by Leigh Kramer
“Olivia, Reagan’s here with the contract. Do you have time to see him?”
I gaped at her.
“Sure, send him back,” I replied, throwing my wallet back in my purse. I hadn't a clue how I looked. The way sleep had eluded me last night, I was probably better off not knowing. I hastily combed my hair with my fingers, only to get them entangled in the waves. Oh well.
I looked expectantly toward the door while cultivating a neutral expression. Whatever he had to say, I would listen and then we could both move on.
Reagan filled the doorframe, his smile overpowering the weariness in his eyes. My stomach flip-flopped in response, as butterflies ran amok. I soothed the attraction into submission. There was no point in hoping he felt the same way. The beer likely influenced his baseball game flirtations, as his week of silence attested. This was just business.
“Hi, Liv. Thanks for seeing me. I'm sorry I didn't think to call ahead.”
“Oh, it's fine. I wasn't getting much accomplished at the moment anyway.” I indicated he should sit down in one of the chairs across from my desk.
He folded himself into the chair, then presented me with some papers.
“I meant to have this back to you on Monday but I had to fly back to Pittsburgh unexpectedly over the weekend. I just got back late last night.”
That would explain the circles under his eyes and the slightly rumpled shirt he wore. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days and the scruff looked good on him. I set the papers down without looking at them.
“Is everything all right? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to,” I hastily added. I didn't want to overstep.
“No, that's fine. I don't mind telling you. I wouldn't have brought it up otherwise.” He smiled in reassurance. “It's kind of a long story though. I have to start from the beginning for the past few days to make sense. Any chance you can sneak away from this place for a little while?”
The phone rang, preventing me from immediately accepting his offer. My hand hesitated over the receiver. I didn't want an interruption, but responsibility won. I looked at the caller ID and saw Gram's phone number flashing.
“Hold that thought. It's my grandmother. I need to take this.”
“Hey, Gram. Is everything OK?” I asked her with concern, while motioning for Reagan to stay put.
“Everything is not all right,” she snapped. A murmur of voices sounded in the background.
“What's wrong? Who's over there?” I tried to remember whether any of the hospice people were visiting that day. A knot of worry bloomed.
“It's Daniel and Mimi. They apparently believe I'm incapable of living in my house. And I won't have it.” Her voice rose as she directed these last words to them. “Olivia Jane, I know we agreed to wait until Saturday to discuss certain matters but your uncle and aunt appear to believe now is the time and they should be involved in the discussion.”
I stifled a sigh. Aunt Mimi must have shared what Justin said about Gram's future caregiving needs. Why she had to open her mouth about it was beyond me. Uncle Dan had an unfortunate habit of latching on to ideas and cramming them down everyone's throat. I could only imagine what he'd come up with this time.
“All right, all right, Gram. Can you guys wait until I get there?” I glanced at the clock. Almost two o’clock. At least traffic wouldn't be much of a concern.
“That will be fine, dear. We'll see you soon.”
I hung up the phone with regret and looked into Reagan's eyes.
“Everything okay with your grandmother?”
He wore concern well. Damn Dan and Mimi for making me miss out on whatever excursion he'd had in mind before the phone interrupted.
“She's upset with my aunt and uncle. I hate to do this but I need to drive out to her house. I don't know what crazy idea Uncle Dan has come up with but I hope he doesn't make me want to strangle him in the process.” A thought struck me. “Crap. I'm actually going to have to be the calm one during this discussion. That never happens.”
For once I wished I wasn't a slave to our family dynamics. I wanted to rise above the role delegated to me long ago. If they would stop making me so angry, it wouldn't be so hard to transcend the drama.
“As if you haven't heard enough about my family, Reagan. I really do want to hear about your week and let you monopolize the conversation for once,” I teased. Bantering brought us to safe ground.
“My week can wait. Go take care of your grandmother. I'll call you later?”
“Oh. Yes, that would be great,” I said, already distracted by gathering my things.
