Chapter 19
Annie left early Monday morning, but not before Leota was able to take care of business. Leota felt relieved and faintly smug that she had managed to get Annie’s signatures on several documents without her granddaughter being the least bit suspicious. One set was for the bank, the other for Charles Rooks, who had prepared everything as swiftly as though she were about to die.
Her greatest worry had been how she would convince Annie to sign everything prepared for her. If Annie realized what she was doing, she might protest. However, all the worrying had been wasted. All Leota had needed to do was tell Annie the truth: she wanted to be sure there was someone who could step in to help if the need arose. With Eleanor still angry and George so distant, it made perfect sense to have Annie as her executor and give her power of attorney.
That was all Annie had needed to hear. She signed on the dotted line. She didn’t even read anything. She obeyed Leota’s wishes. It wouldn’t have mattered to the girl if she were signing her life away. Of course, she had no idea what all she had signed. Leota had only told her half the truth, not all of it. . . .
For the first time in months, Leota walked alone to do her errands. She registered and posted the envelope to Charles Rooks. He would keep everything secure in his office files and safe, as they’d agreed. She sat on a bench to rest for a few minutes, then went into the grocery store to buy a roasted chicken, ready-made salad with dressing in the package, and two éclairs. Why not celebrate? Everything was settled.
Exhausted when she got home, she fed Barnaby and sat down to rest. She settled into her chair, her eyes drifting shut. Thank You, Jesus, for my precious granddaughter. She has been better to me than ten daughters and sons. Please watch over her and protect her in the days ahead, for they will be rocky. Give her wisdom when she makes her decision. I don’t even know what to pray for Eleanor and George anymore, Lord. Am I wrong to wish?
With a sigh, she drifted to sleep.
Arba’s children came after school. Leota served them peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. They’d been hoping for turkey, but she said it was all gone. She read two chapters from The Secret Garden. They wanted more, but she said it was time to buckle down to homework. Arba arrived at five and asked Leota to dinner. “I bought a pizza on the way home.” Much to the children’s noisy delight.
“Not this evening, dear, but thank you.”
Arba studied her. “Are you all right, Leota?”
“I’m fine, just worn out after all the festivities.” And she was, bone tired, weaker than usual.
“I’ll check on you later.”
“If you do, you’ll likely wake me up and I won’t thank you for it.”
Arba had long since gotten used to Leota’s brisk manner and grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me that a good, long rest won’t cure.”
“The children won’t be coming over tomorrow, Leota. I’m picking them up early and taking them in for dental checkups.” There was an immediate protest at her announcement.
“We’re right in a good part of the story!”
“Ah, Mama.”
“I don’t need to go to the dentist.”
Arba hushed them again. “Thank Grandma Leota and head for home.” They said their sad good-byes and filed out of Leota’s house, following Arba like little ducklings. Leota chuckled and closed the door. No doubt they’d feel better when Arba opened that box of pizza.
Annie called half an hour later.
Leota frowned. “Did Arba call you?”
“She said you were looking tired.”
“I am tired. And since I answered the telephone, you know I’m not sick or dead.”
“I’ve been thinking . . .”
Leota could imagine. With Annie’s soft heart, she was probably worrying about those papers she’d signed and what they might mean. The poor dear probably thought her grandmother had covered all the bases and now intended to zing off like a fly ball, right over the center fielder’s head and out of the park. Home run, straight into the Lord’s arms. Well, not a chance. Not now. Not when she had a faint glimmer of hope. Thanksgiving had given her that.
“Sometimes thinking too much can get you into trouble, honey. What you did will help me sleep nights, Annie. Now, don’t feel you have to call me every single day. Spend more time painting something wonderful and stop worrying about this old hag.”
For all she said to Annie, she couldn’t sleep. Tired as she was, her mind was whirring. There was a constant buzzing in her ears, like a hive of busy bees. She finally gave up and got out of bed. She still needed to write letters to Eleanor and George, explaining why she had done things as she had.
