When War Meets Love

Music, Love, and Swollen Bellies

I jerked up from the couch I had fallen asleep on, startled by the loud pounding on my front door. My heart repeated the pattern, thrashing in its ribcage. I bolted to the door, almost tripping over my feet, suddenly full of hope that the police have found my grandma, safe and sound. I almost tore the door open, my nerves all over the place, and my mind praying in different languages to different Gods that I would find her standing behind that door.

My heartbeats were audible at this point but stopped at once in marvel when my eyes took in the sight of my grandmother, huddled in her orange quilt, shivering and eyes wide with agitation. Her face was hard to read, and I made a mental note to ask her soon but for now, I just pulled her in for a bear hug. My only concern was to feel her presence. The thought of losing the chance to hug her like this again overwhelmed me and tears started to pour out of the faucet in my eyes, not knowing if these were happy tears or sad ones. I breathed in her sweet lavender scent and rubbed her back, repeating the small whispers of ‘thank God’ over and over again.

I almost didn’t notice Julian standing behind her awkwardly, and so I waved for him to come inside. I lead grandma to the couch and kneeled in front of her, taking off her muddy shoes. I had so many questions but didn’t want to pressure her. Instead, I made sure she was comfortable and announced I’ll be making tea for everyone, still holding back tears.  

I stood up abruptly and gestured for Julian to follow me into the kitchen, claiming I might need his help. When we were inside I held up a finger for him to not speak yet, while I filled up the pot with water and put it on the stove to boil. I took in a few breaths and choked out in a hoarse voice, “Where did you find her? What happened? Was she okay?” I was shaking and found myself holding onto his arm for support.

Julian had sympathy in his eyes as he engulfed me in a hug, rubbing my back soothingly. “Shh, don’t worry. She’s fine, really.” I pulled out of the hug to look him in the eyes. He seemed truthful enough. I urged him to say more, “Okay, how did you find her then?”

He nodded reassuringly. “Me and Selma were in the park, you know talking about…never mind.” He didn’t need to say it, I already knew they were discussing the catastrophe that I caused this afternoon, before facing a second one. I’m such a screw-up. “Anyways, so we were walking and I thought I heard some people talking behind the bushes but we didn’t think much of it and continued our route. But when we turned around to repeat the same trace, I noticed your grandmother step out of those same bushes. I recognized her and when I went to approach her, she looked furious and distressed and even jittery. I called to her, but I think she didn’t remember me because she didn’t respond to me. So then I tried again and when she looked at me, I explained that my name was Julian, and I was Audelia’s friend. That made her smile and she seemed more at ease. I offered to bring her here and she accepted, saying she wanted to go home.”

I didn’t know what to say to this. How she got to the park in the first place, why she was there, and who she was talking to - all these questions I wanted answers to but didn’t know when or how to ask her.

Julian must have read my mind because he placed his hands on my shoulders and advised me not to talk to her tonight. “She had a rough day and is probably scared. You know that stress isn’t good for her. So if you want my opinion, I think you should just focus on calming her down. You can ask her for details tomorrow when she feels better.”

I wanted to agree, because I know he was absolutely right, but I was worried sick. “But what if she forgets by tomorrow, or refuses to tell me?” I had to know who she was talking to. Did that person say anything to upset her? Was he planning on hurting her? Was it someone she knew, or a stranger she thought she knew?

Julian increased the pressure on my shoulders, squeezing my arms a bit. “Lia, look at me.” I did. The care shining in his eyes awed me. “The trauma is fresh, so she won’t forget it in a day. And if she doesn’t want to speak, then I think it’s for the best, too. What’s important now is her health. Only her health.” 

I almost cried again, overwhelmed with gratitude for having him with me, and for him bringing my grandmother home. I hugged him tightly, thanking him with every breath I took. He hugged me back, making me feel better. He has always been the shoulder to cry on, the rope that prevents me from falling into the dark pits of despair. I couldn’t imagine my life without him or grandma.

