FOURTEEN
One’s Own Personal Space

Grandma and I stowed all her stuff into her car. Right before we left, Grandma stood in the middle of her kitchen and gazed at Queenie, who lounged on the dining table in the kitchen like she was prime rib on a china platter. Boy, oh boy. If Myra Sue ever got a load of that, she’d keel over from the mere thought of cat germs.

I wondered what Isabel would think about Queenie in the same house with her, especially as ole Isabel was afraid of everything with more than two legs. It was gonna be a test of wills. But I knew one thing: if Queenie bit Isabel, the cat would probably be the one that got sick.

“Maybe we oughta take ’er with us,” Grandma murmured.

“Queenie?” I said, trying hard not to choke. The cat opened one eye and glared at me. I thought fast. “Grandma, I read somewhere that cats don’t like to move. They don’t do well with change.”

She nodded and chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip while she eyed ole Queenie, who lay there twitching the end of her tail and glaring at us. That cat did not blink one time.

“That’s true,” she said. “Queenie doesn’t even like it when I move the furniture to sweep.”

I pressed my advantage. “Well, there you go, then. What if Queenie got all scared and creeped out by being in a new place, and she ran off?”

“Oh my!” Grandma pressed her hand to her mouth. “We wouldn’t want that! No, we’ll just leave Queenie right here, safe and sound in her home. She’ll be good company for Isabel when Ian is working and Myra Susie’s at school.” She reached out to tickle Queenie under the chin. “But Mommy’s gonna miss her widdle puddy tat, won’t she, baby?”

Queenie laid her ears back the way she does when she’s fixing to either bite you or swat you, so Grandma dropped her hand.

I didn’t say a word. I just heaved a sigh of relief that the crazy feline would not be living in our house.

We drove down the short stretch of Rough Creek Road between Grandma’s driveway and ours. When we got to our house, Ian was putting suitcases in the bed of the old pickup truck. He helped Grandma and me tote her things into the house.

“Temple showed up with some teas and such for Lily,” he said. “I put everything on the kitchen counter.”

Ick. Nothing was much worse than Temple’s “teas and such” that you had to drink or eat. For her teas, she boils things like leaves and roots and flowers, and she probably throws tree bark and creek mud and spiderwebs in there, too.

We had supper together, us Reillys and the St. Jameses, just like usual. By then, all that moving and shifting-people-around business was done. Daddy and Mama had their old room back, Grandma was settled upstairs in Myra Sue’s room, and the St. Jameses had moved their belongings into Grandma’s house. Best of all, starting that very evening, ole Myra Sue would be out of the house until Isabel was able to take care of everything herself.

Boy, oh boy, if returning to school had not loomed like a rolling black thundercloud right smack above my head, I would be happier than you can imagine to have my grandma in the house and my sister out of it. Of course, there was the ever-present promise of that baby eventually coming along to make a mess of things.

“In all this hubbub, I plumb forgot to go to town today,” Grandma said while we ate supper. “I think this is the first Tuesday I’ve missed going into town since I moved to Rough Creek Road. Not that I coulda found the time, anyway, even if I hadn’t forgot.”

“Wow, Grandma,” I said, agog at such an idea. I gotta say, I was glad she had not thought of it or found the time to go, ’cause more than likely I would’ve been the one to ride shotgun while she drove like a madwoman to town and back.

Isabel looked at Myra.

“Do you have your things unpacked over at Grandma’s, darling?”

“Yes!” my sister answered, glowing like a Christmas candle. “Two suitcases stuffed full.”

“You won’t need that much,” Mama told her. “You aren’t staying with Ian and Isabel very long. Just until Isabel is on her feet.”

Myra Sue looked utterly pained, as if she had planned to move in, bag and baggage, forever until she died. As much as I liked that idea my own personal self, I don’t think Mama or Daddy would’ve been too pleased about it.