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“You sure? What’s going on, Odessa? It’s not like you to be like this.”

“I’m sorry, it’s nothing. Um, you know me,” she says, sounding light-hearted.

She forces a laugh, and I let it go. If she doesn’t want to talk about something, I won’t force her.

“How’s Lydia doing?” Odessa asks.

“I’m sorry I haven’t said much about her lately. I know how much you love her, too,” I say. “I’ve just been preoccupied lately. As you know.”

“Oh yes, I think everyone in your world knows about your masked mystery man.”

“Sorry,” I say. “Do I really talk about him that much?”

Odessa laughs. “Yes, but there’s nothing wrong with that. I was just teasing you.”

“Whew, okay. Good. And speaking of good, Grandma is good too. Actually, she’s doing great. The doctors are impressed with her recovery. She’s been at this rehab now for a few days, and I’m expecting the doctor to say she can come home any day now.”

“Wow, that seems fast.”

“It is, but that’s how well she’s doing. I mean, just three weeks ago, she had a heart attack followed by a stroke, and you’d never know it. We were lucky that the heart attack was mild.”

“What did they say about the stroke?”

“Oh gosh, I haven’t said much about her at all, have I?” I shake my head, feeling disappointed in myself. “Someone was smiling down on her that day because she had no side effects from it even though the MRI showed some brain damage. They say in time that area should even heal.”

“That’s amazing. I can’t wait to see her.”

“She asks about you all the time. I know you’ve been working extra hours, but whenever you have time, she’d love to see you.”

“Maybe once she’s back home. I hate going to those places, even the nice ones like where she’s at now. I’m so glad you were able to get her new doctors and everything.”

“You have no idea how grateful I am to the doctors,” I say. “Grateful to Alex, too. Maybe even, especially him. If he didn’t make the phone calls and get her seen by the specialists, I don’t think she’d be alive right now.”

My voice trembles as I remember how badly Grandma looked not even a month ago. I can clearly remember her tiny body in the hospital bed, looking so weak, surrounded by different machines. It didn’t even look like her. I wouldn't have believed it was her if it weren’t for her splash of bright red hair. I blink away the image and remind myself that she’s okay.

“You’re that grateful to him? Even with what you agreed to do?” She lets out a long breath. “It doesn’t sound real. I mean, have you ever heard of anything like this? A billionaire making a deal with one person just to destroy someone else? Never mind,” she says with a laugh. “Even as I say it, it makes sense. It’s absolutely something a billionaire would do.”

I laugh, but I’m still conflicted. I push the thoughts away as I reach the rehab facility Grandma has been staying at.

“I’m here; I’ll call you later, okay?” I say.

“If it gets late and you want a ride home, just let me know, and I’ll come get you.”

“Okay, thanks, sis.”

The building is four stories tall, with grey stone and large windows. A long carpet extends from inside the entryway, out to the sidewalk, and towards the street. A doorman stands near the entrance even though it has automatic doors.

Even though Grandma is okay, she still has moments of instability, so they won’t let her take a shower to wash her hair. Unfortunately, her hair is suffering from neglect.

Her normally bright red hair has faded to an orangey pink. It looks thinner, too, less full of life than even a month before. Because she hasn't been able to wash her hair, I brought a special waterless shampoo.

The sun streams in through the window and onto her, making the day seem warmer outside than it is. Her eyes are closed, and her breathing is steady. The sun makes her dirty hair look greasier and thin, showing her scalp. I quietly set my bag down on a nearby table and sat on the cushioned chair next to her bed.

"You should announce yourself when you enter an old lady’s room," she says as she opens her eyes. "Otherwise, you might give her a heart attack." Her eyes dance as she giggles.

“Sorry about that,” I say. “I didn’t want to wake the old lady.” I smile, then kiss her cheek. “I found some stuff to wash your hair," I say.

I pull the box out of the bag, open it, and empty its contents onto the tray beside her. Inside is a bottle of the special shampoo and a thick shower cap. She excitedly holds her hands out for it, and I hand it to her as I read the instructions.

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