“We can talk about the contract.”
I deflated a bit. Of course, he'd call about business. The very reason he'd come to the gallery in the first place. I rallied myself.
“Perfect. Thanks for understanding about this.” I stood up, ready to leave.
“No problem. I've been there.”
Again, he alluded to some difficulty in his past. It made me more curious about what he wanted to tell me. I hoped he would offer to share his story another time.
* * *
Gram's house was silent as I stepped into the foyer. Tension rippled as I headed to the living room, the most likely meeting place.
Uncle Dan and Aunt Mimi perched on a couch across from Gram's easy chair. They looked in any direction but at each other. Not a good sign.
“Hi everyone,” I sang. If I stayed positive and cheerful, maybe I could defuse whatever had happened earlier.
I dragged a chair next to Gram and patted her hand. Gram perked up as if the cavalry had arrived and passed a folder over to me without a word. Heritage Manor, the logo proclaimed among bright pictures of seniors socializing and flowered lawns. I'd never heard of it.
“What’s this?” I didn't know who to look at, finally aiming my gaze at Dan.
Aunt Mimi spoke up first. “Heritage Manor is a new retirement community.” She made this sound like an amazing opportunity, a smile pasted on. “It's part of Resurrection Hospital but it's not on the hospital grounds. It's actually a few miles away.”
As if that was a selling point. I couldn't make the connection.
“Why am I looking at this?”
“Mimi told me the hospice nurse said your grandmother shouldn't live by herself. This place is state of the art. She'd have companionship, activities, and the best nursing care anyone could ask for. Why, if I was old enough, I'd consider moving there myself,” Uncle Dan said with a chuckle.
Mimi's laughter tinkled through the room. I risked looking at Gram. She did not appear similarly amused.
I took a deep breath and channeled my inner zen.
“Uncle Dan, I'm afraid Aunt Mimi was wrong. The nurse said at some point we'd have to consider caregiving options. At some point,” I emphasized. “But he didn't have any concerns about Gram living here by herself. If she couldn't live by herself, do you believe we'd have left that conversation for the weekend?”
Uncle Dan lifted an eyebrow as if that was exactly what he expected of his wayward niece.
“The answer is no, Uncle Dan. I'm not going to put Gram in an unsafe situation,” I grit out.
“Sure, sure, Olivia. If that's what you say. At some point though, we're going to need to find a place for Mom to go. Why not now?”
Dan seemed pleased by his logic. I, on the other hand, didn't see why Gram ever needed to leave her home. Gram, red-faced, sat stewing and silent. A silent Gram equaled unparalleled anger. Dan should have been quaking. I kept one eye on Gram as I talked.
“I'm not sure how involved Gram wants anyone else to be in this decision. That's something we planned to figure out on Saturday.” I paused in case she wanted to interject but she indicated for me to continue. “Aunt Mimi, you left before you could hear what the social worker said about Gram's caregiving options. I don't remember everything she said but I know that a retirement community was not on the list.”
“But it's not just a retirement community,” Mimi excitedly responde
d. Bless her heart for the way she could ignore the chilly reception. “They have an assisted living facility and a nursing home as well. You start out in a private home and then you can move through the other levels as needed. It's brilliant really, having all those options in the same place.”
“And what, pray tell, will that cost me?” Gram finally spoke. Dan and Mimi flinched at the sound of her controlled voice.
Uncle Dan gestured for me to give him the folder. He shuffled through a few papers before pulling one out.
“Hear me out on this. The entry fee to reserve an apartment starts at two-fifty but it's ninety percent refundable if you decide to move out.”
“Two-fifty? That doesn't seem too bad,” I said, trying to play nice.
“That's two-fifty like two hundred and fifty thousand,” he informed me. “Then you have a monthly fee, which is only two thousand dollars. For all the amenities there, it's quite a good deal.”
