Taking a deep breath, Charlotte’s shaking fingers reached for the curtain and she gently pulled it to the side and let herself into the cubicle. Steve followed.
Charlotte’s mom and dad stood when she entered, their glassy eyes silently thanking her for getting there so quickly. Her mom, Heather, held Charlotte in a tight embrace, her thin frame trembling. Her burly father, Ian, squeezed Charlotte’s shoulder, just as Steve had done.
Two nurses quietly worked around Abuela, who lay still, her eyes closed, her skin ashen. Various leads snaked out from underneath the pristine sheet, attached to beeping monitors. Her grandmother’s silvery white hair clung in thick chunks to her head and Charlotte suppressed an urge to hunt down a comb and brush. Abuela would be horrified being seen in public without her usual coiffured perfection.
“Is she conscious?” Charlotte whispered.
Her mother nodded. “She’s just had something for the pain.”
“What happened?”
“We’re not sure, but from what we can gather she was out in the back garden and had a fall,” her father said.
“She’s broken something?”
“They suspect her hip.” Her dad took a deep breath and his eyes met Charlotte’s. “They’re worried her heart may have caused the fall.”
“Oh jeez.” A desire to sit down overcame her but she resisted. “Why?”
Her mother gently rubbed Charlotte’s arm. “When the paramedics arrived she told them about a fluttery feeling in her heart just before she fell over.”
“Heart attack?” The intensity of her headache increased.
“They’re testing for all kinds of things. They’ve taken blood and X-rayed her hip. They’ve even done a CT scan in case she hit her head when she blacked out. A cardiologist is on the way.”
“Oh god.”
The nurses left the cubicle and Charlotte found a spare chair and moved it next to the bed. The lines in Abuela’s skin looked deeper, the circles under her eyes blacker, her lips paler. Thoughts of losing Abuela crowded in on Charlotte and she swatted them away, refusing to give in to the negativity. Until the doctors knew for sure what had happened, Charlotte had to think positively. She couldn’t bear the alternative.
Sliding her fingers between her grandmother’s, Charlotte rested her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. “Rest up, Abuela. We’re here when you need us.”
“Oh for god’s sake! What are you all doing here?”
Charlotte jerked her head back to find her grandmother wearing a scowl that would make a three-year-old proud.
“Abuela!”
Her grandmother took turns in pointing at each of the family members crowded around her. In her thick Spanish accent, she said, “Stop with the sad faces. I’m not going anywhere just yet.”
Charlotte let out a small laugh. ‘You’re feeling better?’
“Fit as a bloody fiddle, except for this damn pain in my hip. I thought they’d have good drugs in the hospital. The last lot did nothing.”
“They made you sleep.”
“For about five minutes.”
Abuela’s crankiness showed she still had plenty of fight left in her. Whatever caused the accident and whatever the complications, Charlotte had renewed hope her grandmother would get through this.
“Do you want me to get a nurse?”
“Why? I’m not …” Abuela sucked in her breath, her eyes wide. “There’s that damn fluttering again,” she gasped, holding a shaky hand over her chest.
Charlotte’s fingers hit the nurse assist button but instead of waiting, she dashed out in the hallway. Spying a nurse and doctor hunched over a medical report, she rushed up to them.
“Please. My grandmother. It’s her heart—“
The words fell away as the medical staff rushed into the room. Charlotte stood with her parents and brother as the team worked feverishly.
“Please,” said the nurse, “we need some space.”
The family moved into the hallway. Her father concentrated on his feet, shaking his head, while her mother clung to Steve, who was as pale as the walls surrounding them. A petite woman hurried past, her long ponytail swaying as she spoke in a low voice with a tall, scrawny guy not much younger than Charlotte. He had the distinct air of a medical student and the woman gave the impression she was an authority and no one should dare question her—ever. They entered the cubicle and Charlotte strained to hear what was being said as everyone was talking over the top of each other. With squealing and beeping machines and feet shuffling across the floor inside the cubicle, she couldn’t make out a word. But as long as there was movement, there was hope.
After what felt like forever, the commotion slowed and the pony-tailed woman reappeared.
“I’m Dr Simmons. I’m the cardiologist looking after Katarina.”
“What happened?” Charlotte’s chest felt hollow.
Medical terms flew from the doctor’s mouth and Charlotte tried her best to keep up with it all. The only words her brain latched on to were atrial fibrillation but she didn’t know what it meant. Trying to clear her head, Charlotte heard the doctor say, “Her broken hip is the least of her worries right now. We need to get her settled and do some more testing to make a more informed decision.”
“About?” Steve asked.
“About the best treatment. Given your grandmother’s age, not all options are available but we will do whatever we can to get her on the road to recovery.” Her smile appeared genuine. “I need to make some calls. Please excuse me.”
Charlotte stepped forward. “Can we see her?”
The doctor tilted her head to the side. “She’s asleep right now.”
“After all that?” Steve asked.
“We’ve given her something for the pain so she can rest. I suggest you go and eat something and we’ll call you when she’s settled in her room”
“I’d rather wait here,” Charlotte said, her heels pressing against the hard floor.
