The Color of Heaven Series [02] The Color of Destiny

by Julianne MacLean

  I dropped my keys on the kitchen island and went to kiss her on the cheek. She leaned back to look up at me.

  “Behold,” she said, sweeping a hand over three smooth beach rocks the size of ostrich eggs that lay on the table. She must have spent the entire afternoon painting them. I admired the colors and images she had created. One stone was blue with swirly textures, like ocean waves. Another was clearly intended to be a butterfly.

  “You’ve been busy,” I replied with fascination. I sat down on the sofa cushion and put my arm around her shoulders. “They’re wonderful.” I examined each one. “What should we do with them?”

  “We should put them in the rose garden at the edge of the yard,” she suggested. “I think that’s a good place, don’t you?”

  “Overlooking the Bay,” I replied. “It’s perfect.”

  Gram beamed.

  “They’re beautiful,” I said. “And this one has glitter.”

  I felt Elizabeth approach us from behind. Though she wore no shoes and made no sound, I knew she was standing over us even before she spoke.

  I turned and smiled up at her. “You must have brought the paints?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “When it comes to art supplies, I am very well stocked.”

  I nodded. “This is wonderful, thank you. Can I paint one?” I asked Gram.

  “Sure!” She pointed at the steel bucket in front of the fireplace. “We collected a boatload.”

  I laughed. “That bucket must have weighed a ton, hauling it up here!”

  “We each carried some,” Elizabeth explained, “and made a few trips throughout the day, so it wasn’t that bad.”

  “I wish I could have joined you,” I said.

  “You always loved walking on the beach,” Gram mentioned. “Remember when you were little?”

  “You took me every day,” I replied, feeling a tremendous wave of love wash over me, for Gladys and my parents, Ryan and Abigail, had given me the best childhood a girl could ask for.

  Raising Gram’s frail, blue-veined hand to my lips, I kissed it and held it against my cheek.

  If only she could be a part of my life forever.

  Why do people have to go?

  The love in her eyes told me she remembered all the joy and laughter from our lives, and she, too, felt blessed and fulfilled.

  “I’m so glad we can be together,” she said. “We are lucky, aren’t we?”

  I was very aware that Elizabeth had watched our exchange with tender but aching envy, before she quietly backed away and returned to the pot of chowder on the stove.

  “The beach rocks are great,” Ryan said to me that evening after Elizabeth went home.

  We had all eaten dinner together, but as soon as I stood to clear the table, Gram said she felt tired and wanted to go to bed. Ryan and I insisted that Elizabeth should not have to stay to help with the cleanup. She had already worked more than her scheduled hours for the day.

  “I love the rocks, too,” I replied as I bent to load the chowder bowls into the dishwasher. “Didn’t I tell you Elizabeth was a good choice? Gram said she was a lovely companion today, and I really think the painting is a wonderful creative outlet. It’ll be good for her to have a way to express herself when she starts to lose her language ability. She’ll find joy in that. I know she will.”

  Ryan put the butter and salad dressings in the fridge. “I agree. And it was nice of Elizabeth to cook us this meal. She didn’t have to. It’s not part of her job description. Or is it?”

  “No. But she said she wants to fit in like a family friend, so that Gram feels comfortable with her – especially later on, when she might forget who she’s actually related to.”

  We were both quiet for a moment. “That makes sense,” he said.

  I closed the dishwasher door and pressed the start button. The motor quietly began to hum.

  “How was she today?” Ryan asked.

  I faced him. “Who? Gram or Elizabeth?”

  “Gram,” he replied with a smirk. “Were there any major incidents? No car keys or lamps discovered in the freezer?”

  I chuckled. “No. It was a good day. Uneventful. Elizabeth said she’d call if there were any problems, but you can just read the report if you want to know everything that went on.”

  “There’s a report?” he said, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Yes, right over there.” I pointed.

  Ryan went to the counter area under the microwave, and flipped open the binder. “Doesn’t she know how to use a laptop?”

  “She prefers loose leaf and longhand. She’s not the techie type, or haven’t you noticed?”

  “She has a cell phone,” he mentioned.

  “But it’s a dinosaur – one of those flip-phones with just a number keypad. She only uses it for talking. With her voice. No texting. No Twitter.”

  “Wow.” He leaned back against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “I gotta say, I admire her fortitude.”

  “She told me she likes to live life in the moment with her head up, not with her eyes down, fixed on a screen.”

  Ryan nodded again. “I like that idea.”

  “Yeah, me, too. We could all use a little less screen time. Want to go into town and get some ice cream?”

  “I’d love to,” he replied, pushing away from the counter, “but we shouldn’t leave Gram alone. How about you go buy a tub and bring it home.”

  He picked up his car keys, twirled them around his forefinger, and tossed them to me.

  “Do you think Elizabeth will cook for us every night?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I replied as I opened the door. “Maybe you should ask her.”

  Chapter Forty-five

  A WEEK LATER, I invited Elizabeth to stay late and watch an old Demi Moore movie on television – About Last Night. Elizabeth was officially off duty in the evenings, so we decided to have a girls’ night in and make popcorn.