She sat at the nook table, wrapped snugly in her bathrobe. Her feet were cold, despite her slippers. She didn’t want to turn the heat up yet. She never turned it up until seven in the morning. It was barely three.
The note to Annie was easy . . . precious Annie, open and free of all resentment, a breath of fresh air in this house of stale memories. George’s letter was a little harder. He reminded her so much of Bernard, holding all his troubles inside. What could it be? Business? Thank God he anesthetized himself with television sports rather than alcohol. Or was that any better? She hoped Jeanne would break through to him before his children were grown and gone.
Eleanor was another matter. Leota drafted three letters and discarded them all. Every time she tried to think of ways to explain herself to Eleanor, she felt deeper despair. No amount of explaining would get through to someone who had already made up her mind, and Eleanor’s was set in stone. Finally, Leota wrote simply what was in her heart. The only thing she could do was state the truth. Simple, brief, heartfelt. Let Eleanor do with it as she would. Folding the letter, she tucked it in an envelope. Then she put the letters where she hoped they would one day be found.
She felt strange. She sat on the edge of her bed, troubled. The buzzing in her ears had grown worse. She felt an odd sensation . . . then a ping in her head, one small stab of pain, and finally a strange warmth—like someone’s hand cupping her ear. Her right arm was numb. When she stood to go into the bathroom, she had no feeling or strength in her right leg. There was just dead weight, pulling her down, down, down . . .
She heard a thud, but could make no sense of it. How had she ended up on the cold, wood floor?
Corban noticed two newspapers on the porch when he came up the steps. The mailbox attached to the side of the house next to the front door was jammed full. Frowning, he rang the doorbell and waited. No response. Usually, Leota was watching television on Wednesday mornings. He didn’t hear a sound coming from inside the house. Frowning, he went around to the back. Sometimes she sat at the nook table and worked crossword puzzles while waiting for him.
The shade was down. It was never down during the day.
He uttered a curse and ran around to the front door again. “Leota!” He pounded on the door. Still no response, not a single sound. He dug in his pocket for his keys, jingling through them until he found the one she had given him. He jammed it in the lock and opened the door.
“Leota?” He stepped into the house for the first time uninvited, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. The stench assaulted his senses, as if the toilet had overflowed. Breathing through his mouth, he called her name again. When he stepped into the corridor, he saw her lying crumpled beside her bed. She looked dead.
Sick at heart, he went down on one knee. He took her wrist. Her skin was paper thin and she was cold. Her eyes were open and seemed blank until he put his hand gently over them, intending to close them. She made a grunting sound, and his body jerked back in surprise.
“I’ll get help,” he said. He didn’t want to leave her on the floor, but he was afraid to lift her and put her on the bed. What if she’d broken bones when she fell? Moving her could hurt her even more. Standing, he yanked the spread off the bed and covered her carefully. “Hang on, Leota. Don’t you die on me!”
After making the call, Corban opened the front door and went back into the bedroom to sit on the floor beside Leota. “Just hang on.” He held her hand and rubbed it. “Hang on.” He kept saying it like a mantra—“Hang on; hang on”—while his mind was screaming, Hurry, hurry! It took ten minutes for the fire truck and paramedics to arrive, the longest ten minutes of Corban’s life. He stood and moved back out of the way, feeling helpless while the EMTs worked. They were swift and efficient, but it was clear things didn’t look too good.
“Too dehydrated to get a line in her,” one said.
“Pulse reedy . . .”
“Let’s get a move on!”
“Are you a relative?”
“A friend. I’ll notify the family. Where will you take her?”
The technician gave him the name of the hospital.
“Wait a minute!” Corban stepped over before they wheeled Leota out the door. He was afraid they were wheeling her right out of his life for good. He took her hand, his own shaking. “Leota.” Her gaze wandered to him, dazed, confused. He wondered if she could understand anything. “I’ll call Annie, Leota. Then I’ll come to the hospital.” He squeezed her hand gently. “Hang on!”
