Nobody expects to lose their parents as an 18-year-old. It just doesn’t happen. I learned the hard way that it does happen, though, and that there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.
Gram kept me sane. Her own heartbreak at losing her daughter and son-in-law was evident, but she was able to see past her own sadness enough to help me. I know I can never repay her for that, but I do my best.
That’s what this weekend is all about: reconnecting, being grateful, and communicating. We’re going to have some hardcore “girls only” time that’s long overdue.
We used to hang out every day. I
miss it. Now that I’m constantly swamped with legal cases, I only see her once or twice a month. It’s not often enough. I know Grams is worried about intruding on my life as a new graduate, but the truth is that I feel the same way.
Does she really want to spend her retirement listening to the problems of her 25-year-old grandkid?
I didn’t think so.
I close the door to the little house and follow Grandma into the kitchen. I take a deep whiff and my stomach immediately growls. She shoots me a knowing look, and I smile sheepishly. We both know I’m really bad about remembering to eat. It’s definitely one of those things that falls under “I should have learned this by now.”
“Cookies?” I ask. “Did you bake just for me?”
She smiles and nods toward a plate in the center of the counter, where a pile of chocolate chip cookies are cooling. Her grin is big when she notices my reaction.
“Of course, dear. I can’t have my favorite granddaughter going hungry, now can I?”
“I’m your only granddaughter,” I say with a mouthful of cookies, and she waves me away. A glass of milk appears in front of me and I down it quickly, then wipe my face with the back of my sleeve.
“Just like when you were a girl,” Grandmother says, shaking her head in mock protest. “Some things never change.”
Grandma picks up her knitting and asks me all about work and I quiz her on her quilting group. I want to know how Betty and Carrie and Mrs. Helsley are doing. They’re all alive and kicking, Grandma assures me, though Mrs. Helsley has been busy with new projects and hasn’t been to meetings in awhile.
By 10:00, I’m exhausted, and I can’t hide my yawn.
“Bedtime for you,” Grandma says, and I roll my eyes.
“I guess we have an early morning,” I concede, and she just laughs.
“You always were a stubborn one, little Red.” I kiss Grandma goodnight and head upstairs to my old room. Technically, it’s the guest room, but I lived there for four years in college, so I always think of it as mine.
I brush my teeth and crawl into bed. At dawn, we’re heading out on a camping trip, just the two of us. It’s been awhile since we went up to her old hunting cabin, but I know it’s going to be a great week of relaxing and enjoying the wilderness together. We’re going to swim and eat and read. She’ll knit and I might work on a new art project.
The possibilities are endless.
As a girl, I always loved the woods and now, the chance to get out of Nellenston for a little while is much too tempting. There are too many weird things to deal with at work right now, too many strange problems and issues. I haven’t had a break since I started my job just after graduation and if I do say so myself, I think I’m well overdue for something like this.
I snuggle up under the heavy handmade quilt and for once in my life, everything just feels right. Being at Gram’s feels like coming home. It’s the best feeling in the world and tomorrow, we’re going to have an amazing adventure.
**
The smell of coffee wakes me and I roll out of bed and yawn. I glance at the alarm clock blinking on the bedside table. 5:34am. Much too early for me to be awake. More importantly, why is Gram awake? She’s always been an early riser, but for her, that means 7:00. Not two hours before that.
I wonder if she had a bad dream. Maybe she just wanted to get an early start. She didn’t mention it, so I didn’t bother to ask what time she wanted to leave. We’re both kind of casual when it comes to taking trips, so neither one of us ever stresses about leaving “on time.”
I’m awake, so I might as well stay up. Plus, if Grandma is up, she might want help loading the car. We’ll probably take her SUV up to the woods, then hike the rest of the way to the cabin. Oh yeah, my ol’ Grams isn’t afraid of a good, old-fashioned hike. Not much scares her. It’s one of the things I love about her.
I slowly open the bedroom door and pad down the hallway in my socks. Call if lazy, but I didn’t want to unpack my PJs last night. I’m still in my clothes from the day before: jeans and a tee, complete with my car keys still in my pocket. My hip is killing from where they were pressed against me all night. I shake my head at my own stupidity. I was so tired that I literally just crashed.
Maybe I need this vacation more than I thought.
I know Gram’s going to have a fit when she sees me, but I try not to worry as I quietly make my way down the stairs, careful to dodge the squeaky ones. I lived here far too long to be caught off guard by something as mundane as a squeaky stair. I finished making my way downstairs and round the corner into the living room. The lights are still off in the living room, the there’s a glow coming from the kitchen.
And that smell.