doubted he would’ve left Nana Naz alone to come down to the lobby if things were that bad.
I refused to think of anything else.
When I entered the lobby, I spotted Israel right away. He’d always been a big man. Even though he was two inches shorter than me, he was broader, more muscular. The first time I’d seen him after Leo’s death, he’d looked older but still larger than life. Now, he looked…smaller.
The realization made my heart and stomach twist, but I didn’t let any of it show on my face. I had to be strong for Israel, had to be at least a fraction of the man Leo had been. I made a silent promise to my friend that if I had to give up everything in L.A. to take care of his dad and grandmother, I would.
“Thank you for coming.” Israel hugged me, and I wished he’d been able to put his arms around his son instead.
“How is she?” I forced myself to ask the question, even though I dreaded the answer.
“She’s resting,” he said as he stepped back. “C’mon. Let’s walk while we talk.”
As he led me to the elevator, he told me what’d happened. “She was starting dinner when she had to sit down because she was having a hard time getting her breath. She’d been sitting there for a couple minutes before I came in and asked if she was okay. You know Mama. She’s always fine. Except she said she didn’t feel right.”
That alone was enough to explain why he looked so ragged. I’d seen Nana Naz handle an entire church dinner while she had a kidney stone.
“I wanted to call for an ambulance, but she kept saying she just needed to rest, but then she fainted and that was it. I called 911. She came to on the way here, but she was disoriented, groggy. I was worried she’d had a stroke. Her dad passed from one when she was twelve.”
I hadn’t known that. “Was it one?”
We stepped off the elevator onto the ICU floor, and he continued, “No, thank the Lord. The doctors ran all these tests and said they think it was a combination of being dehydrated and her blood pressure dropping. They’re keeping her here at least until tomorrow because they’re having a hard time getting it back up.”
That was good to hear, but it didn’t make me less worried. Nana Naz wasn’t really old, but she wasn’t young either. And she’d had a stressful year. Hell, she’d had a stressful life, losing her only child, helping raise her grandson, and then losing him too.
“I thought about calling you and telling you that you didn’t need to come.” Israel stopped next to what I assumed was the door to Nana Naz’s room. “But, honestly, I wasn’t sure I could get through the rest of tonight and tomorrow alone.”
I knew what it cost him to admit that, which meant he was even more freaked out than I’d realized.
“I never should’ve left,” I said, shaking my head. “I promised Leo I’d take care of you both, and I can’t do that from six hours away.”
Israel gave me a hard look. “Where would the two of you be if my son hadn’t died?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Both of you planned to make a full career in the army, right? Even if you boys ever decided to get married, neither of you planned to leave the service this early.”
“Right,” I agreed. “Yeah, we’d still be in the army.”
“In that case, you could’ve been on the other side of the country or the other side of the world, and I’d be right here.” Israel put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m grateful to have you here, but I don’t want you thinking that this means you have to stay in San Ramon for the rest of mine or Mama’s lives. I’d tell Leo the same thing.”
The fact that I knew he’d have done just that didn’t make me feel any better, but I didn’t argue with him. I wasn’t here to prove a point.
Nana Naz was sleeping when we went into the room, and while she looked peaceful, she also looked frail with an IV in her arm and an oxygen tube in her nose. I’d always thought of her as some unstoppable force. Invincible.
People always talk about how teenagers think nothing can touch them, but I think most forget that when we’re young, we think all the stable people in our lives will