Maybe Clint should have shoveled the sidewalks for Frank an hour earlier, before Josie was awake. Or not have come over at all. But he had seen the six inches of white new powder they’d received in the night, a wet, heavy snow that required lots of bending and lifting. And he couldn’t help worrying about Frank and Josie. After all, Clint was stronger than either of them and he didn’t want Frank out there shoveling at his age.
Having finished breakfast, Clint stepped outside on the back porch. His booted foot bumped a box of colored Christmas lights sitting by the screen door. The day they’d driven up on the mountain to cut their Christmas trees, he’d noticed Josie had some lights in her shopping cart. No doubt she was planning to hang them on Frank’s house, but hadn’t found the time yet. From what he’d seen, she’d had her hands full cleaning up the place. He had to give her credit. She’d done it. Everything looked as tidy as when Viola had been alive.
Again, Clint was impressed by Josie’s thoughtfulness. But when he pictured her clinging to a ladder, trying to staple lights to Frank’s eaves, he got a bad feeling inside. What if she fell and hurt herself? What if she wasn’t strong enough to make the staple gun work?
The thought of her injuring her delicate hands made him cringe. And right then, against his better judgment, he decided he’d better take care of the chore for her. It wouldn’t take long. Gracie was occupied inside with Frank. Clint could get it done within an hour or so. The happy smile on Frank’s face would make it all worthwhile. And secretly, Clint wouldn’t mind seeing a bright smile on Josie’s pretty face, either.
Without asking permission, he took the ladder and staple gun from Frank’s garage and went to work. Minutes later, he was well into the job when the snap of the staples penetrating the wood siding brought Josie outside.
“What are you doing?” Standing on the sidewalk, she gazed up at him as she wiped her damp hands on a yellow dish towel.
“Putting up your lights.” He forced himself not to look at her. Not to think she was attractive. Not to admire anything about her.
“I was going to do that tomorrow,” she said.
“Now you won’t have to. I’ll have it finished within the hour.”
“You’ve done enough already. Really. Stop and come inside.”
“I’ll be done soon.” He kept working. Trying to tell himself he should quit and go home. But he felt compelled to be here. As though his future happiness depended on his service to this family.
“You’re putting me further in debt. How will I ever repay you?” she asked.
Glancing over his shoulder, he grinned. “How about giving me and Gracie some of that peanut brittle you’re planning to make?”
She smiled back, looking completely feminine in her frilly apron and blue, fuzzy slippers. “I think that can be arranged. Especially since Gracie’s inside helping me make it right now. But I have a feeling I’ll owe you so much more than just a tin of homemade peanut brittle.”
He shrugged as he threaded the lights along the living room window frame, and punctuated his words with blasts from the staple gun. “I also like divinity and pumpkin bread.”
He shouldn’t encourage her, but he loved homemade goodies. In fact, now that Vi was gone, he and Gracie rarely got such treats. He certainly didn’t know how to make them. His cooking abilities were limited to mac and cheese, hot dogs, scrambled eggs and cold cereal.
Josie laughed, the sound high and sweet. “I think some pumpkin bread can be arranged, but I’m awful at making divinity. No matter how long I cook it, I can never get it to set up. It always tastes delicious, but you have to eat it with a spoon.”
He chuckled. “Okay, definitely no divinity.”
She folded her arms against the cold air. “You holler if you need help. I’ll hear you through the window.”
He nodded, but he wouldn’t call. As she went inside, he felt a strange sense of elation, as if this was right where he belonged. But that didn’t keep his old friend guilt from chewing at his mind. Clint told himself he was doing these service projects to help Frank and nothing more. Yet he couldn’t help looking forward to seeing Josie again.
His jaw tightened. He was crazy to think such thoughts. He couldn’t understand what had gotten into him. Then again, he knew exactly what the problem was. He’d met a beautiful woman. The first he’d been attracted to in seven long, lonely years. And he wanted to pursue her. To ask her out. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t take the chance of ruining her or Gracie’s lives.
He shook his head. His wayward thoughts were an illusion that would only backfire on him down the road. Christmas brought the healing power of peace. It was a special time that promised joy throughout the year. But Clint knew better. It wasn’t real or lasting for him. No matter how much he liked being near Josie, he could never be with her. Once the holiday ended, they’d each return to their normal lives. They’d pack up their Christmas ornaments and put them away, and Josie would go home. And Clint and Gracie would be alone once more.
Something was wrong. The moment Josie stepped inside the kitchen, she could feel an edge of tension buzzing through the air.
Gramps stood in front of a cupboard, the doors open. He held several cans of soup in his hands. More cans lay haphazardly on the green linoleum, as though they’d been knocked there.
“What are you doing, Gramps?”
He jerked around and another can thudded to the floor. It rolled and thumped against the base of the refrigerator. “I can’t find my chicken noodle soup. You changed the labels on me.”
A look of confusion crossed his face. Gracie’s charming voice came from the living room, singing Christmas carols with some kid show on TV.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t recognize the labels. It’s all different. I don’t buy this brand of soup.”
