Page 95 of Give Me a Shot

“Where in the world else would I be?” she called back after a few seconds. “Come on in, use your key!”

Mo let himself in, careful to close the door behind him. Mrs. Sargysan was on the couch, watching television. She lowered the volume as Mo joined her, sitting in the loveseat. He and Maddie had been checking in on Mrs. Sargysan a little more than usual after she’d fallen. She was mobile again and had a new purple cane.

“Hi,” he said. “That’s a nice cane.”

“It is better than that other one,” she said. “If I have to have one, it sure won’t be that monstrosity my nephew brought by first. Screamed nursing home.”

Mo smiled but let it falter. His arms felt weak, his hands jittery, nervous about broaching the subject. He pressed his palms together between his knees. The deep breath he’d taken hitched on its way out because Mrs. Sargysan was eyeing him.

“Mo?” she asked. “What is it?”

“I need to ask you something,” he said quickly. “A favor, it—”

“Yes,” she said, cutting him off.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, confused.

“Yes,” she repeated. “I will watch Maddie so you can take Jess away for a romantic weekend. If her mom can’t watch her. We can have a slumber party, make cookies, all that jazz.”

Mo chuckled.

“No,” he said. “Thanks, but that’s not what I wanted to ask. It does have to do with Jess, though.”

“Okay,” she said.

His skin felt prickly, and it was like his muscles were coated in nausea.

“Mo.” She turned off the television and shifted on the couch to better face him. “You’re worrying me,” she said tersely.

“Sorry. I just feel bad talking about it because it’s kind of Jess’s private business,” he said. “But I also think it’s harming her, and I want to be sure I understand the situation well so I can help. And so that I don’t make things worse.”

Mrs. Sargysan narrowed her eyes. Mo figured he’d better spit it out.

“Jess’s younger sister died,” he said. “Unexpectedly. Violently. Earlier this year.”

“Oh, no,” she said softly, shaking her head. “No, no. May God illuminate her soul.” She crossed herself, ending by pressing her open palm to her chest. “Was Jess with her?”

“No,” Mo said, shaking his head and rubbing his palms together again. “She was still studying in England when it happened.”

Mrs. Sargysan pulled in a breath through clenched teeth.

“How is she handling the loss?” she asked.

“That’s just it,” Mo said. “I don’t think she really is. It wasn’t long ago at all, and she never expresses grief at losing her sister. She gets very upset after she speaks with her family, seems to try to distract herself afterward. The big thing is that she’s having a lot of physical problems—aches and pains—but the doctors can’t find anything wrong.”

Mrs. Sargysan let out an enormous sigh and slumped fully back into the couch.

“I don’t…I don’t want to bring up any difficult memories for you,” he said. “I just…I thought you might know if grief can cause physical pain.”

Mrs. Sargysan looked him in the eye. The large round lenses of her glasses magnified the tears he saw in hers, making his heart clench. She gave him a sweet half-smile.

“The only reason it doesn’t cause me physical pain anymore is because I keep those difficult memories close now,” she said. “I stopped running from them, trying to stuff them away. Until I did, until I looked my sorrow in the face and accepted it, the constant pain in my body was a hundred times worse than the pain from when I fell in the kitchen. A thousand times worse than what you’ve seen the past few weeks as I’ve been recovering. No onecan run from grief. Either we choose to face it, or our bodies make that choice for us.”

—

About an hour later, Mo returned to his side of the duplex. He’d had a good talk with Mrs. Sargysan while doing the washing up from her dinner, in spite of her protests. It had tickled him to realize that Mrs. S and Jess were a little alike—confident, headstrong, and caring, even though they didn’t easily let on. He was surprised that he hadn’t noticed before. Once he’d helped her up to her room, she’d shooed him home to call Jess. But how to begin to talk about something she didn’t want to see? Was that even his place?

Well, she was happy to be my girlfriend. Girlfriends and boyfriends don’t just stick to light subjects.

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