by Terri Reid
“Okay, well, that would be great,” Stacy agreed, her mood lightening even more. “Thank you.”
“If you’re at my place by seven-thirty we’ll have more than enough time to check in and get to the concessionary by eight-thirty,” he suggested.
Smiling, she nodded. “Great, I’ll be there at seven-thirty,” she said.
She was about to say more when she heard the screen door creak open. “Oh, there you are Stacy,” Addie called from the door. “I didn’t hear the car pull up. When did you get home?”
Addie looked around at the others in the driveway. “Well, Henry, good to see you,” she said. “Are you here to visit your grandpa?”
Henry nodded and smiled at her. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, deciding not to remind her that he drove Stacy to work that morning. “How was your day?”
“It was lovely,” she said, and then she paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “Stacy, dear, there was something I meant to tell you, but I can’t think of it right now.”
“That’s okay, Grandma,” Stacy said, fighting back tears as she realized her grandmother was no longer able to care for herself at all. “I’m sure you’ll remember it later if it was important.”
Henry placed his hand on Stacy’s shoulder and gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said softly, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze.
“Thanks, yes, tomorrow,” she replied, and then she turned to Sam. “Thanks again, Sam.”
“It’s always my pleasure,” Sam replied, giving Stacy a kiss on her forehead.
Henry walked back to his pickup and watched as Stacy walked over to her grandmother, put her arm around Addie’s shoulders and gently guided her back inside. He nearly turned back, a strong urge to protect her nearly overwhelming him, but then he happened to glance at the storm doors at the side of the house and felt sick. She wouldn’t be in this situation if her mother and father were alive. And they both would have been alive if he hadn’t been a stupid and careless kid.
Shaking his head in disgust, he climbed into the pickup, closed the door and stared at the house. That one careless action was going to ruin his life forever.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Closing the door behind them, Stacy led Addie into the kitchen, helped her sit down at the table and moved to the stove, trying to keep busy. “Do you want a cup of tea, Grandma?” she asked, automatically picking up the tea kettle and carrying it to the sink.
Addie leaned back in her chair and folded her arms comfortably across her ample chest. “So, how did things go today at work?” she asked.
“Fine,” Stacy replied, carrying the kettle back to the stove and turning on the burner below it. “Actually, better than fine. I received a promotion and I’m now full-time salaried.”
“That’s wonderful,” Addie replied. “And did you and Henry celebrate?”
“Actually, we did,” Stacy said. “We went out to lunch before we visited some galleries. It was a nice place; it’s called The Red Door.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I’ve ever been there,” Addie said, pausing to search her memory for a moment. “I’ll have to ask your grandfather when he gets home. He’s much better at remembering things like that.”
Her heart in her throat, Stacy sat down across from her grandmother. “Grandma,” she said. “Grandpa’s not coming home.”
“What?” Addie responded sharply, unfolding her arms and slapping them on the table. “Of course he is; he’ll be home from work any time now.”
Reaching over, Stacy covered her grandmother’s hands with her own and met her eyes. “Grandma,” she said softly. “Grandpa died. Remember? He died when I was in high school.”
She could see the confusion in her grandmother’s eyes and felt her hands shaking beneath her own. Addie turned away from Stacy and stared out the window for a few minutes. Finally, after a few minutes, she turned back to Stacy. “Why, of course I remember,” she said, her voice strained. “I suppose I just forgot.” She nodded slowly. “Yes, of course I remember.”
Stacy smiled at her and lightly squeezed Addie’s hands. “It’s been one of those days,” she said, trying to sound optimistic. “Hasn’t it?”
The confusion seemed to be gone from Addie’s face, and now it was bright and focused. Stacy felt her heart lighten; maybe it was just a momentary lapse.
“Yes, it certainly has been one of those days,” Addie said. “Oh, by the way, dear, did you call the garage about the car? It wasn’t working today.”
Her heart dropping, Stacy nodded. “Yes, I did,” she said. “I’ll bring it in tomorrow on my way to work.”
“Perfect,” Addie replied with a tender smile. “It’s so nice to have you home taking care of things. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Don’t worry, Grandma,” Stacy replied. “I’ll always be here to take care of you.”
