1 GRANNY’S DEATH

GAVIN heaves a sigh of relief as he awakes. He didn't wake up to any pain — no headache, no stomach twirling. He finally had a good night sleep since he last had one, weeks ago. His nose catches a whiff and his brain interprets that he is still in the hospital — laying on the hospital bed.

Today would have marked the commencement of his honeymoon. He ought to be on his way to the airport by now, or in the airport. Everyone had anticipated his wedding excitedly.

Unfortunately, desolateness developed in the past month. Granny has gone. Forever. Granny died a month before his wedding. He had promised granny that he would begin his dance with her — in his wedding.

He had said to her, "Granny, you'd easily qualify to be called my first love. On my wedding day, I have to dance with you first before I dance with anyone else—before I dance with my bride. I promise you. While I'm dancing with you, no other person will be permitted to dance. It will be only the two of us for the first few minutes and we will bask in the glory. Then when we are done, others can troop in and my wife gets the long, emotional dance with me." Granny had been so excited that she shed tears of joy and he had cried with her too. He didn't believe he would have made it this far without her.

She has broken his promise, to his dissatisfaction. He wondered why she couldn't wait to share that last dance with him, at least. She taught him promises were debts. Yet, she had been the one to leave him in debt. Granny died at ninety-three years old—having lived a fulfilled life—but he had mourned her like she suffered a young death. He had pleaded that his wedding be postponed while he mourned her. His family members had shushed him. They called him dramatic. He didn't bother to blame them. They couldn't understand the bond he had with his granny. No one could.

And although, every other person considered it a mere coincidence that his sickle-cell crisis hit two weeks after granny's demise, he disagreed on that. He was certain his great loss triggered the crisis. His wedding has eventually been postponed, when the hospital held him in, a week prior to the due wedding date.

He motions his pupils to observe the private ward. There is a stockpile of beverages in one corner of the room. His personal belongings—wallet, phone—are on the wooden bedside stand. There, in the other corner of the room, is his mother.

Whenever admitted in the hospital, it was usually his granny he woke up to. Sometimes, his presumed-to-be-wife-by-now fiancée; rarely, his mum. He whimpers at the reminder that granny is really gone. He had cried and cried after her death but he could no longer cry, even when he wanted to. He has dried out his tear ducts. There are no tears left to cry.

Merely looking at his mother, he could feel the neck-ache she'd wake up to. She is uncomfortably slouched into the chair she is sleeping in — her neck tilted to the back, over the top of the chair. She looks haggard and deprived. Deprived of rest and bath for a day. Or two.

"Mum," He whispers. "Mum!" He calls out louder.

Shannel sprawls to her feet, still sleepy. "Sweetheart? Do you need something?"

"Yes, please. I need you to go home right now. Take a proper bath and get some sound sleep. I don't want you back here until tomorrow, I beg of you. Take the day and the night off. You need that."

"Oh dear. I couldn't be at peace if I don't stay here with you. There's no more granny to act the caretaker."

"Naomi will be here soon. I also feel much better. Better enough to take care of myself. Believe me, mummy, you need to rest. You might be the next one in this bed if you don't go home now to rest."

"Don't say that."

"Not until you go home."

"Fine. I can't guarantee you that I won't return this evening though. There's beverages in that corner. For your breakfast, call the cafeteria if you want a room delivery. When you want…"

Gavin rolls his eyes. His mother always ignores that he is now thirty years old. He's no longer that three-year-old Gavin that was clueless.

"…To bathe, stay in the bathtub. Don't use the shower because I shouldn't stand for too long," Gavin interrupts her. "My drugs are in the drawer beneath the bedside stand and I should not participate in strenuous activities. I know, mummy. I'm no longer a baby."

Shannel grins. "You are still my baby — my first baby."

She bends to kiss him on his forehead.

"I do not appreciate other women kissing my man, especially without my permission." Naomi blurts, standing in the ward's doorway.

"What if other women offered you a kiss too?" Shannel smiles.

"That sounds like a nice form of recompense," Naomi hops towards Shannel and Shannel plants a kiss on her forehead. "I guess there's enough kisses to go round." Naomi grins.

"You'd bet." Shannel giggles.

"Mummy, I would ask you how you are doing if I wasn't seeing you physically. Standing here with you, I know you are not good. You need a bath and some sleep. Hell, look at those eye-bags." Naomi complains.

"Thank you for testifying." Gavin supports.

"Okay, okay. I was on my way out before your arrival. I will see you both later."

"Let me walk you to your car." Naomi lifts Shannel's bag off the chair. She grabs Shannel by her waist and Shannel, in turn, fits her arm across Naomi's shoulder.

"Excuse me. Where's my mummy? I think she is being poached right now." Gavin teases.

"I'd prefer you call it hijacked," Naomi responds.

"Get your hands off my mum. Ugh." Gavin speaks in wry humor.

"Our mum, you meant to say." Naomi quizzes. "I will be back pronto, babe."