Annie knew something was wrong the moment the classroom door opened and Susan came in. “Corban called. Your grandmother collapsed. They’ve taken her to the hospital in an ambulance.”
Scrambling to put her art supplies away, Annie tried not to cry. “Is she going to be all right?”
“I don’t know, Annie.”
Everyone was staring, some with sympathy, others annoyed at the interruption. The instructor came over. “Go ahead, Miss Gardner. I’ll gather up your things and leave them at the office for you.”
“Which hospital?” Annie said, racing down the hallway with Susan. She started to cry. “Oh, Suzie. I knew something was wrong when Arba called me Monday night. I should’ve gone back then.”
“Your grandmother told you herself she was fine.”
“I shouldn’t have believed her. I should’ve gone to check on her. I should’ve called her last night.”
“Annie, you can’t be everywhere at once. Besides, no one ever knows when their time comes.” She grimaced. “Sorry.” They went out the doors into the misting afternoon air. The sky was overcast with a heavy chance of rain.
“I’d better drive,” Susan said when they reached the parking lot. “You’re in no condition to get behind the wheel.”
“You’re on the schedule to work.”
“Let them fire me!”
Annie took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. Lord, You’re in control. I know You’re in control. No matter what happens, I know my grandmother’s life is in Your hands. “I’ll be okay, Suzie. I knew this would happen someday.” Oh, God, not so soon. I’ve only had a little time with her. I want more!
“Give me your hands.” Susan planted herself in front of the car door and held hers out, a determined glint in her eyes. “I’m not letting you go until you stop shaking.” Annie did as she asked. Susan held her hands lightly for a moment. “Okay.” She kissed Annie’s cheek. “Just go slowly, would you? It won’t do any good if you have a wreck getting to the hospital.”
“I’ll be careful. I promise.” She opened the car door and slid in.
“Safety belt.” Susan was holding on to the door and watching her.
“Yes, mother,” she said dryly. “Oh! Did you call my mother?”
“I’ll call her as soon as I get to work. That’ll give you enough time to get to the hospital before she does.”
If she does. Annie couldn’t help the thought. Would her mother even bother to come?
Oh, God, if Mother doesn’t come now, I’ll go and drag her by the hair to the hospital!
Fighting back tears, Annie started the car and backed out of the space. Aware of Susan’s watchful gaze, she shifted carefully and drove slowly from the lot. As soon as the traffic cleared, she pulled out and was on her way.
Hang on, Grandma. Oh, Lord, don’t take her yet. Please, don’t take her!
When he arrived at the hospital, Corban couldn’t get much information on Leota’s condition. The first question was always “Are you a member of the family?” As soon as he said he was just a friend, they refused to tell him anything. Even when he said he was the one who had found her and called 911, they were hesitant to reveal anything.
Frustrated and worried, he decided to sit it out in the waiting room. When Annie arrived, she would tell him what was going on and how Leota was doing. He wasn’t going home until he knew.
She arrived, racing down the corridor, her face ashen. “My grandmother was brought in. Leota Reinhardt. Where is she, please?” When he touched her arm, she turned. “Oh, Corban!” She flung herself into his arms. “Thank God you found her!” The nurse gave him an apologetic look and told Annie her grandmother was still undergoing tests. She would notify the doctor that Mrs. Reinhardt’s granddaughter had arrived.
They sat in the waiting room together, but Annie couldn’t sit still for very long. She paced, sat, got up and looked out the window, paced some more, sat. Corban saw Eleanor and Fred before Annie did. Eleanor Gaines looked pale and stressed, her eyes dark but not red-rimmed from crying, as Annie’s were.
“Mother!” Annie said. Corban noticed she didn’t fling herself into her mother’s arms, but kept a safe distance from the cold front. “Thank God you’ve come.”