  Elizabeth brought the popcorn. It was the organic kind, and she popped it on the stove with an equal mixture of olive and canola oils. It was the best popcorn I’d ever tasted.

  Ryan was on call at the hospital, and Gram had gone to bed early, as she did most nights. I told Justin, the night shift worker, not to come until midnight because we had Gram covered. He was happy to have some extra time off – with pay, of course.

  When the credits started to roll, I had to pass Elizabeth a tissue.

  “I forgot how much I love that movie,” she said. “I was in high school when I first saw it.”

  “It’s a great film,” I agreed. “And who doesn’t love Jim Belushi? He was brilliant in this.”

  She inhaled deeply. “I suppose I should get going, but let me help you clean up first.”

  She picked up the empty popcorn bowl, and I collected our water glasses. Together we moved into the kitchen and piled everything on the counter at the sink.

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do after you graduate?” Elizabeth asked as she squirted dish soap into the popcorn bowl and filled it with sudsy water.

  “I have a few different interests,” I replied, “but this is my last year at Dal, so I’ll have to choose something.”

  “What are your options?” She reached for the water glasses and gently dipped them into the water.

  I pulled a clean dishtowel out of the drawer. “I want to do something in the health professions, so I’m thinking about occupational therapy, physiotherapy, or maybe even medical school.”

  “Like your dad. How are your marks?”

  “Straight A’s,” I replied, “but after what’s been happening with Gram, I’m also considering a nursing degree. Maybe I could specialize in geriatrics and work in a nursing home.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “That all sounds great. I don’t think there’s any wrong decision.”

  “That’s why it’s so hard to choose. Part of me would like to work with elderly patients and just take care of them on a daily basis, you know? But another part of me is fascinated
with the science of what’s happening to Gram. I’ve been reading a lot about Alzheimer’s lately, and I might like to do something on the research side.”

  Elizabeth rinsed a glass under the running water and handed it to me. I dried it with the towel and set it upside down in the cupboard.

  “What about boys?” Elizabeth asked. “Any handsome young men in your life?”

  I sighed. “Not at the moment. I’ve had a few relationships, but nothing has ever stuck. The first one lasted just over a year,” I told her. “That was in high school. His name was Robert and he works at one of the golf courses in Halifax now. We’re still friends.”

  “That’s nice.” She rinsed and handed me the second glass.

  “Then I dated a guy my first year at Dal. That also lasted about a year, but he cheated on me, so that was the end of that.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah, well, what are you going to do?”

  “Dump him,” she said, giving me a playful nudge.

  I chuckled. “Damn straight.”

  While Elizabeth washed the popcorn bowl, I stood quietly, admiring her profile under the bright halogen sink lights. She was an attractive woman with a tiny upturned nose and expressive eyes. She kind of reminded me of Nicole Kidman, except for the cropped black hair. And she was not as tall. Elizabeth was very petite.

  She had such an inherent kindness about her, and a sense of calm and optimism that I respected and appreciated. “You remind me of my mom sometimes,” I said, out of the blue.

  Her lips curled into a barely discernible smile, as if she were touched by the comment. Then she looked at me with those caring eyes. “You must miss her a lot.”

  “I do. She was an amazing woman and a superstar as a mother. I always felt loved, as if I were the most important thing in the world to her.”

  “I’m sure you were.” She handed me the popcorn bowl, and I dried it while she washed the cutlery we had used. “What about your real father?” she asked. “How old were you when––”

  “I never really knew him,” I explained. “He died when I was less than a year old. What about you? Are you close to your parents?”

  She pulled the stopper in the sink to let the water drain. “I was closer to my mom than my dad. He was too...” She paused. “Strict. We certainly had our differences. He just didn’t agree with some of the choices I made in my youth. I ended up rebelling. Then, in my twenties, I didn’t speak to either of my parents for almost five years. Then Mom got sick. Kind of like your mom.”

  “Was it breast cancer?” I asked with concern.

  “Ovarian. She passed away ten years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Elizabeth nodded appreciatively.

  I was hesitant to ask any more questions, because I sensed from the start that Elizabeth didn’t enjoy sharing information about her personal life, especially her youth. Something told me she wasn’t proud of her past. I was curious about her, however. I wanted to know everything – every last intimate detail.

  “What about your dad?” I dared to ask while she wiped the top of the island with the dishcloth. “Are you close to him now?”

  She shrugged. “I wouldn’t say ‘close.’ We do keep in touch. Occasionally. Maybe once a year.”

  I leaned against the counter. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No, it’s just me.” She folded the dishcloth and placed it on the back corner of the sink.

  A quiet knock rapped at the door. I glanced at the clock on the microwave.

  “It’s midnight,” I said. “That must be Justin.”

  Elizabeth grabbed her sweater and picked up her purse while I went to answer the door.

  “Hi, Justin. Come on in,” I said.

  Unlike Elizabeth, he wore a white uniform that made him look every inch the hospital worker.

  “How was the movie?” he asked as he stepped inside.

  I closed the door behind him. “It was great.”

  “Hi, Justin,” Elizabeth said. “I’m just on my way out. Have a good night.”