“I need to go but please let her sleep.” Dr Simmons took off down the hallway.
Charlotte’s eyes burned with unshed tears as her father ushered them outside Emergency. They stood in front of the building, breathing in the fresh air. In the distance, trams rattled and cars whooshed up and down Victoria Parade.
Shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight, Charlotte said, “I’m in no mood to eat.”
“None of us are.” Her mom squeezed Charlotte’s hand. “But the doctor’s right. We need to step away while they do what they do best—help Katarina get well.”
“What if she …” Charlotte couldn’t finish the sentence.
“We do not cross that bridge unless absolutely necessary.” Her father mumbled and Charlotte wrapped her arms around him, chastising herself for being so selfish. Abuela was his only surviving parent and he was an only child, so the death of his mother would be a devastating blow.
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“It’s okay, honey, I know you didn’t mean anything by it. You were just voicing what we all fear.” His chest rose and fell as he drew a deep breath. “Let’s get a caffeine fix while we wait. There’s nothing more we can do right now.”
* * *
Forty minutes had passed before they’d finally received the call that Katarina was stable. Charlotte’s mom, dad and brother trailed behind her as the nurse led them up the hallway to Abuela’s private room on the cardiac floor.
A scrawny woman pushed a trolley laden with trays of hospital food, the crockery rattling as she guided the heavy load from room to room. The aroma of chicken soup wafted past and Charlotte’s stomach growled, taking her by surprise.
“What if she’s asleep?” Steve had caught up with Charlotte.
“Then we come back later,” her dad said.
The nurse stopped in front of a closed door and said quietly, “Katarina needs a mountain of rest so I suggest you go in one at a time and keep the visit as short as possible. Her body has a
lot of repairing to do and the best medicine for her right now is sleep.”
Charlotte nodded. “The doctor said my grandmother has atrial fibrillation but none of us fully understand what that means.”
“It’s when the upper part of her heart beats too quickly and is out of sync with the lower chamber. We suspect this happened when she was at home and had the fall but by the time the paramedics arrived it had righted itself, then it surfaced again in ED. Patients can go in and out of it and many live with this for years. Others ... well, it can be dangerous and intervention is necessary.”
“Does she need a heart transplant?” Steve ran his hand through his thick curls.
“No. We’re helping her heart along for now with medications and we’ll monitor her closely. We’re also very concerned about a possible occlusion. One of her blood tests indicates she may have had a heart attack so we’ll send off more bloods soon. Then we’ll have a better idea of what’s going on.”
The more the nurse spoke, the less confident Charlotte felt about Abuela’s future. Charlotte’s mom’s lips quivered and her eye rims were red. She looked like she might faint or have a breakdown at any minute.
“What about her hip?” Charlotte asked.
“The orthopaedic surgeon is reviewing the X-rays and CT scan.”
“Will she need an operation?” Steve asked, his voice an octave higher than usual.
“It’s up to the specialists to decide. First and foremost is her heart, though.” She took her time to look in the eyes of every member of Charlotte’s family. “For her age, Katarina appears to be quite well and I can tell she’s a fighter, so this all works in her favor. Just be there for her and we’ll do everything from our end to help.”
“Thank you.” Charlotte’s father said, his voice raspy with unshed tears.
“It’s my pleasure. We’ll keep you updated as things progress.”
Charlotte placed her hand on her dad’s shoulder, his muscles tight even though he tried to appear stoic. Not that she expected any differently. Her father had never been one for showing emotions, although she never doubted he loved her. He loved all of them. He just had a strange way of showing it, with his long silences and his penchant for using work as a place to retreat when the outside world got too tough.
Just like me.
No ...
Yes …
Damn it!
How had she not realized this before? The day after she’d discovered Drew’s affair, she’d thrown herself into work, clocking up crazy hours and sleeping on the couch in her office, not allowing the sun to kiss her skin or lungs to breathe fresh air for days on end. Abuela had been the only person who could nag some sense into Charlotte.
Come on, Abuela, you need to get better.
“How about you go in first, Dad?” Charlotte suggested, still not ready to face the reality she’d almost lost—and still could lose—one of the most important people in her life.
He cleared his throat as if being jolted back into the present. “Yes, yes. Of course.”
Her father opened the door and disappeared. He hadn’t been gone for long before he came out, his shoulders hunched. Charlotte’s mom silently shuffled over and wrapped her thin arms around him. She rested her head against his chest and his beefy hand stroked her long dark locks. Although her father rarely showed his emotions, the random moments like this between her parents gave Charlotte faith that love truly existed, she just needed to look in the right place.
Her mother ran her hand down Charlotte’s father’s face then she disappeared into Abuela’s room, the door closing behind her.
“How is she doing, Dad?” Charlotte asked, her voice low.
He shook his head. “I’ve never seen her like that. We could lose her.”
Charlotte placed her hand on his forearm and he stared at her with glassy eyes. “Don’t worry, Dad. Abuela’s going to make it through. Bounce back to normal right?”
“Yes, yes of course.”
He looked away and let the lie hang between them.