“What’s he doing here?”
At Annie’s quick blush, Corban clenched his hands. How had a woman like Eleanor Gaines ever produced a daughter like Annie?
“Corban found Grandma. He’s the one who called 911.” Annie gave him a grateful smile. “He’s been waiting to find out how Grandma Leota’s doing.”
“How is she doing?”
“Nice of you to ask,” Corban said before he could stop himself.
“That’s uncalled for,” Fred said quietly, his hand firm beneath his wife’s elbow.
“Sorry.” Corban ran a hand back through his hair. He conceded he had spoken too quickly, but Eleanor Gaines’s attitude made him boil.
Annie was crying again. She turned away from her mother and stepfather and sat down on the sofa, burying her face in her hands. Eleanor looked uncomfortable.
“Anne-Lynn.” She approached hesitantly, her hand hovering over Annie’s hair, then sat down slowly on the sofa beside her daughter. “This wasn’t unexpected.”
“It was to me,” Annie said, hiccuping a sob.
“Get ahold of yourself, dear.” Eleanor glanced quickly around at the others sitting in the waiting room. Her eyes grazed Corban’s with dislike.
The feeling is mutual, lady.
She took a fancy handkerchief from her leather purse and offered it to Annie. “Your grandmother is very old. Things are bound to go wrong with her health. We all go sometime, dear.”
Annie looked at her mother, drawing back slightly. “She’s your mother! Don’t you even care that you might lose her?”
Eleanor went white at Annie’s words. She sat frozen when Annie jumped up and paced again.
“Of course, I care about her,” Eleanor said belatedly, her eyes dark with some indefinable emotion.
Annie turned and stared at her. “Since when have you cared, Mother? Did you care about making Thanksgiving special for your mother? Not on your life. You only came to Thanksgiving dinner because you couldn’t convince Uncle George to stay away, and I wouldn’t come home!”
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that!” Eleanor rose from the sofa.
“Why, Mother? Because it’s the truth?” Tears ran down Annie’s cheeks, and Corban had to fight off the strong urge to go to her and hold her close. “You did everything you could to ruin the day for Grandma and make everyone else miserable. You even threw the turkey away!”
Eleanor’s face turned deep red. She glanced around again, clearly aware that everyone in the waiting room had stopped watching Annie and was now looking at her. “Stop this tantrum right now, Anne-Lynn.”
Corban’s eyes widened. Mrs. Gaines’s voice was actually trembling.
Annie’s voice, on the other hand, was firm. “Why? Because you’re embarrassed? You should be.”
“You’re making a fool of yourself.”
“So what? Do you think I care if I look foolish? I’m just taking after my mother!”
“Annie . . . ,” Fred said gently.
She turned on him. “Don’t defend her! Maybe if someone had bothered to tell her the truth a long time ago, she wouldn’t be so hard-hearted.”
“How can you accuse me of that?” Eleanor was crying now. “After all I’ve sacrificed for you.”
“You sacrificed, Mother. And you never let Michael and me forget it. You reminded us every step of the way. But what was it all about? All you ever cared about was making Michael and me into your little trophies. Look at what Eleanor accomplished! Not once did you ever make a sacrifice of love. Not the way Grandma Leota did for you and Uncle George.”
“You don’t know anything about the way it was!”
“You’re the one who doesn’t know, Mother! You never knew! You never cared to know!”
Face agonized, Eleanor grabbed her purse and tucked it beneath her arm. “I won’t stay and listen to this!” She sailed from the room like the Titanic, full steam ahead, straight for the iceberg.
“That’s right, Mother! Run away!” Annie called after her. “That’s what you always do when things don’t go your way, isn’t it? Go ahead. Leave!” With that, she sat again, weeping.
“There are things you don’t know, Annie.”