I sighed, breathing in his forest scent once more before I attended to the teapot that is now whistling for our attention. I got the tea ready and smiled at Julian warmly as we walked back to the living room. Grandma was distraught, staring into the distance. When we came in, she broke the trance and stared at us, her facial expression still hard to translate. Shaking the negative thoughts off my mind, I handed grandma her cup of herbal tea and sat next to her. Julian sat on my right and sipped his tea softly.

The silence grew and began to suffocate us, each one of us in a private world, drowning in a sea of thoughts. Just then, the lightbulb on top of Julian’s head lit up and he exclaimed in excitement, “Hey Lia why don’t you play your guitar? Grandma used to love it when you did that!”

I was surprised, and stunned, that he still remembered that. It has been a long while since I last played it. I forgot about music when I began working in the summer as I didn’t have any free time and felt like it wasn’t important anymore.

I stuttered in embarrassment and was about to refuse when grandma put her hand on top of mine, and whispered softly, “that would be nice my dear.” I couldn’t back out now, not with her looking at me like that; eyes twinkling and a faint smile tugging on her lips.

I sighed, shoulders slumping in mock defeat, and stood up grudgingly to grab my guitar from the closet. They chuckled in triumph, glad they convinced me to do it. I hate playing in front of people, but Julian and grandma weren’t just people, they were my people.

The guitar was a gift from Julian himself, who got it when he was 10 but never played. He said I looked like someone who can understand the art of music and that I was smart enough to learn how to play. He, of course, wasn’t wrong. I started playing random tunes and seeking advice from the school’s music teacher who knew how to play using notes. It came naturally to me. I wiped it from the dust that was layered on top and took it out for the world to see – the two people in my living room.

When they saw it in my hands, they simultaneously grinned, and Julian wolf-whistled. I blushed in embarrassment, not used to being the center of attention, but forced my racing heart to calm itself down so I could begin. I looked at my grandma and decided to play her favorite song.

When I strummed the first tune, she clapped her hands in recognition of her favorite song, ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ by the legend Elvis Presley. I built up the courage to sing the words softly to the chords.

“Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can't help falling in love with you

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help falling in love with you?”

Enjoying the song, grandma and Julian joined in on the singing, and soon we were all vocalizing the lyrics that made thousands of people smile, laugh, cry, and kiss. In our case, grandma was smiling in reminisce, and I was looking at Julian, wondering what it would be like to fall in love with him, and kiss his sweet lips.

“Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Take my hand,

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I said my goodnights to Julian at the door. Grandma had just fallen asleep and we were extra careful not to wake her. “Thank you, Julian, for everything. You saved our lives, really. I honestly don’t know how to repay you, I owe you a big one.”

He held up his hand to stop me from further thanking him. “Lia, I did nothing. You know how much you mean to me. And I consider your grandma to be my grandma as well.” I smiled at him sympathetically. He never met his grandma, just like I never met my parents. I guess that’s how life works. You can’t have everything, and you can’t have everyone.

“Look, I’ll talk to you later. I promised Selma I’d call her before midnight.” And just like that, him mentioning her name ruined the entire moment for me. Masking my disappointment, I told him not to forget to say hi to her in the friendliest tone possible. He quickly hugged me and got into his car, the only thing visible from the street was his headlights.

I threw myself on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Today was horrible. But I didn’t forget to thank God and the stars that my grandma after all is here with me. Safe and sound. I thought of ways to get her to tell me everything that happened with her. But in the morning before school, I wouldn’t have time. And I’m afraid that she’ll forget about it in the afternoon.  

I should skip school tomorrow.

The more I considered it, the more I liked the idea. I still feel bad about the whole swimming pool incident and don’t have the guts to face Selma. The beast might still be untamed. Plus, I’m already ahead of my classes and I could use a break after today’s scare.

I made up my mind. With that final decision in mind, I crawled under the bedsheets and opened the first drawer in my bed stand. I pulled out the only picture I had of my parents and observed it under the light of my lamp.