Chapter Three
Charlotte kept vigil beside the hospital bed while her grandmother slept. When she clasped Abuela’s hand, it felt bonier than normal and her skin, once warm, seemed colder, wrinklier and papery thin. Purple veins stood out against the pale flesh and dark blue-black patches were now visible. Since her admission into the hospital five days ago, Abuela had insisted on wearing her nightgowns from home, but today she’d mysteriously changed into the hospital-issued garb. An IV was back in her arm too, but the nurses were so busy that Charlotte hadn’t found out the reason for the changes.
Three days ago, Abuela’s heart had stabilized long enough for them to operate on her hip, but this, along with the barrage of tests, had taken its toll, leaving her frail, exhausted, and looking as old as her ninety-six years.
During the day, Charlotte took up residence in her grandmother’s room, working quietly on the laptop between visits from family members. When a call needed to be taken, she’d step outside, while her grandmother spent most of the day sleeping. Her mom, Heather, regularly delivered care packages to ensure Charlotte ate properly at the hospital and at home, while Steve sent her ridiculously corny memes. Her father, as expected, buried himself in work. He visited Abuela daily but kept the time he spent in the hospital to a minimum, unable to handle the smell of “sickness”, as he put it.
Outside visiting hours, Charlotte scurried to the office nearby but she found it impossible to concentrate. It took all her willpower not to call the nurse’s station during the night to check all was well. But the medical staff had a job to do and it didn’t entail playing receptionist to a paranoid family member. It didn’t make her absences any easier, though.
Placing her laptop on the table next to her, Charlotte stood and slowly stretched her arms above her head, leaning from side to side.
“You need to go home and have a shower.”
Charlotte swiveled to find Abuela’s eyes wide open and her lips kicked up into a cheeky smile.
“You’re awake!” She rushed over and wrapped her arms around her grandmother, her bony fragility shocking Charlotte every time.
“Of course I’m awake, who do you think I am? Rip Van Winkle?”
“I would have said Sleeping Beauty.”
“Pft. Tiaras are too flashy, plus they get uncomfortable after a while.” Abuela patted the mattress beside her. “Sit, my dear girl.”
“You said I needed a shower.”
“What you need is to go home. You’re spending too much time here. Although a shower wouldn’t hurt you.” The moment Abuela winked, hope sparked in Charlotte. For the first time since before her accident, her grandmother showed glimpses of her old self.
She let the hope grow as she filled her grandmother in about what had been happening at work.
Sighing, Abuela said, “You need to get a life.”
“Gee, thanks.” Charlotte raised her eyebrows. “That’s a lovely way to talk to your granddaughter.”
“I’m your elder, you have to respect me.” She poked Charlotte’s rib playfully. “I may have learned a thing or two in my nine decades on this earth.”
“Only a couple of things, eh?”
Abuela nodded towards Charlotte’s phone and laptop, their screens constantly flashing messages. “All this technology, it sucks the life out of people. You’re connected twenty-four hours a day. When do you switch off?”
“I can’t, especially with Dad on my back all the time about expanding our business and meeting ridiculous goals …”
“You need to tell Ian to pull his head in. When was the last time you took a weekend for yourself?”
“I …” Shit. “I have no idea.”
“My point exactly. You’re a young woman in your prime, you shouldn’t be working so hard. Go out, make new friends, party, pick up a handsome stranger in a bar.”
“Abuela!”
Her grandmother cocked an eyebrow. �
��What? I was a young woman with sexual desires once. Mind you, it doesn’t stop when you get older, no matter what the media says.”
Charlotte groaned and covered her face with her hands.
“Oh stop being such a prude, Charlotte Mae Kavanagh.”
“So what was it like for you at my age?” Maybe after this scare Abuela would be more willing to speak about her life in Spain.
“You don’t need to know that, it’s not relevant.”
“It is, Abuela. You and I are so alike and I want to know how things were for you back then. Spain is such a foreign world to me and it’s part of my heritage. Can’t you tell me something? Please?”
Abuela bit her lip then crossed her arms.
“What about your family? You never talk about them and I’d love to know what they were like. They’re my family too, you know.”
Abuela took a shallow breath, “You’re not going to give up, are you?”
Charlotte shook her head, “I’ve let you get away without saying a word my whole life but today, I’m digging my heels in.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“I wonder where I get that from.”
“Hmmm …” She scratched her head then pointed at it. “You do my hair and I’ll tell you a story.”
“Deal!” Charlotte jumped up and grabbed her handbag. She’d gone to her grandmother’s house a few days before and collected her favourite nightgowns, dressing gown and combs and hairbrushes in the hope that Abuela would feel well enough at some stage to request a coiffuring. She gently moved her grandmother forward, plumping up the pillows.
“I can use some leave-in conditioner if you like.”
“Please.” Her voice shook and Charlotte stepped forward so she could study her grandmother.
“What’s up?”
“I’m sorry. Making this deal was foolhardy.”
Charlotte sprayed the conditioner on the ends of her grandmother’s brittle hair. She was disappointed but what could she do? “If it’s too hard for you, we’ll leave it be.”
Dreaming of Spain Page 2