At Fred’s quiet comment, Annie’s eyes flashed at him. “Don’t you dare say a word against my grandmother, Fred. All you know about her is what my mother’s told you.” She clasped her hands tightly as though trying to hold in the violence of her emotions.
His face was filled with compassion. “I wasn’t going to speak against Leota.” He sat down beside Annie and put his hand over hers. “Your mother loves Leota more deeply than you can understand, honey. She’s just afraid of showing it.”
“Well, she better hurry up and learn how!”
Corban couldn’t listen any longer. He needed to get out of the room and walk. Somewhere. Anywhere. All the emotions pouring out of Annie and Eleanor had his own in a riot. He’d had to grit his teeth not to leap up and join in the fray, so instead he went down the corridor and stopped at the emergency counter. “Any word?”
“We’ll let the family know as soon as we hear anything, Mr. Solsek.”
“Thanks. Thanks a lot.” He stalked away, banging the doors open and striding outside.
Eleanor Gaines was hunched against the wall, her coat drawn tightly around her, her face ravaged by tears. When she saw it was Corban, she turned her face away.
Mouth tight, he walked on.
Leota tried not to let fear reign, but that was difficult in an unfamiliar environment surrounded by strangers. Lights and sounds . . . a tunnel. What on earth were they doing to her? She faded in and out, dreaming peacefully of her garden for a while. Then someone would move her and she’d wake up, confused and annoyed at so rude an interruption. Finally, she roused from sleep, found light coming in a window, and saw Annie sitting in a chair beside her bed.
“Hi, Grandma.” She leaned closer, smiling. “You’re going to be all right.”
“Where am I, dear? What’s happened?”
Annie frowned. “I don’t understand, Grandma.” She looked frightened.
Well, no more than Leota was frightened, hearing the garbled sounds coming from her own mouth. What was wrong with her tongue? Frustrated, she tried again, but only confused words came out.
Leota started to cry.
Annie’s blue eyes welled with tears too. She stroked Leota’s arm—at least Leota could see her doing it, but she couldn’t feel a thing.
“Am I dying?”
Annie glanced up at someone out of Leota’s range of vision. “Does she understand me?”
“There’s no way to know,” a woman said. “Just keep talking to her. She’s responding. That’s a good sign.”
“Can I tell her what’s going on?” Annie said in a quieter voice.
“It can’t hurt. It might make her less restless.”
Leota could hear the sound of wheels rattling softly.
“Corban found you, Grandma. He called the paramedics. You’re in the hospital. You’ve had a slight stroke. Your right side is affected; that’s why you can’t move very much. And it affected your speech, I guess. Do you understand, Grandma?” She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “They’ve given you medication that will help. And you’re on an IV drip. You were dehydrated, so they want to get your fluids up to normal again.”
Leota listened, taking it all in. Though her body wasn’t working, her mind grasped the situation. She didn’t know whether to thank God she was alive or ask Him why. Why hadn’t He let her go? What use was she now?
Lord, is this why You put it in my head to get everything sorted out when I did? This is a dirty trick. I am not pleased. Not—one—bit.
She must have dozed off, because when she opened her eyes again, Annie was gone. Time passed, though how much she didn’t know for sure. People came and went. Once she opened her eyes to see Eleanor standing above her, pale and drawn. She looked every year of her age, which made Leota sad.
“Eleanor . . .” It didn’t come out right, and her daughter looked even more distressed. “Eleanor . . .”
Mouth trembling, Eleanor looked away. “What do we do now, Mother? What do we do?”
Until that moment, Leota hadn’t thought much about what lay ahead for her. She closed her eyes, afraid of what she might see in Eleanor’s when she looked at her again. The words convalescent hospital loomed in her mind, bringing with them all the dire possibilities. Fear swept through her like wildfire. This is not the way I want it to end, Lord. Don’t let them toss me in a care facility and forget I ever lived. What will happen to me now? Oh, God, I’m so afraid. No one could understand her, not even Annie, who loved her so. Did they all think she’d lost her mind?
