3
As we pulled into the space in front of the house, I realized how difficult it was going to be without a car for the summer. Gran had never learned how to drive. I remembered her telling me as a child, “Ladies do not drive vehicles. That is for the men to do.” My grandfather had carted her around his entire life and after he passed, she called a service whenever she needed to go out of town. Sometimes we would send a town car to get her, or I would drive up. But, after Nick disappeared, I thought a bit of frivolous shopping would cheer me up, instead I ended up with a massive credit card bill. The only way to pay it off was to sell my car. It wasn’t a good car anyway, but I hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to not to have wheels until now.
We mounted the stone steps leading up to the old Victorian. I gazed up at the pale green home with much darker green shutters. The rain had stopped and it was getting humid already. I avoided a particularly large puddle and said to Mom, “Some of these stones need to be replaced. How can anybody walk up here?” I caught my heel in some leftover mud and had to lean over to pull myself out.
“Well, put that on your list for this summer Paige. I’m sure she could use the help doing it.”
Also known as, Paige hire someone. Handy is definitely not my middle name.
We approached the large wooden door to enter Gran’s home. It was one of the few original fixtures remaining on the house. It had a large iron handle with a push down lever for entrance. I ran my finger over the small pentagram located just above the handle before knocking and entering. There were pentagrams all over the house, inside and out. Gran believed they kept, “Evil spirits at bay,” claiming there were a lot of ghosts in the old home. I thought she had just fallen victim to the tourist trap her small, beloved town had become. You couldn’t walk ten feet without stumbling into a Wicca shop. Most were frauds and only out for the summer, but some stayed year round and believed in their craft. I thought they were all nuts.
I walked in first, Mom trailing behind me. I put my bags by the door before crossing underneath the large chandelier in the foyer, yelling for Gran. “We’re here Gran! Where are you?” I looked into the burgundy living room. It had a lush carpet and matching floral furniture. Some would call my Gran’s taste tacky, she would call it lavish.
I paused at the grand staircase and yelled again. She was usually up on the second floor or in the kitchen. I heard banging coming from the back of the house so I made my way to the kitchen. Once in the doorway, I could smell cookies baking, a welcome relief to my nose after the musty old house smells in the foyer.
Gran had her back to me, a robin’s egg blue apron tied loosely around her waist. She was muttering to herself about burnt cookies, but when she turned around to greet me, I saw a tray filled with perfectly golden, round confections.
“Darling! How good to see you! Your mother didn’t tell me you were coming with her!” She embraced me in a one handed hug, still maintaining her grip on the tray of cookies with the tips of her fingers. She always had amazing balance like that, she would always catch something right before it hit the floor, where most people would’ve let it drop and smash. Her skills were almost feline like in her precision of movement and speed. It didn’t matter how old she was, nothing ever fell in this house.
“Gwen,” she called, “where is that gorgeous daughter of mine?”
“Here Mom, here I am,” my mom said as she entered the kitchen. “I can see you’ve made cookies, mmm... chocolate chip, my favorite.” My mom plucked one off the plate and took a huge bite. “Delicious as always.” She kissed Gran on the cheek before sitting down at the kitchen table. It was a vintage set with a striped patterned that my mom had bought Gran.
Mom had a plan, butter Gran up with chit chat before delving into the more serious topic of her falling. “How have you been?”
Gran flashed a smile, her wrinkled face hardly showed her true age. She had my mom a little later in life and must have been at least eighty-five now but she didn’t look a day over sixty. “Fabulous. There’s a new diner in town, so I haven’t had to cook as much. Their pie is almost as good as mine, but don’t tell ‘em that.” She winked at me and offered me a cookie as well.
“Gran, no one’s pie compares to yours.”
Mom took a deep breath and gave me a look out of the corner of her eye. I knew it was time for her attempt to conquer Gran. “How is your hip, Mom?”
She waved her hand in my mother’s direction. “It’s fine, you worry too much.”
“But Mom, you didn’t call us, you promised after your knee you would call. What happened to our agreement?”
Gran set down the cookies on the counter and turned her back to us, “I never agreed to you babysitting me like a child,” she responded quietly.
“Gran,” I said, “no one thinks of you that way. We just worry is all.”
My grandmother turned to my mom and let anger surge through her veins. “Gwen, will you listen to her? You’ve made her believe I am some broken, old woman! I am no such thing and I won’t be treated like that. I fell on the back patio, that’s all.” She stomped out of the room towards the formal dining room.
I sat down next to my mom. “Well, that went well.”
“About as well as I expected, I suppose.” My mom pinched the bridge of her nose. “What are we going to do with her? She can’t be here alone.”
“Mom, I already have a solution to that. Please, just let her calm down a bit and then we’ll talk to her about it.”
“Fine,” she agreed, “but don’t get your hopes up.”
“Don’t worry Mom, I won’t.”
We spent the next ten or fifteen minutes cleaning up Gran’s kitchen. We were just putting the cooling rack away when Gran walked back in.
“My my, you do not have to do that. But I can sure get used to a little bit of help,” she added looking directly at me.
I wondered at the time if she knew what was coming, she always seemed to have a sixth sense about these things. Picking up the phone before it would ring or knowing who was on the other end without caller ID. Answering the door just two seconds before the doorbell would ring, was just kind of her thing. She made it really hard not to tell the truth when you broke a vase playing baseball in the house, after she reminded you three times not to.
