"Yo, Winters!"
I turn around.
"You coming to Johnny's?"
I look back with sad eyes and shake my head no. I watch as my friends leave, confused but without argument. They know me well enough when to leave me be. Today was not a day for Johnny's. Today I was visiting my Grandma-ma.
She has been sick for a long time. She's old, and the doctors tell us there isn't much they can do. I normally visit her on weekends, but since her health has taken a turn for the worse, I have gone to see her everyday.
Walking in the opposite direction from my friends, I make my way to my car. It had been a gift from my Grandma-ma on my sixteenth birthday.
Opening the door, the scent of pumpkin spice envelopes me a blanket of happier times.

Carmel apples, pumpkin pie, the house smelled wonderful. (I)
"Look at me, Grandma-ma!"
"Oh my! You scared me, child."
"Roar!"
"Do vampires 'roar?'"
I laughed. "I don't know, Grandma-ma."
Then we were both laughing. We could always make each other laugh.

I started the engine. The sky is gray, and it looks like its going snow. I always loved winter. I sigh, pulling out of the parking lot. The roads aren't that busy. No one wants to be out when a storm is on its way. The air is crisp, and you can almost the taste the sweet hot chocolate that will sure to be out in this cold weather. My thoughts turn back to Grandma-ma.

“Grandma-ma?” I called out.
“In here, darling!”
A child-like smile spread across my face. I headed toward the kitchen. I could smell the cocoa before I was even half way there.
“Hot chocolate!”
I laughed.
“Here you go, child.”
“Do you remember when I was little, and we had hot chocolate everyday?”
“Yes, I remember. It probably wasn’t good for you.”
“Probably, but it was good.”
“Marshmallows?”
“Yes, please!”
“One, two, three.”
“One more, Grandma-ma?”
“Too much. You’ll get sick.”
“Please,” I pleaded. I was ten and too big to beg, but it was marshmallows.
Grandma-ma got a sparkle in her eye. “Okay, one more each, but don’t tell your mother.” She gave me a conspirator’s wink and drop an extra marshmallow into my cup.

The snow is falling now, like marshmallows in my hot chocolate. I coast to a stop at the red light. Grandma-ma was always there for me. She comforted me, helped me, supported me.

“Grandma-ma!” I yelled.
She was younger then—I was only twelve—and came running up the stairs.
“What is it, darling child?”
I sat in the bathroom. Red blood bloomed on my pants and underwear. I was crying.
“Grandma-ma,” I whimpered looking up at her.
“Oh, darling, it’s nothing. No big deal. It just means you’re growing up.”

The light turned green, and I was on my way. I was growing up. I needed her more than ever then, and I still need her. I don’t know what I’d do without her. She was there through my biggest moments in life. She always knew the right things to day.
I stepped on the accelerator to make it up the hill, over the top, and down. Faster. Faster.

Faster.
“You’re going a bit fast, darling.”
My knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel.
“Ease up on the gas,” said Grandma-ma calmly. “Relax.”
I took a deep breath, trying not to close my eyes. I slowed the car down.
“Good, now why don’t you pull over? I think we’ve done plenty of driving for today.”
I rolled the car into the gas station and cut the engine. I was trembling in the driver’s seat.
“That was really very good for your first drive, darling.”
“That was awful!” I protested.
“You just need to stop worrying. Worrying and overthinking are what get you into trouble. Just focus on the now, and relax. You’re going to be great.”

I smiled. That was Grandma-ma, never pushing too hard. Positive all the time. She was never a downer. She was so strong.

“Paige?”
“Grandma-ma?” I walked into her bedroom. She looked so frail, hidden under a mountain of blankets to keep her warm and comfortable. “How are you today?”
“I’m good. I’m good. Don’t you worry about me. You have school and friends.”
I smiled. Even broken and unsteady, she never put herself first. It was hard to believe that just a month ago she had been up and enigmatic.

Tears pool in my eyes.
“Oh Grandma-ma. Why? Why you?”
She was at home for almost a year in bed all the time before we had to move her to the hospital. They had the equipment needed to take care of her and doctors on hand. We just couldn’t be there 24/7 to watch her and a nursing home wasn’t suitable for her needs.
It’s just so white. Grandma-ma loves color, but at the hospital it is just white.

White sheets.
White halls.
White clothes.
White lights.
Approaching.

White.
White.
White.

Black.
Nothing.
Oblivion.

“Paige?”
“Grandma-ma?” I ask.
“No, it’s mom, honey.”
“What happened?’
“That’s what I should be asking you. You got into a car accident. You need to be careful, Paige. You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
I shake off her concern. “Where’s Grandma-ma?”
“You’re lucky you didn’t sustain any major injuries.”
I look at her, and she sighs. “I’ll see if a nurse will let you go see her.”
She gets up and leaves. A minute later, another lady in a nurse’s uniform comes in.
“This was to see your grandmother.”
“Darling!” Grandma-ma exclaims when she sees me. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Except for a few cuts and bruises, the doctors said that it was really a minor accident. They think I only passed out because of the shock.”
“Paige.” Her voice is stern. I know she’s happy I’m not hurt, but that wasn’t what she was asking.
“Oh, Grandma-ma!”
“You were worrying.” It wasn’t a question.
I nod.
“About me.”
I hesitate, but I can’t lie to her. I nod again.
“Come here,” I run to her side. “What have I told you? Darling child, I’ve lived my life. You have to live yours. You are young and full of life!”
“I know, Grandma-ma.”
“I want you to be happy, okay? Like me. You can’t keep putting me first.”
I am crying now. I’m sniffling and my tears and soaking hers and mine hospital gowns.
“I love you, Grandma-ma.”
“And I love you.”

Grandma-ma held on for a long while. I visited her everyday. She protested and fought until I gave in. Fridays were my day off. She made me go out with my friends. When I saw her again on Saturday I was to tell her all about it.
On these days, I would sneak in some hot chocolate—the hospital hot chocolate sucked—and extra marshmallows.
We’d talk for hours. She would give me advice, and I would give her life. It was hard at first when she left. It was like a huge hole had ripped though my entire being, but I moved past it. I stopped worrying. I realized that she isn’t gone.

She’s everywhere.
She’s in the winter snow, the pumpkin spice, and the caramel apples.
She’s in the advice she gave me.
She’s in the car she bought me.
She’s in me.
But most importantly, she’s in my hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.