I nod. “I came back last fall for a visit that turned into something more.”
I pull out a chair and sit, coffee in hand. I take a moment to shove past the wall that warns against sharing data. I must open up if I expect her to do the same.
“I don’t know if you have any experience with elderly relatives,” I say. “I didn’t. I hadn’t seen my grandmother in years—family squabble—and I wanted to reconnect. I foolishly imagined her as one of the snowbirds over in the city, darting about in the golf carts, soaking up the sun in an active retirement. Not exactly what I found.”
“She was in ill health,” Daisy says. “That’s what I heard at the diner.”
“She’d lost most of her sight. Untreated glaucoma. By the time I got here, it’d progressed too far for surgery, and she had too many other issues to risk it. Unmanaged diabetes, high blood pressure, arthritis... Luckily, I’m self-employed, so staying wasn’t a hardship.”
“That was good timing for your gran,” Daisy says. “Not just getting help, but getting a chance to know you again.”
I relax into my seat. “Yes, and even better, I got a chance to know her. She was a tough old bird. Lived here alone ever since my grandfather died. I don’t even remember him. I barely remember her, to be honest. But I’m glad we had the opportunity to reconnect. She was a remarkable person.”
“She sounds like it,” Daisy murmurs.
“She had deep roots here. That’s why she wouldn’t move to the city. That and the expense, which is one more reason I wish we’d kept in touch. I could have helped.”
There, that should be enough. I inwardly sag with relief, as if I’ve been standing naked on a firing range.
“It must have been difficult,” Daisy says.
I shrug. “She was my grandmother. I owed her that much, and I was happy to be there.”
She rises, dishes in hand, glancing around for a dishwasher. Before I can say there isn’t one, she rinses her plate and mug and puts them in the stack of unwashed dishes.
“May I see the leak?” she asks. “I’ll fix it while my clothing dries. Then I can leave you alone.” A glance at the window. “It’ll be getting dark soon.”
“Then the leak will need to wait until tomorrow,” I say. “The attic is a disaster. I swear Gran hasn’t gotten rid of anything in fifty years. That’s why I hoped to fix the leak from the outside. I’ll need to clear a path for you.”
“We’ll wait for morning. Hopefully, the rain will stop by then, and I can climb onto the roof and do a proper job of it. Is it all right if I borrow this clothing and an umbrella?”
“Force you out for another night in this storm?” I give what I hope is a hearty—and not false at all—laugh. “What kind of person would that make me?”
“It’s all right. I’ve fixed the leaks, so the shed’s dry.”
Her gaze darts toward the door, as if she’s eager to be gone. I hesitate. I need to get to know her better, but I don’t want her staying in my den. Maybe just a token protest, positioning myself as a good person, before accepting her next refusal.
“No, no,” I say. “You must stay. Especially if you’re going to help me fix my leak.”
Daisy hesitates. “I wouldn’t mind sleeping in the lanai, if you were okay with that.”
“The...?”
She smiles. “The screened porch. That’s one thing I recall from my Florida days. They call them lanais.”
Perfect. I can get to know her better while not actually having her in the house.
“If you’re sure...”
“I am. Thank you.”
I lift my coffee mug to my lips to hide my smile.