It was a black and white polaroid that portrayed how happy my parents were. Mother’s stomach was swollen, indicating she was pregnant with me when the photo was taken. She looked dashing. Her hair was thick and long, covering her shoulders and flowed to her waist. Her smile was so wide, her eyes barely showed. She wore a summer dress and was placing her hands on her stomach, showing off her baby bump in pride. Dad had one arm around her and the other on her stomach as well. He looked like he was in the middle of saying something funny and his eyes were fixed on my mother. He was handsome as well. His hair was slicked back and his shirt was tucked under his pants. Their love was as clear as crystal and made me hope that one day I would be lucky enough to be this deep in love with someone. So in love that a simple picture like this would be enough proof.

I fell asleep thinking about music, love, and swollen bellies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day I woke up with the intention of answering all the questions that were buzzing in my head. And I can only do that with the help of grandma. Throwing the sheets off my body, I went into the bathroom, taking a quick shower. Yesterday I was too tired to take one, and the thought of still having pool water on my skin made me a bit sick, to be honest.

After scrubbing the invisible dirt off my skin, I combed my hair and dried it. I braided it and wore something warm; a large pink sweater and thick black leggings that had fur on the inside. I looked cute, to be honest, but that didn’t matter because no one was going to see me anyways.  

Which reminded me, I should tell Julian not to wait for me today. I grabbed my phone and sent him a quick text that simply stated ‘Hey you, I won’t be going to school today. Have some things to take care of. I’ll talk to you later, byeeee! ’

Satisfied with my text, I placed my phone back on the nightstand and made my way to the living room to see if grandma was awake. She wasn’t. Frowning, I trudged to her room. She never slept in this late. I mean it was still fifteen minutes past seven, but grandma was an early bird.

I knocked on her bedroom door, but there wasn’t any answer from her. I pressed my ear to the door and heard her muttering, repeating incoherent phrases over and over again; just above a whisper. I couldn’t make out the words even though I could hear her perfectly clear. After a few seconds of trying to decode what she was murmuring, I concluded that she was speaking in a different language. A language that I have never heard before, which only fueled my confusion.

I was about to knock again when the muttering all of a sudden stopped. I held my breath so I could focus more on hearing what’s happening on the other side of the door. The only thing I heard was the soft shuffling of feet on the rug, getting closer to the door. I quickly stood away from the door, about a few feet back, and pretended to walk towards the door again, making sure my steps were loud enough to hear. I raised my hand in a fist to knock on the bedroom door when it creaked open to reveal grandma in her nightgown still, her hand behind her back.

I pretended to be taken by surprise, and exclaimed “Oh there you are! I came to check up on you, I thought you were still asleep.” I smiled innocently just to make my performance more plausible. I know it’s bad to spy or eavesdrop on someone, but it’s even worse to admit doing it.

She shook her head in disbelief, then sighed. “I was just…saying my morning prayers.” I didn’t believe her either, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. Instead, I asked her what she wanted for breakfast, hoping a change of the topic would relieve us both of the tension that has built up between us. “Pancakes would be nice,” was her answer. I’m glad she cooperated.

“I’ll be right on it.” I turned to walk in the direction of the kitchen and was almost about to enter when I swore I heard grandma say something along the lines of ‘meryan-klu-hadees.’ What was weirder was that I felt like I have heard this line of foreign words before. But where?

Not wanting to perplex myself even more with bizarre thoughts, I rolled up my pink sleeves and got to work on preparing the batter.  

After piling the steaming pancakes on two plates, and drizzling them with honey, I placed them on a tray along with grandma’s pills. I carried them to the living room and placed them on the coffee table between me and grandma. We sat on cushions on the floor and began munching the delicious treats. Sugar usually isn’t recommended for grandma’s health, but having a bit from time to time won’t hurt her.

She looked so pleased with her food that I didn’t have the heart to stop her and remind her of the events that took place yesterday. But the curiosity was killing me. It’s now or never. I took a deep breath in and cleared my throat, but she kept on eating. I cleared my throat again, louder this time, and got her to look at me. I smiled sheepishly when she glared at me, a little annoyed that I interrupted her eating.

“Grandma I just want to ask you a question, if you don’t mind.” She swallowed loudly and for a second I thought she looked worried, but then she blinked twice and was neutral again. That’s odd. Not that everything has been normal these past few days.

