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Zoe: ditto
Hana: +1
Finally, we reach the last day before vacation.
It seems like I never needed a break more than I need this one.
Jason finds me at my locker between classes and does that thing where he leans up against it like a boy in a teen movie, all over-the-top and silly, and I crack up so loud half the hallway turns around to look at me.
“There’s a watch thing over break,” he explains. “It’s at the coliseum and it’s supposed to be really cool. Do you want to come?”
“Um.” I grab my math book off the top shelf. “Like we just walk around and look at watches? Or what?”
“Or what,” he repeats, and laughs. “No, I mean, I don’t know exactly what it is. But it’ll be different watches and designers and stuff and I think it’ll be awesome, plus it’s so close to us. I mean, how could I miss it?”
“You couldn’t miss it.” I shake my head, trying as hard as I can to take him seriously. “Sure, I’ll come.”
“You’re the best,” he says. “See you later. I’ll come over tonight and we can have a bonfire in your backyard and burn last semester’s papers?”
“Cool. Perfect.” I crack up, but it actually sounds delightful.
I’m collecting a few other things from my locker and putting them in my backpack and then throwing out some other stuff when Kaylan runs up to me, all out of breath.
“Oh my gosh, you’re never going to believe this.” She pants. “Cami’s mom mixed up the flights. We’re actually leaving today, not tomorrow, in like two hours. I’m leaving school right now to go home and pack and head to the airport. I won’t even have time for the pedicure I wanted. I’m freaking out right now!” She shakes her head, still out of breath. “And you never helped me with the bathing suits!”
“That’s crazy! How did she mix the flights up?” I ask, trying not to laugh at this madness.
“I don’t know, but I have to go. I love you. Have an amazing break. Text me every day and keep me updated on Bubbie and all of that. And I love you.” She stands up on her tiptoes to kiss me on the forehead, like she’s my mom, but it’s actually pretty sweet.
“I love you, too, Kay. Have so much fun.” I kiss her back and she starts to walk away. “Please text me funny stories. Or jokes. Even the unicycle one,” I yell out to her, hoping she can still hear me.
“Arianna. Please. Quiet in the hallway,” Ms. Phipps says, shaking her head like I’ve just tried to declaw a cat right here. It’s the last day before break; you think she’d chill out a little bit.
“Sorry.” I roll my eyes to my locker so she’s not able to see me.
I spend the rest of the day imagining where Kaylan is on her journey. I miss her already and she’s not even really gone yet. She’s only at the airport now.
I miss you, I text her after school when I’m sitting in my den under a blanket feeling that oh so wonderful all-of-break-stretched-out-in-front-of-me feeling.
I miss you, too, she writes back. Now you know how I felt when you were at camp. But you didn’t even have your phone. Hahahahahaha (evil laugh LOL)
Ari: Ew. ☹
Kaylan: Smooches forever Ari
Ari: Smooches right back Kay-kay
Kaylan: Don’t forget to snoop on my dad when he visits!
Ari: Ok!
“Ari,” my mom calls, coming into the house from the garage. I know she’s probably carrying five bags of groceries all on he
r own but I really don’t want to get up and help her. I’m just so cozy. I wonder if that makes me a bad person. “Ari, are you home?”
“In the den,” I call back.
“Come help me with the groceries, please. And then we need to get over to Bubbie and Zeyda’s. Get your shoes on. And please make sure the water is turned off for the washing machine. Oh, and grab that bag of clothing donations, too.”
How many instructions can one mom give one daughter in a three-second period? I’ll never know the answer. It seems to grow and grow with each passing day.
“Ari, now. Please. We need to get going.”
Well, my cozy-under-a-blanket, all-of-break-stretched-out-in-front-of-me feeling only lasted for fifteen minutes. But it was a good fifteen minutes.
“Coming,” I yell back.
I help her put the groceries away and I do all of the other stuff and then I sit down at the kitchen table and take a sip of seltzer.
“Ari, I need to tell you something before we go over to Bubbie and Zeyda’s.”