Gavin smiles as he watches his mother and fiancée walk outside the ward side-by-side. He is grateful for her presence in his life. He feels so blessed. She treats his family like hers, onlookers would think she was a biological child of the family. She shops with his sister, plays video games with his brother, visits the salon with his mother, watches sports with his father and, ultimately, she's extremely understanding of him. Truly, he is blessed.

He picks his phone and peeks at the notification bar. Several messages from well-wishers—they all willed him quick delivery. And a mail. A mail from his honeymoon airline.

Valued customer,

we hope you have packed your bags and baggages for your trip to Paris, the city of love. We regret to inform you that the flight will be delayed by an hour. We apologize for any inconveniences. Thank you for using Skyer Airlines.

Gavin pouts. Apology accepted. It doesn't matter. I—we—won't be coming. My apologies, too. Gavin mutters.

Naomi reappears in the ward.

"Hi baby. You look good." Naomi grins from ear to ear.

"I feel better," Gavin nodded. "You look stunning. Always stunning. What are you smiling about?"

"I've got good news!" Naomi hops into the bed, beside Gavin. She lays her head on his chest, swings her arm across his stomach and places her leg between his thighs. Her chest is resting on his ribs.

"Naams, I don't think the hospital staff will appreciate their patient's treatment being hindered. You are obstructing an improvement to my health."

"Turns out the hospital staff will have to take a backseat on that note. This is my husband; I will handle his treatment. The rest of y'all better back off."

"Too sturdy," Gavin laughs. "A clingball is what you are. My clingball." He pulls her closer to him and kisses her all over her face.

Naomi holds Gavin tight. "Guess what, babe."

"Naams, you know I don't do well with guesses."

"I forgot I'm in love with a nitwit."

"That would mean you are in love with yourself."

"I will injure you." Naomi smiles and playfully shoves him. Gavin bursts into laughter.

"When I was walking mummy to her car, we saw the doctor. The doctor said you will be discharged before the week runs out!"

"Wow. That's surprising. I feel better, to be honest. But I'm rarely let off so soon."

"Exactly why I called it good news. Perhaps granny blew some heavenly relief upon you."

"Maybe. I would have preferred her presence to her blown-relief, still." Gavin shrugs.

"Gavin, you have to bid her farewell… so she can be at peace wholly where she is."

"About that, I will need more time. I'm still upset she broke my promise." Gavin giggles.

"I've missed you so much. Can't wait for you to be back home so I can wrap round you all I want — on a proper bed. Not this duffel bag the hospital tags a bed."

"Disturbing a patient is not enough, chiding the hospital has to be included. I will see to your prohibition from this hospital."

"Right after your own prohibition."

They both giggle.

"I should call the cafeteria for my breakfast." Gavin mentions.

"That won't be necessary."

"Why not?"

"Because I brought you breakfast, homemade—your favourite."

"Really? I thought you were on night shift yesternight? How did you manage to cook before coming over? Or you've enlisted witchcraft among your qualifications?"

"Mmmm. Witchcraft doesn't sound so bad, don't you reckon?" Naomi chuckles. "I was sad at work because I missed my baby— I was reluctant to leave you last night. There was not much work to do at the factory, hence, my coworker offered to cover for me until our shift ended. I closed three hours earlier. I wanted to come over immediately but I figured you'd still be sleeping so I decided to cook for you instead. Anything my baby likes, my baby gets."

"Naams. Oh, Naams. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me," Gavin pulls her in for another forehead kiss. "Thank you for all you do. Thank you so much. Tolerating my health, adjusting to discomfort because of me, everything. Bless you. I didn't want you to leave last night too but I don't want to hinder your activities with my health anymore, that was why I kept it cool. Words can't even express my gratitude now."

"Stop. I don't like when you say it like I'm helping you. You chose me. I chose you. We chose each other. No favours intended. You don't owe me."

"No, I don't owe you. That's an understatement. I'm indebted to you." Gavin scoffs.

"You are a clown." Naomi chuckles.

"Our honeymoon airline even mailed me today. I'm sorry we had to postpone the wedding and honeymoon because of my crisis."

"Concerning that, I sold our tickets. A ten percent depreciation. But you don't mind, right?"

"Are you joking? Why would I mind? That's splendid! How did you pull that off?"

"Someone's got to be a genius." Naomi blushes.

"Beautiful, brilliant, bold. Too much." Gavin applauds.

"My cousin bought the tickets. She decided to fly her husband out on a surprise vacation."

"How lovely."

"I'd better start dishing your food."

"Dishing? I thought you brought only one lidded plate?"

"Not at all. I packed fruits and snacks too. You know, appetizers and desserts. It's a three-course meal type of stuff." Naomi stands from the bed.

"My goodness. Where did I stumble upon this immensity of greatness? You are too kind, Naams. An angel—my saviour." Gavin stands from the bed.

"It's alright. I enjoy giving to charity." Naomi stirs her mouth and rolls her eyes in wry humour.

"In that sense, I live for charity." Gavin jests. He pecks Naomi on her temple. "Let me go brush my teeth."

"You will return to an astonishing sight. Worry not."

Gavin hops towards the bathroom. If he died right now, he would die a fulfilled man… having experienced unconditional love like Naomi's.