Page 33 of Everything We Left Unsaid

“Thanks. Jacob helped,” she offers, flashing a smile in my direction. This new, easy companionship is a refreshing change from how we spent the better part of the last week.

“Then I should be thanking you as well, Jacob. You two did a wonderful job.” She sits at the table and takes a few deep breaths. “Give me a minute to catch my breath and I’ll help with dinner.”

“Are you having trouble breathing again?”

“I’m sure it’s just the ragweed. You know how my allergies flare up this time of year.”

Abby’s eyes fill with worry as she sets Chloe on her feet and presses the back of her hand to her grandmother’s forehead. “I hope you’re not getting pneumonia. You don’t have a fever.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, sweet girl.”

Abby returns to the pantry and pulls out a few more items. She mutters to herself as she searches each shelf. “Enisi, where’s the flour? I need it to make noodles.”

“Oh, shoot, I think I used the last of it to make pancakes the other day.”

Abby sighs, her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I guess I better run to the store, then.” She walks over to me and glances over her shoulder to make sure her grandmother isn’t watching. I think she’s going to kiss me, but that’s not what she’s after. “Don’t go anywhere while I’m gone,” she pleads, her eyes filled with concern. “Keep an eye on her,” she motions to Ama. “I’m worried about her. Something’s not right.”

“Okay.” I nod in agreement

“I won’t be gone long,” she calls to her grandma.

“Will you pick up my prescription while you’re there? I forgot to grab it while I was out the other day.”

“Sure, I’ll get it.” Abby clutches her purse and keys and runs out the door, in a hurry to get back, no doubt.

Chloe scampers into the living room and grabs a few toys to play with, and I take the opportunity to check my email while she’s distracted. I sit at the kitchen table across from Ama so I can keep an eye on her and pull out my phone. A few minutes later, Chloe walks up to Ama and pats her legs. “’Nack,” she demands.

“Okay, Chloe Bug. Give me a minute.”

“’Nack!” she cries again, her voice more insistent.

“What does she need? I can get it for her,” I offer.

“She wants a snack.”

“’Nack!” Chloe parrots.

Ama motions to the cabinet where Chloe’s crackers and applesauce pouches are kept, still too breathless to do much talking. I place Chloe in her highchair and arrange her snacks on her favorite princess plate. She happily digs in as I retrieve her sippy cup of milk from the fridge.

“Do you mind watching her until Abby gets back? I’m not feeling well. I think I’ll go lie down.” Ama punctuates each sentence with a deep inhalation, greedily sucking in air just to be able to speak.

“Of course.” An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I get the impression this strong, tough woman doesn’t complain often, and if she says she doesn’t feel well, she must be really sick. I’m hesitant to let her out of my sight.

“Do you want to call Abby and have her come back?”

“No, no,” she insists. “I’ll be fine.” She pushes herself up from the table and stands a moment to get her bearings. “Ow!” she cries, rubbing the center of her chest.

“Ama?” I prod with concern. She takes a few unsteady steps and reaches out to brace herself on the fridge, her hand still pressed to her sternum.

In a split second, everything goes terribly wrong. It’s almost as if it happens in slow motion, yet it’s done before I have a chance to react. She turns to me with a look of panic on her face, then her eyes roll to the back of her head a second before she collapses to the floor.

“Ama!” I cry out and fall to the floor next to her. I shake her shoulders and call her name, hoping she’ll wake up. When her eyes remain closed, I press my fingers to the side of her neck to check for a pulse. It’s barely there, and her breathing has all but ceased.

“Shit!” I exclaim under my breath. Fumbling for my phone, it takes me several tries to dial nine-one-one. I put it on speaker and start CPR.

“’Nisi!” Chloe cries from her highchair, sensing something is wrong.

“It’s okay, Chloe Bug,” I try to comfort her from my position on the floor. “Pick up! Pick up!” I shout as I pump on Ama’s chest.

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