My mom decided to use a different tactic, something that might convince Gran that I really should stay here. “We have something to discuss Mom. Paige has decided to fly the coop.”
My grandmother sat down tenderly. Her age showed in her slow movements. “And where would that be to? Somewhere fabulous I hope? Someone finally invest in your craft?” Her blue eyes caught mine, she had always believed in my art and I truly appreciated that about her.
I shook my head, “Sorry Gran, but not yet. Got anywhere around here I could throw some of my stuff?”
She looked taken aback. “You’re letting her move in here? Gwen, are you sure about this?” Concern etched into the wrinkles around her eyes.
“I have to say this wasn’t the reaction I was going for Gran, I thought you would be excited.” I was disappointed in her lack of enthusiasm.
“Of course I am dear,” she quickly changed her attitude and took my hands in hers. “I just want to be sure that this is what your mother wants.” She gave Mom another look of death.
Something weird was going on here. I had always stayed here as a kid, but I guess the last time was maybe when I was like thirteen. Maybe she didn’t feel like she could handle an adult grandchild, especially a depressed one. Or perhaps she was catching on that I was here to watch her, not the other way around.
“You won’t even know I’m here, promise.” I squeezed her hands for emphasis. It’s this or a home, I tried to tell her with my look. She must have understood it because she said, “Well, don’t just sit here with us old people, go upstairs and pick a room!”
I laughed and practically skipped back to the stairs. I took them two at a time, just like I always had since my legs could reach. I was finally getting the escape I needed. Moving out of my parents’ house was quite possibly the best news I’d heard in about nine months.
As I rounded the corner, I noticed something had changed on the second story. All of the doors to the eight-bedroom home were closed, and what furniture was in the hallway was covered with thick white sheets, a layer of dust covering those. I tried opening a few doors before I realized they must all be locked. Where was Gran sleeping then? She had always stayed in the bedroom at the end of the hall, the one with a small balcony. Judging by the dust on the rug, no one had walked up here in months. It appeared she was in more physical trouble than she was letting on, perhaps she couldn’t even get up the stairs anymore. But then why stay in this huge house? She could easily sell this place and get a nice little rancher closer to us. But as I turned to walk back to the stairs, I saw the exact reason she was staying here.
A large family portrait of my grandfather, Gran and my mom was hanging above the staircase. She has so many great memories in this house, I thought to myself, there’s no way she could leave. So it would become my job to make it as easy as possible for her to stay here, with me. It would be kind of like a girls’ getaway. I was getting away from my parents and in a way, so was she.
The carpeted stairs muffled my steps as I walked back down to ask where the keys were for the bedrooms, knowing that my mom must not have heard me coming. I could hear the hushed whispers all the way from the stairs, Gran’s hearing wasn’t what it used to be. Unfortunately mine wasn’t very good either. But I knew the conversation that was happening behind the closed doors. It was the same one I had heard over and over again since Nick’s disappearance. Same rules as always, don’t mention him, surround her with happy activities, but don’t be pushy. To me it all felt the same, smothered. I couldn’t wait for my mom to let me go, allow me to try to make it again on my own. At some point I had to accept that he was gone.
Instead of going in the kitchen I decided to avoid them and let my mom give Gran her speech. I knew it would make her feel better even though it made me feel like a child. Sometimes parents just need to feel needed. I took my purse and started walking. I didn’t know where I would end up but I needed to investigate my new town. See if there truly was anything for me here.
The day grew muggy around me and I watched as a taller guy in dark jeans and a short sleeve dark green top walked across the street in front of me. His shoulders were hunched and he continued to walk about ten feet in front of me. I followed him, no idea why, but I had nowhere else to go. We walked in silence for about ten minutes, turning corners and dodging cars while crossing the street. I had to find out where he was going, there was something so unique and mysterious about him. When he turned a corner at a fabric shop I lost sight of him. I turned around to go back to Gran’s, but when I turned I walked right into a guy matching the description of the guy I was just following.
“Ooo sorry!” How embarrassing. When I looked up I unintentionally sucked in a deep breath. His handsome features were overwhelming. I had never seen someone so beautiful in such a raw way. I watched his beautiful gray eyes hidden in the shadows of dark brown hair. He had a little stubble on his cheeks and chin, but he didn’t look grungy. It worked for him.
He looked at me closely taking in my jeans and long tank. “Why were ya following me?”
Oh my God, he had an Irish accent. I was in trouble. It took me an incredibly long time to realize he asked me a question. Shit. “Ummm, I wasn’t really meaning to, it’s just I don’t know the town very well and you seemed to know where you were going.”
He studied me closely and I watched his eyes as they fell upon my necklace, a pentagram Gran had given me as a child. “Nice necklace,” he commented.
“Thanks,” I said, touching it.
“What’s yer name lass?” He had a half smile on his face.
“Paige, and you are?”
“Ultan. Yer new around here? Ya said ya didn’t know where ya were goin’.”
“Yeah well I’m staying with my grandmother. Taking care of her and helping around the house.”
“Ahh I see. Well do ya know how to get back home then?”
“Actually, no,” I said, turning around on the sidewalk.
“Well, good luck with that Paige. I guess I’ll see ya around.”
“Sure, see ya. Hey, wait! How about some directions?”
I heard him laugh as he walked away. “Sometimes just being where ya are is enough lass.”
I felt a flutter in my chest. It wasn’t something I had felt in a long time. Watching as he swaggered away, I found myself mesmerized by his smile and almost cocky attitude.