“Yes, Lily, go ahead.” She smiled at me like everything was fine, but my senses begged to differ. My stomach churned and I felt sick. Her calling me Lily made me lose some confidence that she’d remember. But I am not giving it up.

“I just wanted to know if you enjoyed your walk in the park yesterday,” I began. I read somewhere that it helps to be indirect, and gradually ask questions to get the person with Alzheimer’s to remember something; instead of asking straightforwardly.

“Yes…I did. The weather was nice. Very warm.” Great, she didn’t deny going. That gave me some hope. I continued to ask her.

“Did you happen to see anyone in particular? Talk to anyone?” I urged. I can see her thinking, taking her time. She ripped off a big piece of her pancake with her fork and knife and brought it up to her pursed lips slowly. She chewed at a snail’s pace, unaware of how she was torturing me with anticipation.

“No,” she finally answered.  No? What does she mean no? Was Julian mistaken, by chance, or did she simply forget all about it? Or is she actually hiding something from me and doesn’t want to tell me her secret? But what could she possibly hide, we’re talking about an 87-year-old woman with Alzheimer’s; she can barely remember my name three days in a row. 

I got frustrated at the lack of cooperation and decided to be blatantly direct about it and blurt it out. “Granny, Julian told me yesterday that when he saw you, he heard you talking to someone, but he didn’t know who that person was. Can you please tell me who you were talking to, and why you were talking to him?”

I think I pressed a button because grandma got mad. Not just mad, she was enraged, fuming in her seat. She forcefully jammed the knife in the wooden surface of the table, making me jump and startled. Her eyes were lit with fury, and her teeth grinding against each other, it was almost audible.

I was too shocked to speak, but grandma wasted no time to break the silence. “Are you spying on me? Following me everywhere I go? Have you no shame? Do I not deserve privacy?” she yelled, her voice ringing in my ears.

This all came to me as a shock. She has never rose her voice at me like this before. I have never seen this version of her. I barely knew what to say or how to respond in a matter that will calm her down. I mean, I never expected her to behave like this, I thought my question was simple. How was I supposed to know she’d be offended?

Still under shock, I stuttered, “Grandma, that’s not what I intended. I was just scared that someone would harm you, and wanted to know who that person was- to protect you. I -” she cut me off, taking me aback once again.

“I am not a child, Lily! I know what I’m doing, and don’t need your stupid protection. Don’t think I don’t know you’re sending people to watch me. You’re planning something behind my back and you keep spying on me. Why don’t you leave me alone and let me go back home!” She stood up and stormed to her room; more like waddled, but with the added anger.  

She left me speechless, my jaw almost colliding with the floor. I didn’t realize I had begun crying until the tears trickled down my face, leaving a trail of moisture on my cheeks. This is not the grandmother I grew up with. This is a new person, who copied her looks and took her place in the house. I covered my mouth with my hands, trying to cover up my cries that turned into sobs. Sobs of pain, shock, and exhaustion.

When will this be put to an end?

I figured I had to call her doctor again. The pills must have stopped working, which made her case get worse. I couldn’t let her live like this. She has to get better. I want my grandma back again, even if I never fully had her.

I don’t want to lose her. I knew she would never tell me what happened. But I told myself that this was no more than her acting out again like she used to do when she needed a change of medications. It wasn’t intentional, it simply occurred, like when someone sneezes or trips. It was natural and I had to let it go. For her sake and mine.

I dried my tears with the cuffs of my sleeve.

I stood up and went to my room to grab my phone. My head was already throbbing and the day had scarcely begun. I picked my phone up from the nightstand and saw I had several messages and missed calls from Julian. I saved his name as ‘Best male friend’ and he had me saved on his phone as ‘Best female friend.’ It was our thing.

I sighed and postponed responding to him until after I spoke with grandma’s doctor. Her health was my greatest priority right now.

I found his name, DR. WILLIAMS BERCH, and dialed it. I waited for a couple of rings, but there was no answer. I dialed again, this time waiting even longer for him to pick up, but I was met with the same set of monotonous beeps.