I stared at him in shock. Frasiers have a different view of money, to be sure, but this was excessive by anyone's standards.
A crack of thunder sounded, as April lived up to its reputation. Rain hadn't been in the forecast today but nothing else was going according to plan. It amplified the emotions striking the surface in this room.
Dan and Mimi trained their eyes on Gram and waited for her opinion.
“Y'all are not being serious,” she finally said. “You want me to leave my house of more than sixty years, move into some place for old people, and pay them that kind of money? I'm not cheap but I can smell a bad deal when I see one.”
“Mom, I know—we all know—how much you love this house but you're missing the big picture here,” Dan responded. I stifled an astonished laugh at Dan’s entitlement. This was about to get good. If only I had popcorn to enjoy the show. “You're going to need help and this place will provide it. You're always talking about making new friends and trying new things. This would be perfect for that. Don't think about how much you're paying but about the quality care you'll receive as a result.”
“Olivia Jane, correct me if I'm wrong, but I do believe hiring a caregiver was an option. That would allow me to stay in my home. These walls are like friends to me. So many memories here and you'd have me leave them behind like trash. This place, this Heritage whatever it's called, would kill me. Is that your intention, Daniel John? To put your dying mother in an early grave?”
“Mom, you know that's not true.” Dan began to backpedal. “We thought—”
“There was no thought here. Only meddling. I raised you better than that.” She cut a sidelong glance at Mimi. Perhaps the rumor that Gram hadn't approved of Mimi as a suitable spouse for her youngest son was true after all.
“I wanted everyone to feel free to stop by when the nurse or social worker visits but if I find anyone twisting the team’s advice for their own gain or going behind my back, I will kick them out the door myself. This is still my life and I will live it on my terms.” Mimi squirmed under Gram's withering glare.
Gram changed tacks, sweetening her tone. “I do appreciate the information. Olivia Jane and I will discuss it thoroughly. If and when your opinion is needed, I'll ask for it.”
Dan nodded, thoroughly chastened.
“I'm sorry, Mom. I only want the best for you.”
“I know, dear. All is forgiven.” She stifled a yawn. “It seems I'm due for my afternoon nap. Olivia Jane, why don't you see your uncle and aunt to the door?”
Gram lay with her head back and eyes closed when I re-entered the room.
“Are they gone?” she murmured. When I assented, she opened her eyes and straightened up. “Good. I'm glad they bought my act.”
“Your act? You mean you actually want to go to that place?”
“Of course not. I meant the 'I'm sick and need to rest' act. I may have to use that one to my advantage,” she mused. She turned to me. “I'm sorry I called you out of work for that. I was so mad I couldn't think straight. Then I worried that you knew something about my current abilities that I didn’t.”
I knelt next to her chair and took her hands in mine, squeezing them gently.
“Gram, I'm glad you called me. It's good for me to be a part of these discussions. You and I need to be on the same page. If you want to look into a retirement community, we can definitely do it. I'm not surprised, though, that you want to stay at the house.”
“I may not know everything, but this is my home. This is where I want to spend my last days. I can't imagine being anywhere else,” Gram sputtered. “And that entry fee! I declare, I don't know why Daniel thought I'd ever agree. I'd have to put this house on the market and then completely downsize. I'd rather y'all go through my belongings when I'm gone, instead of me having to pack and pare down for some apartment.”
“You don't have to go anywhere you don't want to go. Personally, I'm glad you want to stay. This house is you, Gram. If another place was better, I'd be sad to see this house go but I'd do it for you.”
We sat in companionable silence and looked around the room. Our family rarely gathered in the living room but I could recall sitting on Pop's knee, one of my earliest memories. I'd also informed Gram about my change in college majors here. Her kindness then made all the difference, especially since she knew only half the story.
“What do you think about when you look around this room?” I asked her.
