I blew out a long sigh. Maybe Mother had arranged all this.
“What?”
I opened my eyes at Eddie’s voice to see him peering at me, his brow still knitted. I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes or spoken aloud. “Oh, nothing,” I said, feeling sheepish. “I was just remembering something Mother told me about seeing things through.”
Robert—or was it Richard? I knew his name started with anR—leaned in. “Is she on the ceiling here?”
“I—I don’t think so.” I started to explain that she could read my thoughts, then realized how cuckoo that sounded. They already thought I was crazy enough.
“So... where do you and Hope plan to begin?” Eddie asked.
“Oh, my—I don’t think it matters. Usually if you just dive in, you’ll end up where you need to be sooner or later. Thinking too much can paralyze you.”
“Interesting philosophy,” the redhead said. “You’ll have plenty of options.”
I followed his gaze into the dining room. For the first time, I realized it was stacked with trunks and boxes from the attic. He and Eddie must have moved them down while I was in the hospital.
I patted Eddie’s hand, then turned it loose. “You’d better get going or you’ll miss your train.”
“Plane,” Eddie said softly.
“Yes, of course.” How could I have forgotten how the world had speeded up?
After a flurry of good-bye hugs and kisses, the screen door banged shut, and a car engine growled to life in the driveway.
As the sound receded into the distance, Hope handed me a tissue and sat down in the chair beside me. “You okay?”
I hadn’t even realized a tear was snaking down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away. “Just fine, dear. Looking forward to spending time with you.”
“Me, too.”
“I have so much I want to tell you. I...” A sound from the kitchen made me jump. “Who’s that?”
“The home health aide.”
Oh bother! I didn’t want a third party hanging around while I spilled the secrets of my soul.
“I don’t need a nursemaid,” I grumbled. “Can you get rid of her?”
“Not entirely,” Hope said. “Eddie absolutely insisted you have help here around the clock.”
“But I want to talk to you privately.”
“Well, then, I can send her on an errand.”
The suggestion brightened my mood.“Why don’t you do that, dear, then put on some tea. You and I are due for a nice long chat.”
6
hope
Iwas a little nervous about being alone with Gran. It was kind of like the time I’d babysat my friend’s toddler—the child had no knowledge of her own limitations, I had no confidence she would heed my warnings, and I worried she was going to fall and hurt herself. What if I didn’t watch her closely enough and something happened? I reached for Gran’s arm to help her stand up, then realized my efforts were only thwarting her own.
“I can do it, child,” Gran muttered, pushing out of her chair. “Stop hovering over me.”
“I promise to quit hovering if you promise to use your walker.”
“Fiddlesticks. That thing’s more likely to trip me than help me.” To my relief, though, she reached for the walker all the same and shuffled through the dining room into the kitchen.