My heart speeds up like I was running a marathon even though all I was doing was sitting right here, doing nothing.
“What?” I ask, praying that it’s nothing bad or that it’s only something a little bad.
I need to update Kaylan on the God thing. I know I believe in God. It’s not even a debate. But I still want to have some more soul-searchy talks about it. Not only for the list, but because I really do like talking about it.
“Bubbie’s on oxygen permanently now. It’s not a big deal. It’s going to help her feel more awake and alert and make her more comfortable, but I wanted to warn you.” She pauses, adjusting her glasses on her nose. “It’s alarming when you first see the tubes in her nose. I know you saw her with it in the hospital, but it feels different at home, somehow. At least that’s what I think.”
I nod. “I read an article online about how some people in the city go to these oxygen bars, for fun, even if they don’t really need it. So, like, how big of a deal can it be?” I ask, telling myself it’s nothing and that we could all be walking around with oxygen if we wanted to.
“Interesting. Okay. Well. We can see for ourselves when we get there.” She looks down at my feet. “Okay, your boots are on. Come on. Let’s go.”
We drive silently to Bubbie and Zeyda’s and it takes forever for the heat to come on in the car. It’s still freezing when we arrive.
We get inside the apartment and take off our boots and hang our coats on their coat tree and then we find Bubbie and Zeyda back in the den in their recliners. Bubbie has an aqua-greenish-bluish oxygen cord thing in her nose and the big metal tank makes a whirring sound that seems louder than it needs to be.
Mom was right. It is alarming.
Maybe if she had a clear cord, it wouldn’t be so frightening. But this aqua-blue-green thing doesn’t work for me.
I sit down on the walker next to the recliner.
“You like my new look?” Bubbie’s words come out slurred but her sense of humor is still there. It’s like the whole “laughter is the best medicine” thing. Since her sense of humor is so awesome, she’s pretty much giving herself her own medicine. That’s gotta work.
“You look fab, Bub.” I smile and kiss her on the cheek. “How can we help?”
Zeyda gives us a half-shrug, half-head-tilt thing that seems to say everything and nothing all at the same time. But I know what he means.
My mom is busy in their kitchen, organizing things and throwing things away and moving stuff around, and it’s hard to say if she’s really getting anything accomplished. She looks busy, though, and she feels busy, and sometimes I wonder if that’s the most important thing to some people.
“I’m just happy you’re here,” Bub mumbles. I make a note in my head to ask someone about this later.
We sit there quietly for a while after that and Bubbie grabs my hand. Her skin is wrinkly and tired-looking and her nails are painted a pale purple.
She’s still Bubbie, though. Just a more tired, more worn-out version of herself.
I start to realize that we’re always the same selves we’ve been—just different versions. I expected that as soon as I turned thirteen I would change into a different person—this teenage person who went out on dates and was way more serious and busy and important.
I don’t know why I thought that; I just did.
But we don’t become different. We change, that’s true. But deep down, we’re still the same people we’ve always been.
“Do you feel like you’re seventy-five?” I ask Bubbie.
She shakes her head. “I still feel nineteen. In my mind. My body—that’s another story. But deep down, nineteen. I think I’ll feel nineteen forever.”
I think about that for a second. “Why nineteen?”
“It was a good age,” she tells me. “But I did cry on my nineteenth birthday. I was sad to be leaving my teens, my last birthday as a teen . . . you know.”
“And I just had my first birthday as a teen,” I say, even though she clearly knows that. Sometimes it’s hard to talk to sick people. You say things that are obvious because you’re scared of the quiet. This is Bubbie, the easiest person in the world to talk to, and yet I feel a little shaky talking to her right now.
“You need to stretch it,” she says. “Just stretch it all. Make it last.”
“You always tell me that.” I smile.
“I know. Because I’m right.” She nod-smiles at me. “I’m always right.”
She laughs, and I laugh, and that’s when I know that even though she’s hooked up to oxygen and her words are slurred and mumbled—she’s still Bubbie.
