All I Ever Wanted

Chapter Twenty-One

The morning brings Phoebes second day of school. She’s very enthusiastic and when we stop by the school she waves good-bye and rushes off to find her friends. I smile happily. I'm glad she was able to make friends so easily. I don't think I would have settled in as well. Its good I don't have to. Since yesterday I neglected my schoolwork I decide to catch up today.

I complete an test for Maths and English I get a good score. I usually do. Out of one hundred I got ninety-nine on my maths and ninety-one on my English. I'm better at Maths and this score accurately reflects this fact. I print off the results and clip them into my folder. Next I decide what to do my project on. I finish a basic plan before filing it away for another day.

I pick up Phoebe at the correct time and we walk to grandmother's. She’s sitting in the chair beside the bed with Diane in the one next to it. A sad look is plastered on both their faces. "What’s wrong?" I ask immediately.

Grandmother looks up at us startled "Oh, I didn't hear you two come in!"

She’s avoiding the question. I narrow my eyes, now she's worrying me. "What’s wrong Grandmother, and don't avoid the question because it just worries me more." I warn.

She sighs in defeat "The doctors aren't sure but they think I have..." She pauses and looks me in the eye. Then she looks down to Phoebe. "Dont be too upset, but I have Leukemia."

My eyes are wide with shock. Phoebe looks confused I explain to her "It’s a really bad illness Phoebe." Realisation dawns on her and she looks concerned. I ask Grandmother "Is it, erm..." I falter unsure whether to say it.

"Yes. Its fatal, I have a few months." I go and hug grandmother tightly. Phoebe seems to understand and tears stream down her face. When I release grandmother I wipe away Phoebe's tears and she smiles a small smile.

I stand back and talk to Diane’s Phoebe and Grandmother embrace. "How long have you known?" I ask.

She shrugs "A couple of hours ago I suppose." I nod.

Diane offers her imput, "It isn't so bad. At least now you have a chance to say goodbye. When my husband passed away, I didn't get to say goodbye."

I nod in sympathy, "I'm sorry." It’s one of those stupid things people say to make you feel better. It doesn't help of course, but nothing does.

"Me too." She agrees. "Me too." I don't know whether she’s talking about her husband or my grandmother. Maybe both. She said it twice, perhaps one for her husband, one for her friend. 

"What was his name?" I ask softly.

Diane looks up with tears in her eyes "George. No one ever asks me that. They say there sorry and don't ask questions. No one cares about his name, or what he was like." She shakes her head.

"I care." I reply, and she nods smiling sadly. A nurse comes in and asks us to leave. Emotional goodbyes are given and each one has a deeper meaning.

We walk home in silence, even the normally perky Phoebe seems down. I can't say as I blame her. The silent tears run down her face but my own face is dry. I'm not heartless but the truth hasn't sunk in yet. I'm in shock. How can grandmother be dying? It doesn't even sound right!

When Mike see's our gloomy faces and immediately knows something’s wrong. "What happened? Emma? Phoebe?" we glance at him but don't say anything. "Come on guys... er girls! Please?"

I almost laugh at his mistake but remember the news, unable to forget, and answer gloomily "Grandmother’s... dying, she has months." I try to stay void of emotion but my voice breaks on the last word. Phoebe presses her face into me causing a wet splodge on my shirt.

Mike looks shocked, then worried, then sad. He says quietly "I'm going to miss her." He's only seen her a handfull of times, I'm guessing he's just trying to make me feel better.

I mumble in response "Me too."

"Me three!" Phoebe pipes up cheerily and smiles through her tears.

Mike sighs "I have to go out tonight and no way am I leaving you two here alone. So... do you guys want to meet my mom?"

Phoebe and I share an evil grin. "Of course!"

Mike groaned and covered his face with his hands. "I wish I never asked." He sighs with mortification.

Minutes later we're sitting at the kitchen table picking a tie for Mike to wear. Phoebe holds up a tie covered in little paw prints and dog bones. "This one!" She insists. I smile; lately she has an obsession with dogs.

I survey the selection of ties. I can see why see is having so much trouble. There are at least a hundred ranging from plain black to a multi-coloured clown tie with flashing lights. "Why do you have so many?"

"I have a distant relative in Australia with amnesia." Mike says. "He sends a tie for my birthday at least once a month."  

I laugh all worries forgotten for a moment. "Seriously?"

Mike nods.

"This one’s perfect!" I hold up a tie with question marks all over it. I thought maybe it could represent amnesia, since that’s the reason he has so many to choose from.

He frowns and looks on doubtfully. "I don't think I should wear either of those..."

Phoebe and I glare at him. "Pick one..." Phoebe starts threateningly. Phoebe is as cute as a flower petal and is always nice to everyone. So when she’s threatening people they tend to take notice just because for her it’s so out of character.

"Or else..." I continue, menacingly sweet. My voice is as sweet as sugar but my face and words make Mike cower.  

"You wear the clown tie!" We say simultaneously.

Mike shrinks back. I laugh internally. “I'll wear one of your ties! Just please, please, please don't make me wear the clown one!" He shudders at the thought. We hold out the ties and Mike grabs one randomly, ties it around his neck and heads out the door.

Me and Phoebe smirk. He has the clown tie around his neck.