In a flash, Josie realized what had happened. She’d bought groceries and put them away in the cupboard. She’d obviously purchased a different brand of soup than Gramps was used to. Since he couldn’t read the labels, he didn’t know which can to choose for lunch. But his tension seemed more than just about soup.
“I’m sorry, Gramps. I didn’t realize. Let me help you.”
She reached to take the cans, but he jerked away. “Don’t. I’ll do it myself.”
Stunned by his brusque tone, she pulled back and watched him.
The back door opened and Clint stepped inside and smiled. “Hey, Frank, I’m out of staples for the staple gun. If you don’t have any, I can run over to my place to get some.”
He froze, seeing Gramps’s incredulous expression. No doubt sensing the anxiety in the room like a blast of chilly January wind.
Clint clamped his mouth shut and stood there, his snow-covered boots dripping onto the old, tattered towel Josie had laid in front of the door for this exact purpose.
“I’m useless. Good for nothing. I can’t even find a can of chicken noodle soup,” Gramps said.
He bent down to pick up the fallen items, his hands visibly shaking. What was wrong? Josie didn’t understand.
She reached to help, wrapping her arms around him. Holding on tight as she offered reassurance. “You’re good for everything. You’re my grandpa and I love you.”
He pushed her away and searing pain burned through his eyes. “If that’s true, then why are you trying to get rid of me?”
Her mouth dropped open in shock. “What do you mean?”
He gestured angrily toward the phone. “The Sunnyside Assisted Living Center just called. They asked me to tell you they need a firm commitment by the end of today. Otherwise they’ll have to release the room you’ve reserved to someone else.”
Oh, no. A heavy weight settled on Josie’s chest. This wasn’t about soup at all. Not really. She didn’t want this to happen today. Not like this. “Gramps, I didn’t—”
He slashed a hand through the air, cutting her off. She flinched.
“I told them you only have one grandpa.” Gramps’s deep voice escalated. “And I said I sure wasn’t gonna move into no cramped room in an assisted-living center. I thanked them for their time, but told them you wouldn’t be needing the room, after all. Not unless you’ve got another grandpa I don’t know about.”
He arched his bushy brows, his expression stern, his steely eyes filled with hurt and betrayal. Without waiting for her reply, he slammed a can of soup down on the countertop, turned and stomped into the living room.
Josie couldn’t move, as though her feet were nailed to the floor. She couldn’t breathe. A hollow feeling settled in the pit of her stomach and she wanted to burst into tears.
She felt Clint’s gaze like a leaden weight, and embarrassment heated her cheeks. She hated that he’d witnessed this scene. She looked up and blinked. Instead of censure and disapproval, she saw compassion written across his face.
“I know, I know. You don’t have to say it,” she said.
“Say what?”
“That I should have told him sooner. That I shouldn’t have waited so long. But I’ve only been home a couple of days. I haven’t found the right time. I thought I was doing something good. Now it’s too late.”
She waited for Clint to scold her. To tell her she was inconsiderate and cruel. Instead, he nodded toward the living room, speaking in a soothing voice.
“Go in and speak with him now. It’s not too late to explain everything. He knows you love him. Just tell him about your concerns and that you’re worried about him. It’ll all turn out fine.”
Ha! She wished she could believe him. But his words of encouragement didn’t inspire much confidence in her at this moment. Still, she appreciated his nonjudgmental attitude more than she could ever say.
“Gracie!” Clint called out. “It’s time to go home, sweetheart.”
“Ah, but I want to stay,” she protested, clearly oblivious to what had occurred.
“Sorry, but we’re leaving right now. Come on,” he insisted.
Gracie groaned.
A long pause followed and the girl finally appeared in her stocking feet, dragging her red vinyl coat behind her. “But when can I come back and play with Josie and Grandpa Frank?”
“Maybe later,” Clint said.
Josie watched in leaden silence while he helped his daughter tug on her boots and zip up her coat. He opened the door and ushered Gracie outside, but turned at the last moment to give Josie one last smile of support.
“Just tell him the truth. And remember that he loves you, too,” Clint said.
He closed the door and she stood alone with her inner turmoil.
The truth. She didn’t know what it was anymore. All her life, she’d worked so hard to get ahead. Memories of the loneliness and poverty she’d endured with Mom still haunted her. Now Josie had a good job that provided for all her needs, but she lived alone. Over the years, she’d grown more disenchanted with her life. Even her houseplants didn’t seem to thrive. She’d never dare have a dog, cat or hamster. Or another boyfriend, for that matter. Ignoring her faults helped insulate her from the pain of failure. But she had to face it. She was antisocial and unlovable, just as Edward had said. What did her success matter if she had no one to share it with?
She inhaled deeply, trying to settle her nerves. Trying to formulate what she should say to Gramps. She had to speak to him now. No more delays. It wouldn’t get easier by waiting.
Gathering her courage, she stepped into the living room. He sat in his worn recliner, staring vacantly out the window, his hands resting on his knees. She wondered how he’d gotten so old. All her life, he’d been the mainstay of her family. He and Grandma had been the only people in her life who had loved her unconditionally. So energetic and strong. So self-assured. He’d led an active, vital life. Always confident and in control. No matter what the problem, he had all the answers. But now he didn’t. And neither did she.