She could hear people talking around her, over her, about her. The doctor and nurses discussed her condition together. The only one who thought to talk to her about it was Annie. And it wasn’t good news.
The daily routine frustrated Leota. She was examined, turned, washed, exercised, fed, turned again and again and again. Once she cursed, mortified when that one word came out clear as a bell. She looked into the nurse’s eyes in apology, wondering what the young woman thought of an old lady swearing.
The nurse smiled. “I know it’s frustrating, Mrs. Reinhardt. It’s slow going, but you’re improving. Swearing is a good sign in this case.”
Grand. In a week, I’ll be cursing like a sailor.
“The doctor is pleased with your progress.”
That makes one of us.
The nurse gently rolled Leota onto her side while she remade the bed beneath her. Finishing one side, she rolled Leota onto her other side to complete the task. Clean sheets every day, just like Jackie O. Though Leota doubted Jackie had soiled hers. The nurse changed the top sheet and replaced the blankets, snugging them down and tucking them beneath the mattress.
“There you go, Mrs. Reinhardt. Clean and neat as a whistle.” Leota heard a clang as the nurse brought up the bars on one side of the bed, and then on the other.
Lord, is this what life comes down to at the end? I’ve been washed, diapered, and tucked into my crib like a baby. I’m even toothless again, my dentures in that glass on the side table. It’s humiliating to be so helpless. And so useless.
The nurse pushed the curtain back so Leota could be seen from the hallway by any passerby. So much for privacy. Leota tried not to let it bother her. She supposed it was easier for the nurses to check on her that way, see if she was still breathing.
There was no use wasting time. Determined to get better, Leota tried to practice speaking. She worked at it until the woman in the bed next to hers buzzed the nurse. “Can you give that old lady something to make her sleep? She hasn’t shut up all afternoon. She gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
The nurse spoke softly, soothing the other patient, who had had a gallbladder surgery. The poor woman was in pain and asking for more medication. “I’m sorry,” the nurse told her, “I can’t give you anything for another hour.” The poor dear began to cry, and the nurse drew the curtain between the two beds. Leota felt as though a door had been slammed in her face.
Someone turned on the television. Probably hoping to distract the other patient and get her mind off her pain and troubles for a little while. Leota thought of Bernard, sitting in his chair, listening to radio programs, ball games, news, and later watching television. Milton Berle. I Love Lucy. Dinah Shore. “See the U.S.A., in your Chevrolet . . .”
After Bernard died, she turned off the television and left it unplugged for two years.
She thought of George on Thanksgiving Day. “I’m just going to check the score.” And Jeanne, eyes filled with hurt and frustration, saying, “Where’s a blackout when you need one?”
Oh, Lord. Tears ran down into Leota’s ears and hair.
Oh, Jesus, does nothing ever change in this world? Is it always like this? The sins of the father visited upon the sons? Where are the blessings You promised? She could feel the despair settling into her bones, bearing down on her spirit, crushing her.
What use am I to anyone now, Lord?
God, what purpose have You in this suffering?
“Suzie, I know I’ll be letting you down, but I have to do this. I’ve thought about nothing else over the last few days, and I can’t bear the thought of my grandmother going into one of those convalescent hospitals. And that’s what the doctor is saying will have to happen. I want to take her home.”
“You don’t have to explain, Annie.” Susan’s eyes were compassionate as she listened, her hands clasped between her knees. “Don’t worry about the rent. I can make it okay. There’s a girl at the restaurant who’s been looking for another place to live. She was just talking to me about it yesterday. Her roommates are partying all the time and she’s not into drugs. She wants out. She’d move in tomorrow if she could.”
Annie sat down, relieved. “Oh, good. Then you’re not upset with me?”