My main goal for now, and the future, and for however long I can keep it up, is to make sure she’s still Bubbie. I don’t know if it’s in my control, but I’ll do whatever I can, whatever it takes to make that happen.
27
KAYLAN
Dear Ari, I’m writing you on the back of this airplane napkin to solidify our thing about God on the list. I don’t know if you’ll ever see this note. I may die. This plane is so shaky and so turbulent and it feels like we may almost flip over. You know that thing about looking at the flight attendants on a plane to know if you’re in danger? Well, I’ve been doing that and for real, they look scared. I may die. And if you find this note and I’m dead, know that I love you beyond words. And know that I believe in God, 100%, so you can check that off the list. Okay?
ARIIIIIIIII I’m so freaked out.
I wish I’d bought the wifi on the plane so I could be texting you instead of writing you a note you may never see.
Xoxooxxoxoxoxoxo your bffffffffffff Kaylan
“Holy cannoli, that was insane,” I tell Cami when we’re on a turbulence break. I’m not convinced we’re out of the woods yet with the bumpiness but at least it’s stopped for a bit. “For real, do you think we’re going to die?”
She shakes her head, sort of laughing. “Kaylan, come on! I fly all the time. On my flight to Paris two summers ago, I honestly thought we were going to die. We had to make an emergency landing somewhere I’d never even heard of. But then we were back up in the air and everything was fine. Honestly, I think you’re just a nervous flier because you don’t fly as often as I do.”
I’m not sure if her words are comforting or reassuring or condescending or what. Probably a combination of all of those things. I sip my soda and push my seat back a little and close my eyes and pray. How did we ever even debate the belief in God thing? I mean, I’m totally, completely in the believe category and there’s no doubt about it.
Cami’s still going on and on about all the flights she’s taken, including the time she took a helicopter from the city to the Hamptons for some kind of event and it was just so amazing and worth it and there was no traffic and on and on and on.
“Do you believe in God?” I ask her, because I’m genuinely curious but I also really want to change the topic and talk about something else. Cami’s the kind of girl who doesn�
�t get offended when you change the topic mid-conversation. I think it’s because she can truly talk about anything at all.
“Yes, totally,” she replies. “I mean, how did all of us just get here? And the world and stuff? I believe in science, of course, but there has to be more than science. There has to be some, like, big, magnetic, incredible force guiding us and helping us and overseeing everything. Don’t you think?”
I nod. “Yeah, I do. I am entirely in the believe category but I was just curious about what you were thinking on the subject.”
“I try really hard to understand people who don’t believe in God,” Cami goes on. “I want to hear them out because I want to get everyone’s beliefs, so I listen to them, but the thing is, I don’t honestly get it. Ya know?”
“Yeah, it’s like, how can you not believe in something bigger? Doesn’t that feel so scary? You’re just out there, floating, all on your own? Who do they turn to when they’re freaked out from major turbulence?” I crack up.
“Or when someone is sick and all they want is for that person to get better?” Cami says softly, and I start to see this other side of her. This deeper, more sensitive side that I’ve honestly never seen before. This whole other Cami is surfacing on this plane and I’m not even sure who she’ll be by the time we land.
Maybe all it takes is being seventy thousand feet in the air (or whatever we are right now) to be your true, ultimate self. The definition of Be Me.
“Totally. Or what about on a roller coaster when you’re so freaked out and you just pray and pray you’ll survive?” I bulge my eyes. “Roller coasters are seriously the best and the worst all at the same time.”
“Roller coasters don’t scare me,” Cami says, all matter-of-fact. “But can I admit something to you?”
I nod.
“Sometimes I’m still afraid of the dark. And sometimes I’ll pray to God when things are really dark.”
“Like at night, you mean? Or dark times? In life?”
“Both. Definitely both.”
We’re quiet after that, even sleeping a little bit, probably because we’re so exhausted from all the turbulence stress. The plane finally lands and we make it to Turks and Caicos in one piece.
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