The kettle whistled, and Stacy got up to take it off the burner. “Did you want tea?” she asked her grandmother once again.
“Stacy, how many times do I have to tell you that I want tea?” Addie asked, her voice filled with frustration. “I swear there is something wrong with your memory.”
Deciding not to correct her, Stacy pulled a mug from the shelf, placed a tea bag in it and poured the hot water into the cup. “Sorry, Grandma,” she said. “It will be ready in a minute.”
Addie smiled and nodded. “Thank you, dear,” she said. “And how was your day?”
Stacy mentally made a note that she would need to make an appointment for Addie with her doctor as soon as possible. “Grandma,” she asked, as an idea formed in her mind. “Did you take your medications today?”
“What medications, dear?” Addie asked.
Opening the kitchen cabinet that held her pill bottles, Stacy was surprised to find the shelf empty. “Grandma, where are your pills?” she asked.
Addie stared at her for a moment, once again confused, and then she suddenly smiled. “Oh, I remember,” she said. “I threw them away two days ago.”
“Threw them away?” Stacy asked. “Why would you do that?”
“Well, I was watching a show that said you shouldn’t keep old medicine,” she answered. “So I threw them away.”
“But they weren’t old,” Stacy said.
“Oh, dear,” Addie said. “I was sure they were old. You know, they tasted quite stale. Are you quite sure they weren’t old?”
Nodding, Stacy realized why her grandmother had been acting so strange. “When did you throw them away?” she asked.
“Oh, it was Friday,” Addie said, “Because trash day was Saturday.”
“Do you remember which trash can you threw them in?” Stacy asked.
“I believe I brought them into my bathroom,” Addie replied. “Or did I flush them down the toilet?” She paused again, thinking, and then shook her head. “No, I didn’t because of the pollution of our ground water.”
What in the world has she been watching? Stacy wondered as she pushed herself away from the table. She grabbed the cup of tea and placed it on the table. “Here’s your tea, Grandma,” she said. “Why don’t you sip on it while I check your bathroom for your pills?”
Dashing from the room, she hurried to the other side of the house in search of the medication. Her grandmother’s bathroom was still decorated with mint-green-colored fixtures from the fifties and matching shower and window curtains. She always felt like she was stepping back in time when she entered it. Everything was in place, from the crocheted toilet paper covers to the shelves with small baskets filled with curlers and bobby pins. Stacy bent down and retrieved the plastic, mint green, waste basket, but it was empty.
After putting it back down on the floor, Stacy opened the mirrored medicine cabinet over the sink. Stacks of rubber-banded letters were stacked together next to bottles of make-up and over-the-counter cold remedies, but no prescription bottles. She closed the cabinet and decided to check in Addie’s bedroom.
Opening the closet do
or, Stacy’s heart constricted when she saw her grandfather’s clothes hanging in front of her. She could still picture him wearing his old, favorite suit. Maybe that’s why Addie hadn’t been able to throw them out. They helped her picture him, too.
She searched throughout the closet and on top of the bureaus but had no luck. Finally, she found a small, waste basket next to the nightstand in the corner of the room. Picking it up, she heard something rattle beneath a woman’s magazine that had been tossed inside. Moving the magazine to the side, she sighed with relief when she discovered the bottles of medicine.
“Grandma,” she called, hurrying back through the house. “I found them.”
“Stacy,” her grandmother replied, getting up from the table. “Oh, Stacy, you’re home from work. That’s wonderful. I was just thinking about making some tea.”
“Why don’t you just relax,” Stacy insisted. “And I’ll make the tea.”
Addie sat back down at the table, picked up her mug of still warm tea and sipped. “That would be wonderful, dear,” she said contentedly.
Chapter Thirty
The doorbell rang, and Stacy glanced at the clock as she hurried to answer the door. Melba was right on time, and Stacy breathed a sigh of relief. That was one less thing she had to worry about. Melba Stewart was a stout woman with peppered-gray hair and a friendly face. She had raised eight children while helping her husband work a small dairy farm, but once her children grew up and her husband died, she bought herself a small house in town. She had met Addie through their church, and they had been friends for years.