She pointed at the wood carvings mounted on the wall. “I see those and I remember the safari in Kenya your grandfather took me on for our twentieth anniversary. He hated traveling, such a homebody, but he tried to feed my zest for adventure. Of course, I didn't let on that a safari didn't appeal to me. Pictures of lions and tigers would have sufficed. But then we saw the wildlife up close and our hearts hammered as we took in these wild and wonderful animals. I never felt so alive. Edgar knew me better than I knew myself. He put my needs first and liked to keep me guessing. Every piece in this room reminds me of how he loved me.”
These were the moments that I missed Pop. He formed in my mind, thanks to bits and pieces of others' memories, but a composite did not a grandfather make. What might he have said about his wife dying? Would the Frasier family look the same if he hadn’t died when he had?
“Tell me how you and Pop met.”
“That old story?” Her lips curled up and I could tell she was pleased.
“It's been a while. The details are fuzzy,” I hedged, well aware it did not take much to convince Gram to tell a story. Gram and Pop had met after he returned from serving in the Army during World War II.
“Those were different times after the war. I was twenty, practically a spinster in those days. Though the fact that most of our men had served overseas meant I wasn't the only single gal left. My mother forever pushed me onto the boys attending our church or would invite strangers over for dinner.”
“No one managed to catch my eye. My friends and I'd go to the dance halls on the weekend. I wish those were still around for you kids. My, the fun we'd have! One night, I saw Edgar across the room. I couldn’t stop staring at him. He had a striking air about him, with his dark hair and mustache. Such a dresser too. He was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. Then we made eye contact and I thought my heart would stop. Before I knew it, he came over and asked me to dance. Just like that. He took me in his arms and I was a goner. There’d never be another man for me.”
“He was in Charlotte for business, I learned. We danced and talked the night away. He both impressed and intrigued me. What's more, he asked if he could phone me the next time he came to town. When I asked if that meant he had more business to attend to, he said, ‘the bank doesn't have any more business here but I do.’” I mouthed the infamous words along with her.
“I about swooned on the spot! Then he asked if he could kiss me.” Gram sighed with bliss, as if their first kiss had just happened. Her hands fluttered to her pink cheeks. All these years later and Pop still made her blush. “He came back to Charlotte the very next weekend and three weeks lat
er, he asked my father for permission to marry me. We were married two months to the day from when we first met. That's not a timeline I'd advise everyone to follow, mind you, but it worked for us.”
I loved looking through pictures of Gram and Pop in those days. The Southern belle posed with her soldier. Her family had been impressed with his service to the United States, which made her eventual move to Illinois easier to bear.
Gram's voice grew wistful. “I've wanted to watch you fall in love, Olivia Jane. I want you to experience the same love Pop and I knew.”
My throat closed up and tears threatened to spill. I didn't know what to say.
“I know, Gram. I wanted that, too. Maybe I'm not meant to be married.”
“Maybe not,” she replied slow and sure. “I don't know if you've given relationships a real try though.”
“Gram,” I exclaimed, surprised she had raised the topic. “That's not fair and you know it.”
“What I know is that something happened on that trip of yours that soured you on relationships. You haven't given anyone a fair chance since. I haven't said anything before because I want you to reach those conclusions on your own and because I love you the way you are. You don't need a man to complete you and you've accomplished more in your thirty-four years than I ever did. I don't have the luxury of time anymore. We can't make Mr. Right appear out of thin air but I want you to at least open your heart to the idea that he exists.”
She wanted to talk about fairness when she wasn't playing fair herself. I couldn't argue with her assessment. Arguing would mean I'd have to finally share what happened in Paris. Gram didn't need to know about that. No one needed to know.
I opened my mouth to reply but nothing came out. I could mention Reagan, but he'd given me nothing concrete to go on. I cleared my throat.
“Okay, Gram. I'll open up my heart to the idea, but I make no promises.”
Stick to the surface, it was better this way. Even better, change the subject.
“I want to hear more about you and Pop. If I'm going to have hope of a love story, I want to learn about the best one.”
