“Grandpa!” I sit up and grab at his hand with my own. It’s purple and veiny, and I’m careful not to touch the IV. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“Well, I think this counts.” He coughs and smiles. “Hey, now. I said no crying. I’m gonna be okay.”

And he looks okay. A little pale maybe, and his voice is hoarse. Otherwise, he looks normal. But I can’t help thinking, That’s the problem, isn’t it? He always looks normal. I squeeze his hand.

“What’s my name?”

“What?” He looks confused for a second, and I hate it, but I have to ask.

“Just—what’s my name?”

“Dolly Parton.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Honey, I know you’re Ellie. But I don’t blame you.”

He coughs, and I scoot closer.

“Grandpa, why’d you run off like that?”

“Well, it’s kind of a funny story,” he says, and laughs, but I can’t. “I went to check on the contest, like I told you. Then when I got in there and saw all the trinkets at the silent auction, I remembered I’d left my own at home, the woodworking I’d been doing. I thought I’d just drive on home to fetch it.”

He stops talking, and I think that’s the end of it, and I want to ask, Why, why did you park in the garage? Why did you shut the door? Why didn’t you turn the car off? but he’s rubbing his eyes and there’s a little blood on his hand from where they had to stick him twice with the needle for the IV. So I decide to leave it for now.

I’m about to push the button for the nurse when he says, “Ellie, I guess I just got a little confused, is all.”

“Oh, Grandpa.”

“Ellie, I know I’m not right some of the time.” He picks at some dirt under his thumbnail, like a little kid. “But most of the time I am, honey, and that’s just a hard line to walk.”

“They’re talking about making you live somewhere else.”

I didn’t mean to say it, didn’t mean to tattle. But he doesn’t look surprised.

“I know, baby. Your grandma and I have been discussing it.”

“But I don’t want you to leave!”

I yell so loud a nurse comes by and shushes me and then sees Grandpa is awake and goes off to fetch a doctor.

“Honey, it’s not like they’re dumping me at a street corner and going on their merry way. Some of the places we’ve looked at are mighty fine, nicer than our trailer, that’s for sure. And your grandma would come with me. We’d even get a little space to do some gardening.”

“I like our trailer.”

“I know you do.”