I stayed in my room all night and most of the next day. She even tried to bring me lunch in bed, but as soon as she left, I pushed it out into the hallway with my crutch. The chunky, mud-colored VTV mushroom soup spilled all over the tray, but I didn’t even care. I left it there and closed the door. In fact, I barely came out again until Saturday afternoon, when I heard Grandma Betty’s voice and the garage door opening as my mom and Bryan headed out to Costco to stock up on diapers. (This time they wisely left the triplets behind.) By then it was almost 4:00, and I’d promised Em I’d help her set up at 6:00. That meant I only had two hours left to figure out how I was going to get there, and I only had one option. “Grandma?” I said, hopping into the living room on my crutches, which were really, really starting to hurt my armpits, by the way. “Can I ask you a question?” “Of course, sweetheart,” she said. She was managing to knit a perfect sweater while making sure the triplets didn’t hit each other, stick their fingers in the electrical sockets, or cut their own hair with their safety scissors.