Sitting on the sofa across from him, she clicked off the kid show on TV, leaving the room in a deafening silence. She realized even an elderly person needed reassurance sometimes. To know their life meant something to others. To feel loved and appreciated for the sacrifices they’d made and the good life they’d lived.
“Gramps, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out this way. I wanted to sit down and talk with you about it first.”
His gray eyes clashed, then locked with hers, and she inwardly cringed at the accusation and doubt she saw there.
“I never thought my own granddaughter would want to lock me away in an old folks’ home.” His voice was harsh with anger.
She flinched, thinking how heartless it sounded when he put it that way. “I would never lock you anywhere, Gramps. I love you.”
He snorted. “Is that why you came here? To pack me off to that place?”
“No! I came to spend the holidays with you. To be near you. I’d love for you to live in Las Vegas with me, but I won’t make you do something you don’t want to do.”
“Why would you ever think of putting me in an old folks’ home?”
“It’s not an old folks’ home. It’s an assisted-living center.”
He shrugged. “It’s the same thing to me.”
She couldn’t argue with that. She told herself she must be patient with him. He’d received a series of harsh blows lately. Grandma’s death months earlier, having to learn to read, and now this. Josie wanted to encourage him. To make him understand how much she cared. That no matter what, she’d never desert him. Not ever.
“You’d maintain your independence there and have an apartment all to yourself,” she said. “You could come and go as you like. But you wouldn’t need to worry about yard work anymore, or shoveling the snow, raking leaves or mowing the lawn.”
His mouth dropped open in shock. “But I love working in my yard, Josie. It’s what keeps me young and strong. And who’d tend Ma’s rosebushes if I left here?”
Rosebushes? Josie hadn’t thought about that. And that’s when she realized a house wasn’t just a place where you lived to keep out the cold. It was a home you built with your loved ones day after day. Planting flowers. Repairing leaky faucets. Painting walls and hanging curtains. The place where you ate your meals and gathered together in the evening with your family, to share your life. Where you built all your hopes and dreams and then brought them to fruition.
She couldn’t blame Gramps for wanting to stay. But that didn’t change the fact that he was getting older and needed more care.
“There’re lots of people your age living in this center, Gramps, so you’d have lots of companionship. You could cook or take your meals in the dining hall with the other patrons. They have fun activities for you, too. You’d be busy all the time, but if you got tired, you could rest. The weather is so much warmer there, and I’d be able to visit you every week. We’d be able to spend more time together.”
And she wouldn’t be worried he might collapse and not be found for hours or days, until it was too late to rush him to the hospital for help.
He lifted a gnarled hand. “I have lots of companionship right here in Camlin. All my friends at church, and down at the civic center. They care about me, Josie. They’re good to me and I love them. I don’t want to leave.”
She nodded in understanding. “Then you don’t have to go. I just thought it would be good for both of us. My intentions were never to lock you up and abandon you there. Not ever. And if you don’t want to go, you won’t. So that’s the end of it. Now that I know how you feel about it, you’ll stay right here.”
The harsh lines around his mouth and eyes softened. “Good. I’m glad we got that settled.”
She was, too, although it wasn’t the outcome she’d hoped for.
She reached out and folded her hands over his. “I love you, Gramps. I just want what’s best for you. I want to take care of you....”
He jerked his hands away. “I don’t need you to take care of me. The good Lord does that for me. And I’m strong yet.”
“I...I didn’t mean it that way, Gramps.”
His expression softened. “I know, muffin. I’m sorry to be so touchy about this. But I’m not afraid. God has never let me down. Not once. I’ll stay right here until the day I die.”
And she dreaded that day. But she envied Gramps and Clint their faith. How Josie wished she could trust God the way they did. But that would mean giving the Lord another chance, and she didn’t know if she was ready for that step. Not yet, anyway.
“I’ve been living in this house for seventy-five years. I was only three when my folks moved here. What were you planning to do with my home?” Gramps asked.
Josie took a deep breath before letting it go. “I thought of several options. We could close up the house, rent it out, or we could sell it.”
“Sell it? Why, this house has been in my family for years.” Horror ignited in his eyes and he glared at her as if she’d just asked him to shoot off his own foot.
She held up her hands. “So we won’t sell it. We could keep it and visit anytime you like. I’d drive you home.”
He snorted. “You rarely have time to visit me now. What makes you think you’d have time to drive me home to visit an empty old house?”
Oh, that hurt. Because he was right. And they both knew it. Josie couldn’t deny it. Living so far away made visiting here difficult. Things always kept getting in the way. But she realized work couldn’t fill up all the empty places inside her heart. Not anymore. Only love could do that.
“I’m sorry, Gramps. I just want to do what’s best for you. I’m worried about you.”
“You don’t need to worry about me, Josie. I can accept God’s will. And you should accept Him, too. In the meantime, I’ll live right here to the best of my abilities.”
That was just it. She couldn’t accept it. Because when Gramps died, she’d have no one left. She’d be by herself.
Truly and wretchedly alone.