I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to feel.
“I don’t understand any of this,” I said finally. “How did you end up with her baby? What does any of this have to do with a window? Why does this doctor know my name?”
Grandma reached over and took my hand. Her fingers were cold.
“I need to start at the beginning,” she said. “Not with Ruth. With me. Will you let me do that?”
I nodded.
She looked out the little window in the consultation room. There was no courtyard view from this one. Just a brick wall and a drainpipe and the rain.
“I was a nurse here for almost forty years,” she said. “I started when I was twenty-three. On the second floor. Labor and delivery.”
“I didn’t know you worked here. I thought you worked at County General.”
“I moved to County in 1976,” Grandma said. “I couldn’t stay here anymore after… after everything. But I started here.”
