CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The floor was strewn with clothes-laden plastic bags, so it was blatantly obvious that Grace was preparing to flee. Surprisingly though, that didn’t seem to be what Nanna wanted to discuss. Seemingly the boisterous party had proven to be too much for her aged nerves to handle.
“I don’t feel well, and I don’t trust cab drivers. So I need you to accompany me home,” Nanna said in a tone that brooked no nonsense.
“Well, ummm . . . ” Grace stammered, unsure of how to remove herself from the sticky situation. Was it possible that Henry’s grandmother had somehow failed to hear Michelle announcing to all and sundry that she was a druggie loser? In the short time since she’d met the old woman she hadn’t appeared to be hard of hearing, but she was ancient so it wasn’t entirely inconceivable. Maybe she’d glued a bunch of rhinestones to her hearing aid and it was messing with the reception.
“I don’t want anyone else to help me. I want you,” Nanna stated emphatically. “You haven’t met her yet, but my daughter is the bossiest woman alive, and I don’t need her ordering me around all night. She’s been trying to take control of my life for years. If I admit to not feeling one hundred percent she might even try to move me into one of those awful nursing homes. I just need to go back to my place and get some rest. Then I’ll feel right as rain.”
“But I . . .” Grace felt trapped. She didn’t want to be responsible for Nanna getting put in a home. She’d never recover from the guilt trip if she was responsible for larger than life Nanna getting shut away in a home. They’d probably confiscate her Bedazzler and her silly shirts and make her wear boring hospital gowns day in and day out. That would be criminal.
How could she say no to a woman who had been so solicitous and kind to her? Just because Henry thought she was garbage didn’t mean she had to go and prove him right. She may not have been raised properly, but she still knew the difference between good and bad manners. And she knew Nanna didn’t deserve to be locked up somewhere where she’d shrivel up overnight and become a shadow of her former self.
She didn’t know why the woman had chosen her to help, especially given all of the eminently more qualified individuals she’d left behind at the barbeque, but in that moment she decided that she wasn’t about to let her down. She eyed her bags speculatively, not wanting to leave them behind, but leery of Nanna discovering that she was attempting to run away.
“Oh just bring them with you,” Nanna muttered, sounding far younger than her years and seeming more pushy than ill. Just when Grace was starting to wonder if Nanna was actually sick, the old woman pressed a hand to her heart and sat down weakly on the edge of the bed.
“Are you okay?” Grace asked worriedly, rushing to her side.
“It’s this old ticker of mine,” Nanna murmured feebly. “It just can’t keep up like it used to. Can you please help me out to the cab and escort me home so I can rest?”
“Of course!”
Grace helped Nanna stand up, and was surprised when Nanna looped a couple of the plastic grocery bags over her arm, an action at odds with her weakened state. Grace quickly followed suit and grabbed the rest of her belongings with one arm while she helped support Nanna with her other. The taxi was waiting for them out front.
The driver popped the trunk and she made short work of cramming in her belongings. Then she helped Nanna get situated in the back seat and climbed in after her. She continued to stare wistfully out the window long after Henry’s house had disappeared from sight. All of her beautiful dreams had gone up in smoke. It was like she’d been pulled up onto a magician’s stage to help demonstrate a disappearing act, yet she felt as though he’d changed out magic tricks at the last second and sawed her in half instead.
She missed him already but she told herself it was just hunger, and weariness over having to start from scratch once again. The problem was that it was getting harder and harder to lie to herself. Truth be told, she missed the man so much she felt as though her heart had been ripped from her chest. How she was still able to function at all was a scientific marvel.
***
Nanna tricked Grace into staying the night with a sob story about how she didn’t want to fall down because she might not be able to get up again. Grace felt guilty about being responsible for the woman being alone and having a stroke or something, so she stayed. The following days were filled with “sick” Nanna sending her to do one chore after another while she moaned and writhed about weakly on the couch.
After a few days Grace began to suspect that Nanna was using her as slave labor to clean her house and cook her meals while she sat on her old butt. But every time she tried to talk about leaving, Nanna would suffer from another attack. All the while Henry’s grandmother was ordering her about, she was also taking the time to teach Grace basic life skills. Most of the activities were simple enough in nature, but no one had ever taught her even though they were tasks that every grownup should know how to do.
By the time a full week had passed she knew how to properly clean everything from windows and rugs to antique silver. She went from not knowing how to operate anything but a microwave to mastering Nanna’s secret recipe for apple pie. The best part wasn’t even the pie itself, but the simple cinnamon rolls she taught her to make from the scraps. Somehow the woman had missed out on the “fat is evil” health craze, and her recipes were loaded with the golden goodness of butter and oil in all their yummy forms.
Every morning Grace woke up with a fresh resolve that she needed to leave, but every day Nanna kept her too busy to think of an escape plan. The unexpected side effect of all the industriousness was that she was so occupied with a multitude of tasks that she didn’t feel the urge to use, even though her stash was right there in the house with her. While before she’d not wanted to disappoint Henry by using, she now found that she didn’t want to let herself down. She hated how Michelle had described her, especially because every word had been true. She didn’t want to be a druggie loser in anyone’s eyes, especially her own.
By the time night came around she was so weary that she couldn’t wait to crawl into the soft bed in the guest room that Nanna had shown her that first evening. Sometimes her weak mind would wander and she would speculate about what Henry was up to at any given moment. Was he preparing something amazing in his kitchen? Was he out partying with his friends? Had he found someone else? Did he miss her even a little bit, or had he easily moved on? He may have been better off without her, but as for her, well his absence was brutal.
Thoughts of Henry always resulted in her crying, so as a general rule she tried to shove them away. But her loss was like an itchy scab, and she couldn’t stop herself from picking at the wound. When she was at her weakest she’d think about using for a brief moment. She’d even found a dusty old bottle of aspirin under the sink to augment her small stash. But every time she somehow managed to talk herself out of the destructive behavior again. She wasn’t that person anymore. She was stronger than she’d ever believed possible.
Staying with Nanna had helped her learn that she was capable of so many things she’d never dreamed were possible. Grace tried to imagine purchasing a house of her own someday, and lately she could almost see it. She’d continued to study for the GED, more out of habit than for any other reason. Nanna’s computer was ancient, and waiting for the old dial-up Internet to load was exhausting, but she spent time each day on it. It was harder without Henry there to help explain the more challenging lessons, but she had to learn to function without him because he was gone now and that’s just the way it was.
She knew that if she was ever going to be able to support herself she had to get an education. The days trucked along and she worked hard, but a future without Henry by her side still seemed unbearable, and there had been more than one day where she’d been tempted to simply throw in the towel and quit.