I pushed the door open to her small apartment. “Grandma?”

“Who is that?”

“It’s me, Kaitlyn Camp — I mean Sheffield, Katie Sheffield. Your granddaughter.” I dropped my keys in my purse and hung my bag over the rack near the front door. “I’m Paige and John’s daughter, you know, your son, John Sheffield?”

I glanced around the room. It was dark, but usually was on Thursday mornings. I tried to get here before the staff so I could take her to breakfast.

She was still in bed as usual. I turned on lights and opened the blinds letting the bright Florida late March sun stream in. “Good morning!” I said as cheerily as possible though cheery had been kind of a long distant memory. I pulled her bedcovers off while she still looked up at me confused.

“Katie?”

“Yep, Katie. I’m here for our breakfast date in the dining room. Twice a week whether you want it or not. Today’s Thursday so here I am.” I gave her my arm and helped hoist her from the bed.

“Where’s Jack?”

I sighed. “Jack is in heaven now, you’ll see him someday.”

I walked her to the bathroom and helped her use the toilet. She was distracted for a moment with all the activity. But then she said, “Jack would be worried about him. He really liked him.” I helped her get back on her feet and led her to the bathroom sink and squirted toothpaste on her brush. “Who Grandma?” I watched her brush her teeth and pulled a hairbrush from a drawer and ran it through her thin white hair.

“Magnus, dear. He’s been gone for a long time.” She squinted her eyes as if she was considering new information. Then shook her head of it.

I smiled, because if you want to feel better the first rule is: smile.

I smiled like a maniac as I led my grandma to the dining room like I was the cheeriest fucker in the world.

Hey guys, it’s me, Katie Sheffield. Except I’m married now. And my husband is missing. You may have heard — the whole island is talking about it. He’s rich and missing and now I live in an apartment and people whisper about me and I have to ignore it. My friends have to treat me like I’m a special case. They whisper about me too. Things like, what day is your day to check on her? And, did you check on her yesterday?

Kind of like me checking on my grandmother every other day.

Because you never knew what each new day would bring — what kind of mortal blow.

Everyone knew us in the dining room. Grandma chatted with a few other residents and I bantered with our regular waiter.

Then Grandma said, “You look like hell.”

“Thanks Grandma.” I chuckled. “And who am I?”

“You’re apparently John’s daughter, Katie, though she used to be a happy kid.” She stirred cream into her coffee.

“Yeah, the world has kind of beaten down little ol’ Katie and turned her into the haggard depressed woman you see before you. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Why not?”

“I have terrible dreams. About Magnus.”

She said, “Magnus was like family to Jack and me.”

“He is family, I married him.”

“That’s right. I remember now. And he’s gone. That’s why he doesn’t come to see me anymore.” She stared off into space.

I sighed. She was especially weird today, spacey yet thoughtful. Like her brain was remembering things but the strain of it was overloading her synapses. She was also frail almost like she was withering away. “I’ve been having this recurring dream, I’m somewhere, like the beach—”

“Looking for shark teeth, you do love doing that.”

“Exactly!” I beamed at her. She remembered something about me. “It’s true, I love it. In my dream I’m looking down, but I can hear him — Magnus. He’s yelling my name and I know he’s nearby but I can’t look. My head won’t turn. It’s like I’m purposefully ignoring him but I get frantic because I’m stuck, and—”

Grandma was looking right at me now listening and focused. “Are there more, dear?”

“Yes, in another one I’m looking up at this tree I saw once in Scotland. Magnus and I were arguing, but for some reason I noticed it. It was beautiful, two trunks entwined, and I’m looking up at the tree and I can hear Magnus calling me again. But I won’t look away from the tree.” The waitress poured more coffee in my cup and told us the food would be out in just a minute.

I finished, “There are more, but that’s the crux, I hear him but I can’t notice him. I guess it’s just that he’s missing… It’s making my mind believe I can hear him.”

“Oh it’s much deeper than that, dear.” Our plates were delivered interrupting her thought. We were offered ketchup, Grandma needed salt. She asked for more coffee. By the time the food was fully served I was pretty sure she wouldn’t remember the conversation. But I was curious. I missed her helpful wisdoms so much.

“What were you going to say? You said, ‘It’s much deeper than that,’ about my dreams — I’m sorry to press but ever since I lost the baby and then Magnus, I just need some advice.”

She furrowed her brow for a moment then said out of nowhere, “Quantum entanglements, Jack is fascinated by them.”

“I know the word, not sure I get…”

“Some particles become so close they can’t be independent. Even when they’re separated by a large distance.”

I continued to chew a piece of bacon trying to grasp where her Alzheimer’s-riddled mind was going with this.

But she seemed pleased with herself like that explained what she meant.

I asked, “What?”

“Dear, you were going to have his baby — did you know when you make a baby together, bits of the baby’s genetic material become a part of your body? And the baby was made up of both of you so you are carrying bits of your baby and your husband inside — wrapped, tied, knotted — it’s science.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and if you’re truly entangled, you would be tied even though you’re separated by time and space. Hence the dreams.”

“So you think Magnus is communicating through my dreams? It's not just my mind but it’s really him I’m hearing?”

“No, that would be crazy. Maybe it’s not crazy at all. Maybe what your dreams are telling you is don’t give up hope, but to listen. To open yourself to the possibility you might be entangled with him still even though he’s gone.”

I looked down at my plate trying to think about all of that.

“Most of the time when I bring up Jack, you remind me that Jack isn’t here anymore. And I know Jack isn’t here. I know it here,” she tapped on her temple, “most days. But here,” she patted her heart, “he’s still with me. I swear I can hear him sometimes. His shifts and movements, like he’s just behind me. That’s because I’ve got his genetic material tied to mine. It’s overriding my common sense. He’s present and he’s everywhere, because he’s in my particles.”

“So I’m alive and it keeps Magnus alive?”

“Exactly.”

I shoved my chair back, circled the table, threw my arms around my grandma, and held on.