  She waved at me and was gone before I had a chance to say anything other than, “See you tomorrow.”

  Later, when I slipped between the cool sheets in my bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about our conversation in the kitchen, and what she’d said about the choices she had made in her youth, which caused her to become estranged from her parents for five years.

  What were those choices? I wondered. And what sort of life had she lived before coming to work with us?

  Then I thought about Ryan and the choices he had made in his youth. He had never hidden any of that from me. As soon as I was old enough to understand – and a few of my classmates began experimenting with drugs and alcohol – he told me about his childhood and his difficult adolescence, and spared none of the more tragic details, including what happened to his friends.

  I must have been twelve or thirteen at the time, and I always admired how he’d managed to turn his life around, when it could have been so different from what it is now.

  I was thankful he ended up with us. Thankful for that spider in my ear. Thankful for the corn bin at the grocery store.

  Tonight, I told Elizabeth that she reminded me of my mother, and it was true, in many ways. But the more I thought about the difficult adolescence she had described, the more I realized she had much more in common with Ryan.

  Chapter Forty-six

  THE MONTH OF July passed in a full bloom of pink and red roses, yellow-petaled brown-eyed Susans, and a collage of other flowers that painted our yard in vivid splashes of color. Elizabeth said that when she and Gram sat on the back deck, sipping iced tea on sunny afternoons, she imagined the gardens were the foreground in a Monet painting, and the sailboats in the distance on the choppy blue bay were joyful brush strokes of whimsy.

  I asked if she was interested in using Ryan’s boat, but she said boating was not something she would attempt alone. I suggested she invite some friends down to visit some weekend, but since she had agreed to be on call for us, she said she preferred to be on land and available, just in case.

  As for Gram, she painted hundreds of beach stones that summer. As August drew to a close, just before I returned to school, we decided to hold a yard sale on a Saturday, sell most of them for five dollars each, and donate the entire proceeds to our favorite charity – the IWK Children’s Hospital in Halifax.

  I spread the word in town and stapled posters to telephone poles. I also sent an email to The Chronicle Herald, and a reporter showed up the morning of the sale to do a story on Gram. Ryan barbequed hot dogs that we sold for a buck each. We raised just over two thousand dollars.

  When Labor Day weekend rolled around, I was eager to get back to my studies and my friends at school, but uneasy about leaving Ryan, Gram, and Elizabeth, because if the summer had taught me anything – it was that life was precious, and family, even more so. It was not going to be easy to say good-bye, and I dreaded what changes might take place while I was gone.

  On my last night at home, we decided to barbeque my favorite: filet steaks rubbed with sea salt, potato salad with mustard and diced celery, roasted red peppers, and steamed asparagus with butter.

  Gram handled the potato salad – it was her specialty – while I took care of the other vegetables. Ryan, as always, was master of the barbeque.

  We invited Elizabeth to join us, and she arrived wearing a white sundress I’d never seen on her before, and a pair of turquoise Roman sandals – a noticeable change from the worn-out combat boots she always wore. Her toenails were painted pale pink.

  Aside from the outfit, there was something else different about her, but at first I wasn’t quite sure what it was.

  “I brought you a key lime pie,” she said, raising it up when I greeted her at the door.

  I felt my face light up. “How wonderful! Thank you. Allow me to take it out of your hands. I love key lime pie. Come on in. We’re just finishing up the potato salad, and Ryan�
��s out on the deck scraping the grill and listening to reggae music. I think he needs someone to talk to. Would you like a glass of wine or beer?”

  “Iced tea would be great, if you have it,” she replied.

  “I’ll bring it out to you.”

  She kissed Gram on the cheek, snuck a stick of celery from the cutting board, and pushed the sliding glass door open. Stepping out onto the deck, she said hello to Ryan, and slid the door closed behind her.

  After I delivered Elizabeth’s iced tea to her and gave Ryan a refill as well, Gram and I continued to work on the salad and veggies. Every once in a while, I glanced out the windows. Ryan and Elizabeth were chatting comfortably with each other, and I wished I could be a fly on the cedar shakes out there, and listen to their conversation.

  “They’re such a nice couple,” Gram said.

  I turned my gaze to her. “Yes, they are, aren’t they?” It was the first time either of us had ever suggested anything like that so openly, though I can’t deny I’d thought about it more than once over the summer.

  “How long have they been married?” Gram asked.

  I stopped what I was doing and set down my paring knife. Without answering the question, I watched her for a moment. She was staring dreamily out the windows.

  “Gram?” I said. “How are you feeling?”

  Her eyes turned to me, but there was something vacant in them. “I’m fine, dear,” she replied.

  She had never called me ‘dear’ in my entire life. At least not that I could remember.

  I picked up my paring knife and continued hollowing out the red peppers but I kept an eye on her.

  “Do they have children?” she asked, and I looked up again.

  “Who?”

  “The couple on the deck.”

  My heart started to race, and I swallowed uneasily. “No, Gram, they don’t.”

  “What a shame,” she said. “They’re both so nice looking.”

  “Yes... they are,” I replied, choosing not to correct her while I finished preparing the red peppers to slide into the oven.