The scene began to fade. Claire didn’t want to leave the warm feeling as she took one last look at the sisters eating their cereal and laughing. The spilled juice is forgotten. Then darkness . . . coolness . . .
“Ms. Claire, Ms. Claire, can you hear me?” The familiar voice teemed with concern. The warmth she felt from her childhood was gone. She didn’t want to go to the voice. She wanted to go back. Claire wanted more sleep, more tranquility . . .
“Come on, Claire, the movie starts in half an hour,” Grandma’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs. Claire opened her eyes. She wondered where she was. Her grandparent’s house. She must be staying over. Now she wondered if Emily was there too.
She could see herself no longer a child but an awkward teenager. Grandma called up the stairs again, “Claire, your sister said she’d pick you and your friend up, hurry down.” Grandma’s expression reflected concern for Claire’s movie. The real Claire wondered if the teenage Claire would see Grandma’s concern.
Claire stomped down the stairs. “Fine, I’m ready. I called Amy, she can’t go now. And I don’t want to see ‘A Bug’s Life’ with Emily. John will be there. He’ll think it’s stupid.”
“Let’s call Emily, tell her Grandpa, you, and I are going to the movies.”
As she watched she prayed that her counterpart would accept Grandma’s offer. She also wondered her age, probably fourteen or fifteen. Then she remembered that Grandpa died when she was fourteen, so if he was going to the movies she had to be thirteen or fourteen. Teenage Claire made a face at her grandmother’s suggestion.
“Where are we going?” Grandpa’s green eyes shone and his voice boomed jovially as he joined them from the other room. Claire’s heart ached to see her grandparents, yet at the same time it swelled with affection.
“To the movies,” Grandma said, smiling at Grandpa. Her grandparents were having an entire conversation through their sparkling eyes and facial expressions.
Young Claire didn’t notice, too self-absorbed. Grandpa put his arm around Claire. “Great, I have been trying to get Grandma to go to the new ‘Lethal Weapon.’ You know I love me some police drama.”
Grandma smiled at him. “Oh no, that is rated R. Claire would rather see ‘Ever After.’” They were doing it, pulling Claire out of her funk. She wasn’t budging willingly, but they were doing it.
“Oh no, Grandma, I don’t want to see ‘Ever After,’ it’s a Cinderella story . . . stupid.” Grudgingly smiling at Grandpa, she said, “I want to see Mel Gibson’s butt!”
Her grandparents smiled at one another and continued the amorous charade. “I don’t think Shirley and Jordan will approve,” Grandma said as she grabbed the newspaper. “Let me look at the movie times for ‘Ever After.’”
Teenage Claire looked over her grandma’s shoulder. “Grandpa, ‘Lethal Weapon’ starts in twenty minutes. If we hurry we can make it.” Her sulking forgotten, she believed she’d just gotten her way. Claire filled with warmth as she watched herself be lovingly manipulated.
Grandma surprised Claire. “Hey, I am going too. I don’t want to miss Mel’s butt.”
Grandma winked at Grandpa. The scene began to fade away. The last thing she saw was the three of them going out the door to the movie.
Claire wondered why she hadn’t remembered this before. Then she realized that it wasn’t unusual. She’d been raised by an amazing family with unconditional love and consideration.
Somewhere along the way Claire forgot how that felt, the warmth that made everyone within its aura feel happy. The darkness returned, the quietness combined with a feeling of serenity and warmth.
Gradually the darkness intensified and the warmth melted away. In the cool darkness she could hear voices again. She waited.
“Claire, talk to us. Open your eyes.” It wasn’t a command. Tony’s desperate voice was requesting. She didn’t want to open her eyes. She wanted to feel the warmth, to sleep.
“Ms. Nichols, Ms. Nichols.” The deep unfamiliar voice no longer spoke to her, but to someone else. “We will need to begin intravenous feeding if she doesn’t regain consciousness soon. The medicine to keep her unconscious should be out of her system. She is responding to some commands, but we can’t be sure of her condition until she fully wakes. Sometimes the body will do this on its own, shut itself down to heal and to avoid the pain.” There were voices and then she heard the unfamiliar one speaking again. “Her pain seems to have subsided with the medication. It should help her wake.” Claire didn’t want to listen to them anymore or know who they are talking about. She just wanted to sleep, to feel warm, and go back to her memories.
“Get up, sleepyhead. You have a room of your own.” Claire heard her own voice. It sounded happy and playful. However, she couldn’t see herself or to whom she spoke.
“But I like this room better. I like this bed better,” the other voice teased and laughed.