“Sad, yes. Disappointed, sure. You’re my best friend, and I’ll miss you. But upset? No.” She leaned back on the couch and crossed her legs, lotus fashion. “Have you thought this over really well, Annie? This isn’t a small task you’re thinking about taking on.”
“I know. I’ll have to take things as they come. I don’t mind admitting I’m scared. I’m not sure I even know how to begin.”
“My mother could help, you know. She’s done a lot of practical nursing in homes.”
Annie had forgotten all about Susan’s mother going back to school when her youngest started junior high. Maryann Carter had gotten her degree in nursing two years before Susan had graduated from high school. She’d worked as a licensed practical nurse for years. Now she was a registered nurse. “I don’t think Grandma has the money to pay a private nurse, Suzie. And I know I don’t.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t mean that. Mom could tell you how to make sure the house is safe. She would give you some fast training and resources. She knows a lot about taking care of the elderly. She should. Remember, she’s been taking care of Granny Addie for the past few years. Granny hasn’t had a stroke, but she’s had her share of health problems. Diabetes. Hypertension. Arthritis. She can’t do a lot on her own anymore. She’s lucky to be in a big family.”
“And a loving one.”
Annie served Susan’s mother coffee in Leota’s kitchen. Maryann Carter had agreed to meet her at Grandma’s house as soon as Annie explained the situation.
“This is such a pretty kitchen,” Maryann said, looking around. “Sunny yellow-and-white trim, and those lovely flowers.”
“Grandma said I could do whatever I liked in the house. I had a lot of fun doing this.”
“I wish you’d make my kitchen look like this.” She laughed. “I might want to spend more time in it.” She lifted the pretty porcelain teacup and took a sip of coffee. She grew pensive, gazing out at the garden for a long moment before she looked at Annie again. “Before we begin, set my mind at ease. Have you considered how this will change your life, Annie?”
Annie didn’t answer right away. She knew Susan’s mother wasn’t looking for a quick, altruistic answer. She had thought about the changes she would have to make, the things she would have to give up . . . but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what would happen to her grandmother if she didn’t step in. “Yes, I have.”
“You’ll have to put your own goals on hold for an indefinite period of time. It could be a long time.”
“I already have. I quit school yesterday.” Her instructor had heard her out and said he was sorry to see her leave, but he understood. He also gave her some good news. Her painting had sold, and a check would be coming in the mail. She had almost wept when he told her. She had wondered how she could possibly move in with her grandmother without a job to carry her expenses. The last thing she wanted to do was be a financial burden. She knew her grandmother was living on Social Security and that it was barely enough to take care of her expenses without adding Annie’s to them. Though the painting hadn’t sold for a great deal of money, it was enough to pay her share for some time to come.
Susan’s mother nodded. “I know you’re committed to this. And I can tell you love your grandmother very much. But . . . do you know what you’re getting into as far as your grandmother’s physical care?”
“I think I do.”
“Well, let’s see if you do.” Maryann pushed the cup and saucer aside and folded her hands on the table. “You’ll need to exercise every joint and every muscle of your grandmother’s body so that her limbs and muscles don’t waste away or draw up and thicken. You’ll need to have a routine so that you can do these range-of-motion exercises four times a day. Ulcers can form over bony areas where constant pressure breaks down tissue and blood flow slows. That means you’ll need to turn your grandmother every two hours, day and night. She’ll need good nutrition, which means you must plan menus and cook three meals a day, every day. Besides that, there’s the very personal side of care. Hygiene is extremely important. Bathing, brushing her teeth, combing her hair, taking care of her fingernails and toenails, washing her after she urinates or has a bowel movement . . .”
Annie blushed.
Susan’s mother smiled. “If you’re going to take this task on, Annie, the first thing you’re going to have to do is put aside your feelings of embarrassment about bodily functions. There’s no room for modesty. You’ll need to concentrate on making your grandmother feel less self-conscious and more comfortable about all these things. If you’re embarrassed, she’ll be embarrassed.”
Annie nodded.
