Free What You Remember I Did by Janet Berliner, Janet & Tem Berliner Page A

time since I've felt–"
    "Please, Matt, give me some time," Nan said, but he thought she rested her head back against his shoulder for a split second before she pulled away, just as Jordan came into the room. "Jordan, sweetie, it's bedtime."
    "Aw, Grandma!" Jordan yawned hugely.
    "How about if you read me a story?" Nan suggested.
    Jordan stopped mid-protest when Matt offered, "How about I read both of you a story?" Catherine, who had joined them, pretended to pout. Matt winked at her. "All of you." The oldest and youngest of the three were obviously pleased.
    He knew his reading from one of Jordan's favorite books was expert, but the child's eyes quickly began to droop. When he suggested he carry her to bed, Nan prodded her awake, as if letting him read to her was one thing, carrying her to bed in his arms quite another. He knew what she was thinking, and the old fury at Eliot and the therapist and the unfairness of the world swept dangerously through him again.
    Jordan opened her eyes, pulled herself off the sofa, and stumbled to the guest room. Nan followed to tuck her in, the way Matt used to tuck his son in every night. He was thinking he was not going to be able to stand being around this family tonight when Catherine, either blessedly oblivious or adroitly kind, patted his hand and announced, "Don't worry, my dear, I know just the thing."
    When Nan returned to the living room, Matt and Catherine had set up the Scrabble set, but she shook her head. "I'm tired."
    "Oh, Nanny, please? For me?" Matt had the distinct impression that this was an old pattern between them.
    "Maybe we should play tomorrow." He heard his own childlike hopefulness, but he could not help himself.
    "Come on, Nanny."
    Suddenly Matt saw that Catherine's shoulders had begun to lift with each intake of breath. She was gulping air through her mouth and wheezing like a warm-up on an un-tuned violin. Nan went quickly to her side, coaching her, "In through your nose, out through your mouth. In, two-three-four. Out, five-six-seven-eight," breathing with her.
    Catherine tried, but grew increasingly agitated. The color had drained from her face, leaving two high spots of blush. Her lips had a purple tinge.
    "Keep her going, Matt. I have to get the epi ." Nan half-ran to the kitchen while Matt did his best to pick up the count.
    "No needle," Catherine begged between wheezes. "You know how much I hate needles."
    "I was taught to do this on oranges," Nan said, positioning the syringe. "According to her doctor it's the closest thing to the feeling of human flesh." She gave the injection.
    Feeling a little queasy, Matt inquired foolishly, "Shouldn't she go to the hospital?"
    "Let's give it a few minutes for the epi to work. I warn you, she may throw up. Bring me a dish, a bag, anything you can find." Catherine was dry heaving. "If she could get up some phlegm, she'd be all right," Nan said, and Matt, rummaging under the sink, thought how this was too much information, "but she considers vomiting déclassé."
    When he got back to them with a plastic basin, the old lady's hands were balled into fists and she was shaking.
    "I'll stay with Jordan if you need to take your mother to the E.R." Matt offered, then grimly corrected himself. "Or I'll take Catherine to the E.R. and you can stay here."
    "No! I need you with me, Nanny."
    "She hates you seeing her like this," Nan told him. "Look, I hold her Power of Attorney. I'll have to sign for any treatment, or give permission if they want to keep her at the hospital. I'll just take Jordan along."
    "I won't hurt her, Nan," Matt said softly. "You know I won't hurt her." He couldn't believe he was having to say this, and her hesitation was even more dreadful. This was not his problem; he could leave them to sort it all out. Instead he pressed, knowing full well his persistence could make her even more suspicious. "It's late. Let the child sleep."
    "But if–" She stopped.
    He forced her hand, or tried to. "If what,