The minutes ticked and she slept.
If Neison Childs was the father of her baby . . .
then he was-my real grandfather, after all, and that
made Kenneth my uncle. Did he know? What if none
of this were true? What if it were?
Oh please wake up, Grandma, I thought. I want
to know more; I want to be sure.
There was a gentle knock on the door. When I
turned, a short, plump nurse entered carrying a cup
and some water.
"She's dozed off again, has she?" she remarked. "What's wrong with her? She's so different
from the way she was the last time I was here, and it
wasn't that long ago," I questioned.
"When they reach this age and they've been sick or lived a hard life, changes can occur from hour to hour," she said. "She's falling into Alzheimer's,"
she added. "In some cases that's merciful."
"Well not in hers. She has a lot of years left and
she can get better," I cried.
The nurse raised her eyebrows and looked at
me as if I were the one who was suffering mental
aberrations. She shook Grandma Belinda's shoulder. "Come on, Belinda. Time for your medicine,"
she said.
Grandma's eyes fluttered open and she turned
slowly.
"Come on, dear. Take your pills. Remember?" "Pills? Again? Why so many pills, Olivia? Did
the doctor really say I should take these, too?" "Yes, he did."
The nurse looked at me.
"Who's Olivia?" she whispered.
"Her sister."
"Oh. Yes, Belinda, he did. Come on, honey.
That's it," she said. "Now wash them down. Good