“Your grandmother will need a social life, but not so much of one that she’s overstimulated. You’re going to need to plan for time off.”
“I can handle this. I know I can.”
“No, you can’t. You have to be realistic, Annie. I know you’re young and strong, but you cannot do this all on your own. We’re talking about twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, thirty days a month for however long your grandmother lives. No human being can do that alone. You need a care plan. You need help.”
“I’ve prayed about all this, Mrs. Carter.”
“I think you’re old enough now to call me Maryann, honey. And I know you’ve prayed about all this. So have I. So has Susan.” She looked at her. “So has Sam.”
Sam. Oh, dear.
“I don’t have to tell you how my son feels about you, do I?” Maryann’s eyes glistened. “Tom and I have always looked upon you as a daughter. We even prayed Sam would notice you someday, and now that he has . . .” She gave a slight shrug. “Well, Sam, like the rest of us, is going to have to learn to wait upon the Lord.” She searched Annie’s eyes.
Annie looked back at her. “I love Sam, but . . .”
“He’s like a brother.”
“Not exactly.” Annie looked down at her coffee cup. A brother wouldn’t make her pulse race the way Sam did. “I don’t know how to explain it.” Or if she should.
“Sam will be coming around, and he’ll be trying to change your mind about all this.”
“He can try, but it won’t change anything. I’ve prayed about it. I’ve prayed long and hard.”
Maryann nodded. “Prayer is a good start. Now we have to take action.” She stood. “Let’s go have a look at your grandmother’s bedroom. We’ll start there.” She looked around as she went. “Good,” she said, standing in the corridor. “There’s room enough for a wheelchair to get through these doorways.” Standing in the bedroom, she looked around. “Do you think your grandmother would mind if you repainted this room?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Use warm, bright, contrasting colors. What you did in the kitchen would be wonderful. You’ll need to remove some of the furnishings. It’s too crowded. And those pretty porcelain figurines will have to be moved. Too easy to knock over and break. Maybe you can pull these heavy curtains back during the day.” She waved her hand as dust billowed out. “And have them cleaned.”
Maryann looked at the ceiling. “We can have a pole put in beside the bed. Tom knows how to do that. Medicare will pay for it. The pole will be something your grandmother can hold on to when she’s getting up. With help, of course.”
And so it went. Annie spent the rest of the afternoon following Maryann around the house and taking copious notes on what needed to be changed, added, or taken away in the bedroom, bathroom, living room, dining room, and kitchen. By the time they finished, Annie felt overwhelmed by details. “I had no idea . . .”
“You can always change your mind, Annie.”
“Oh, no, I don’t want to do that. I just see what needs to be done now.” She laughed. “I’m going to have to call in the cavalry.” Susan. Arba. Corban. And Sam, too, if he’d be willing to pitch in time and labor. She felt feverish with excitement. One day at a time, one task at a time.
“Do you think your mother would help you?”
Annie shook her head.
Maryann took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, Annie.”
Her eyes burned hot with tears. “I can’t think about my mother right now or what she wants. Grandma Leota takes precedence. I can’t stand the thought of seeing Grandma put away somewhere.”
“There are some very good care facilities in the area.”
“Maybe so, but it wouldn’t be the same as Grandma being in her own home with someone who loves her taking care of her. I know you understand. You have Granny Addie.”
Maryann nodded. “Even when you love someone, it’s not always easy. Granny Addie can be a very trying old soul at times. Your mother . . . well, maybe . . .”
“My mother doesn’t care about Grandma Leota. They’ve been estranged for years. Mother thinks I’ve taken sides, but I haven’t. I just want more time with Grandma Leota. I want all the time I can get, and I don’t think there’s much time left.”
Maryann’s eyes filled as well. She cupped Annie’s cheek. “Tom and I love you very much, Annie. We’ll do whatever we can to help. All you have to do is ask.”
Annie wished her mother felt the same way.