"I'll cherish it forever."
Grammy smiles but I can see the fatigue in her eyes. She lets out a heavy breath.
"It looks beautiful. Exactly how I imagined it. I can't wait to see you graduate with it."
Fifty-Nine
I decided to stay with Grammy all night. I cleaned up her litter boxes, something she fought me tooth and nail on, and then I made her dinner. She was only able to take four bites until she refused any more, saying she was full. She fell in and out of slumber, and when she'd wake, she'd look for me. Something in my gut warned me not to leave. Ms. Shelly set up the oxygen tank for her, and we fell asleep side by side holding hands with her cats surrounding her.
I'm so glad I listened to my gut.
Grammy died peacefully in her sleep.
I knew before I opened my eyes she wasn't here anymore. I laid in bed praying I wasn't right, but when I heard the soft sound of one of her cats crying, my worst fear had been confirmed.
Ms. Shelly allowed me as much time as I needed to say goodbye, and when hospice came to take Grammy's body away, she held me tight in her arms and let me cry on her shoulder until there were no tears left to give. It felt like a part of me left the world when she did.
Then, Ms. Shelly handed me an envelope.
An envelope I'm staring at while I sit by myself in my cap and gown with a diploma in my hand. I've brought the envelope with me everywhere since that day, but I just haven't been able to bring myself to open it. I know what will be written inside, and I'm not ready to read her handwriting or feel her words just yet. It's too fresh. Too real and too heartbreaking.
Ms. Shelly offered to come to my graduation, but I told her she didn't have to. She surprised me right before I left with flowers and a heartfelt card with some encouraging words. She gave me her phone number and told me to call her whenever I needed her. I thought it was incredibly sweet.
Now I'm sitting in a room with other graduates and their smiling and laughing families. I'm not crying for once because I know Grammy wouldn't want that, but I need to get out of here before I lose it. I've yet to go a day without tears, and today has been by far the hardest for me.
Standing, I take off my cap and gown and fold them into a bag. I switch my high heels to a pair of flats so I can walk comfortably to the train station. Just as I'm about to place the envelope in my bag for safe keeping, I feel a vibration. Frowning, I retrieve my phone and look down at the screen.
Blocked Caller.
My heart clenches. I swipe the screen open and read the text message.
Blocked Caller: Congratulations, Aubrey. The offer still stands for your nonprofit when you're ready.
Those damn tears fill my eyes and I sniffle. I shove my phone back inside my bag and grab the rest of my stuff. My jaw trembles, my chest tight once again. James has been relentless with his calls. My life is in shambles and I'm not trying to complicate it further by talking to him. When I decide I'm ready to open the foundation, I'll do it on my own.
Swallowing back my emotions, I glance up, and for a moment I meet Natalie's gaze.
My lips part at suddenly seeing my best friend. She's not staring at me with harsh blue eyes like she's done over the past couple of weeks, she's looking at me with confusion. Her gaze shifts around me. I turn away. I've been completely alone and in the dark about Grammy's death, and seeing Natalie brings too many feelings back to the surface.
As fast as my legs can handle, I'm rushing from the congested room in desperate need of fresh air. I step outside and power walk a few blocks before I'm on a train and headed back to Queens. The moment I step inside Grammy's house, I do exactly what she’s planned to do and pour two shots of her favorite sambuca. I inhale deeply, then lift one of the glasses to my lips, my hand shaking a little.
"Cheers, Grammy," I say to myself, then take her shot as well. I grimace over the gross black licorice taste then slam the shot glasses to the table. Goose bumps break out over my arms.
I glance around the quiet kitchen. The fucking tears start again, and my heart can’t take anymore. I break down and cry hysterically. I'm sobbing harder than I have yet. Fat tears drip down my cheeks and into my mouth. I feel like I'm dying inside, and it'll never get any better. I don't understand how I'm supposed to go on with life like everything’s okay. It's not okay. Nothing is okay. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She should've been here with me. I should’ve been celebrating with my best friend. But now they’re both lost to me, and I’m alone.
I'm sliding to the ground crying my eyes out with her cats all around me like they know I need them. Maybe Grammy was right. Maybe her cats needed her as much as she needed them, because I sure feel that way right now. I don't know what I'm going to do, but whatever it is will involve her fur balls. She'd want that, even if I do suffer from severe allergies.
I'm pretty drunk by late afternoon when my cell phone rings. I'm in no mood, and if I see Blocked Caller, I just might lose my shit altogether.
Reaching into my bag, I grab my phone and see it's a number I don't recognize. I'm a little relieved it's not him.
"Hello?" I say.
"Ms. Abrams?"
I frown. "Yes, who's calling?"
"This is Nicholas calling from the funeral home to let you know your urn is ready a little early."