I groaned in frustration. Just my luck, of course, he won’t pick up when I needed him the most.

I lied down on my bed and read a couple of Julian’s messages.

Lia, why aren’t you coming to school?

Is everything okay? Are you sick?

Is your grandma okay? What’s going on?

Why aren’t you answering me!?!?!?!

Are you mad at me?????

Yoooooo answer my damn calls, you dimwit!

Fine. I’m coming over to your house after school.

Better yet, I’m taking you to my place. You need to get out of there.

Don’t you dare say no, I can hear you refusing already.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you, I won’t take no for an answer.

Such an a*s you are, I swear.

But I still love you.

I rolled my eyes. He’s so dramatic, exaggerating the whole situation. However, I admit he did make me giggle a bit when I read the messages. I imagined him sitting in the back of the class, wearing his red jersey, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, and his large fingers speedily punching his keyboard. What a sweetheart he is; calling me both a dimwit and an a*s.

 I sighed dreamily and texted him back.

Don’t worry about me. I am fine, and so is grandma. We just had an argument and I felt bad about it. Her actions are scaring me again. I tried to talk to her doctor, but he wasn’t available.

I looked at the time, 11:50. In a few minutes, he would be heading to the cafeteria for lunch. I hope he texts me then. I kind of wish he missed me as I missed him; like I was someone important in his life that he would miss if I was gone for a while. But I know that Selma took that spot and she filled up the void.

I felt emotional all over again. I wish I could find the off button to my heart. I wish I could tear it from my body and dump it in the garbage. I wish I could tell it to grow up and to stop crushing on someone that will never be ours. I wish I could stop feeling so alone and helpless. I wish I never grew attached to people. I wish –

My empty wishing was interrupted by the sound of my phone chiming, indicating I received a message. I flipped it over to its screen to see Julian had responded to my text.

Oh okay, that’s alright. We’ll talk more after school, I expect you to be ready to come over. Oh, and Selma will be joining us too.

I frowned disappointingly. I thought we were going to be alone, just the two of us. I was actually looking forward to this afternoon, but now I’m dreading it. 

I hated talking about my personal problems in front of her, for many reasons. First of all, she never keeps any of my secrets and I know for a fact that she will tell the whole cheerleading squad about it because it gives her the chance to capture everyone’s attention with some ‘fresh gossip’. Second, she pretends to care in front of Julian, when in fact she couldn’t care less about whatever is troubling me or my grandmother. She always gives me this look of disgust infused with pity, belittling me, like I’m under her and always will be.

I was about to text him, saying I won’t be able to make it, but he beat me to it and sent a text.

I’m dead serious btw, I won’t take no for an answer. You’re coming. Or I’ll literally pick you up and carry you to the car. So you better be dressed and ready around four.

I grinned. He was so goofy. I shook my head at myself at how fast he can affect me and play with my emotions. I responded back.

I’ll be there, you don’t have to pick me up – not literally nor metaphorically.

As you demand, m’lady, was his response. 

If I was going to leave at four, then I should make time to prepare lunch beforehand.

I got up from the bed and made my way to the kitchen. But as I passed grandma’s room, I froze in my steps. Should I check up on her? She has been sitting in there for a while. I exhaled a long breath and went to knock on the door. But this time without the eavesdropping act, like a good granddaughter would do. After knocking three times, and hearing nothing on the other end, I twisted the doorknob but without opening the door yet.

“Grandma, can I come in?” I asked softly. Still, nothing. I contemplated leaving her alone or entering the room. I didn't want to upset her any more than I already have, but it was my duty to make sure everything was fine.

I gently pushed the door open just a bit and could barely see anything in the darkened room, with the brown curtains drawn. I heard soft snores and realized she was napping peacefully on her bed. I closed the door delicately, hoping I didn’t cause any sound that would wake her. She must have tired herself out after her outburst and exhausted her nerves.

I just hope she isn't dreaming of stabbing me with that butter knife. The coffee table is still screaming in agony up to this point. 

Oh, well.