Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)

I say goodbye to the manager and walk up the steps to visit my grandma. Her frail body sinks into the bed. It pains me to see her shallow cheeks and sunken eyes as she looks over at me with glossy pupils.

I take my usual seat next to her and tug her hand into mine. “Hola, como te andas?”

“Marisol, no me gusta la ultima doctora. She poked me with a needle. I want to go home.”

I shake my head and sigh, wishing Abuela would remember me once. Tears fill my eyes as I take on the role of my mother. Every painstaking minute drains my energy, but I hold true to my promise to visit her.

Even when she doesn’t remember me.

Even when she gets angry because of her situation and yells that I’m leaving her to rot in some nursing home.

Even when my heart breaks day after day when I visit, hoping she might remember me, even for a second.

I do my family duty, carrying the burden. My parents would have done the same and tenfold. Shelving my sadness, I enjoy the time I have with Abuela until the nurses tell me visiting hours are over.

I rise from my chair and stretch my aching legs.

“Marisol, are you coming tomorrow?”

“Si, como no.” I lean over and kiss the top of her head before exiting her room.

My heart stops. My feet stop. Everything around me stops.

Vera leans against the wall, tapping her cane to the beat of the clock above her. She offers me a tight smile. “Elena.” The skin around her eyes wrinkles, reflecting the sadness etched in her gaze.

“Vera?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I look over her glossy blonde hair and porcelain skin. “You’re pale and all, but no. I’m shocked you’re here. How did you even know I was here?”

“I have my sources.”

“Are you the one who paid for my grandma to stay here indefinitely?”

Vera smiles. “I prefer my donations to remain anonymous. Showing off is so passe.”

“Are you behind my new job and bonus check, too?”

She shakes her head in disagreement. “I can only assume that was because of another Kingston. I may be fabulous, but even my power has its limits.”

An unrestrained laugh escapes me.

“Come, let’s take a walk.” She offers me her elbow.

I interlock my arm with hers as I fist my sweaty palm. “As nice as this surprise is, what are you doing here?”

“I’m doing my motherly duty.”

“For Jax?” My words reflect the confusion no doubt etched in my face.

“For you.” She remains silent after that.

I process her words as we exit Abuela’s facility. The late October sun shines down on us as we stroll toward the coast. Vera picks a spot near the jagged shore, giving us a good view of the Mediterranean Sea.

We both sit together on a bench, similar to our chat in London all those months ago.

“I’m here both for my own selfish reasons and because I think you could use some motherly advice. Your mum was taken from you at such a young age. I can’t imagine the kind of pain you’ve dealt with, and the struggles you have now with your grandma. To be young yet carry such a big responsibility on your shoulders must be exhausting.”