Page 38 of Always Be an Us

Shit. It’s 10:30.

"Grandpa," I call out. "I'm late. You didn’t wake me up."

Nobody answers and for a second, I think he must have gone out for an early start on the water.

Then, it hits me like a bolt of lightning, at the same time as the phone rings beside me.

Grandpa isn’t here.

He’s in the hospital fighting for his life

I jerk up in bed and glance around. Even from this distance, I can see the remnants of chaos in the living room and the abandoned teacup shards on the ground. I didn’t clean up when I got home, too exhausted to do much more than collapse on my bed.

But now I wish I did because I hate the reminder of what happened yesterday.

Grandpa holding his chest, gasping and falling to the floor…

I try my best to block out the memory as the phone continues to ring.

I reach for it and answer it without glancing at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hey." Tate’s breathless voice emits from the receiver, but it's surrounded by heavy construction sounds. "My mom just called and told me about your grandpa. He's in the hospital? I’m so sorry, babe. I wish I could be there with you. How are you holding up?"

I sigh. "I don’t know. It almost feels like a dream. And then I woke up this morning and he wasn't here."

"I can imagine. I’m so sorry."

"It’s okay. He’s stable now and they’re going to schedule him for surgery soon so he should be fine." I pause for a second taking in more of her labored breathing. "Are you jogging right now?"

"Something like that."

That gives me pause. Despite being active, like me, Tate isn't big on organized exercise. She finds jogging in particular needlessly stressful and painful on her knees.

"I’m running late and if I don't get there in five minutes, Rico is going to chew my head off," she explains.

"Oh," I answer. Tate is currently in New York completing a PT fellowship, under a naturopathic guru, Rico Hernandez.

But, as she's told me, for a naturopath the man can be a real fussy jerk, albeit a very passive-aggressive one.

A loud horn shatters the atmosphere, followed by Tate yelling, "Alright! I see you, asshole. Middle finger to you too. Yeah, I hope you kiss your mother with that mouth. Jerk."

I press my lips together to hold back my giggle. Tate is always so calm, usually the picture of Zen and control. It's hilarious to see her cursing some stranger out.

"Sorry, you had to hear that," she says. "I swear to God everyone in this city is insane. It's starting to drive me crazy too."

"I hear New York City can induce insanity in even the best of us." Now that I think about it, it makes sense that Declan is from New York. He's as insane as they come.

"You got that right. I almost don't recognize myself anymore. One of these days, I'm going to-"

Her voice cuts out abruptly, and I hear a clatter, followed by some other commotion.

The silence is so abrupt it has alarm shooting through me.

"Hello?" I call out after nearly a minute passes. I glance at the phone to make sure I'm still on the line and try again. "Tate? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Her voice comes from far away and then closer as she says. "Sorry, I just bumped into someone."

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