“Good morning, Stacy,” Melba said with a smile. “It’s a wonderful morning, although my knees are telling me we are going to get some rain this afternoon.”
“Meteorologists should hire your knees,” Stacy replied with a chuckle. “I don’t think they’ve ever been wrong. Come in, please.”
Melba walked into the kitchen and placed a large box on the table. “I’ve been working on a quilt, and I thought Addie might enjoy helping me,” she said.
“That would be wonderful,” Stacy agreed. “I spoke to her doctor yesterday, and he said that it might take a few days for her medications to reach their full effect.”
Melba nodded. “Don’t you worry your sweet head, Stacy,” she said. “I will watch over your grandma like a hen watches over her chicks.”
Stacy smiled. “That’s a good thing, right?”
Laughing, Melba shook her head. “You city slicker, you,” she teased. “Yes, that’s a very good thing.”
With Addie and Melba happily chatting at the kitchen table, Stacy left the house and hurried to her car. In a few moments, she was driving down the road to Henry’s house, feeling a little guilty about how happy she was to see him. She thought back to her busy night with Addie, and even though she hardly had a moment to herself, Henry had slipped into her thoughts more than once. She sighed and smiled. Each time had been wonderful.
She turned on the lane to Henry’s house, remembering that the last time she had been down the road she had been on her bike hauling aluminum cans for gas money. Funny how life could change in just a week’s time. As she pulled closer to his driveway, her attention was drawn to the bright red Mercedes convertible parked in front of the house across the street from Henry. That looked just like Lorraine’s car. She realized she didn’t really know where Lorraine lived, but she hadn’t thought Lorraine lived so close to Henry. A flash of jealousy darkened her spirits. She was never going to be able to compete with Lorraine; Lorraine had looks, money and proximity. With a totally different kind of sigh, Stacy pulled into Henry’s driveway and parked off to the side of the garage.
As soon as she closed the door, she heard the garage door open, and Henry walked out. “Good morning,” he said with a wide smile. “How’s your grandmother?”
“She’s doing better,” she replied, walking across the drive to meet him. “It turns out she had stopped taking her medications. So, she’s back on them now, and Melba Stewart is over at the house keeping an eye on things.”
“Are you okay with Melba watching things?” he asked. “Do you need to take some time off?”
Is he already regretting his offer to drive me into work? she wondered. Besides, this is my first day with my new job; I can’t take time off now.
“No, I’m fine,” she said. “Melba’s great with Grandma.”
Nodding, he smiled again. “Well, good, I was hoping you wouldn’t have to take time off,” he explained.
“You were?” she asked, trying to tamp down the excitement in her voice.
Henry’s heart twisted when he saw the eager look on her face. It would be so easy to let himself fall in love with her, so easy to forget the past and never bring it up. But if she found out, no, when she found out, it would break her heart, and he refused to hurt her again.
Shrugging, he tried for a less delighted look. “Well, yeah, you know we have a lot to do before the fundraiser.”
Her smile lessened, and she nodded. “Yes, of course,” she replied. “We want to be sure that everything goes smoothly for the fundraiser.”
Hating himself for dampening her spirits, he turned towards his truck. “Ready to go?” he asked, shoving his hands in his back pockets to keep from touching her.
“Yes, ready,” she said, keeping her voice as business-like as possible. Turning, she caught sight of the red convertible again. “I didn’t realize you and Lorraine were neighbors.”
He glanced towards the house across the street and shrugged. “Yeah, she and her family moved in there about eight years ago,” he said. “She and I hung around a little when I was in high school.”
After you stopped hanging around with me, Stacy thought, but bit back the words.
But the unspoken words seem to dangle in the air between them as they both struggled for something else to say. “Um, Melba says there could be rain this afternoon,” Stacy desperately interjected.
“Really?” he replied politely as he opened her door for her. “Does Melba know a little something about weather?”
Shaking her head, Stacy settled into the seat. “No, her knees tell her.”
Henry froze, his hand still on the open door. “She talks to her knees?” he asked.
She couldn’t help it. A giggle bubbled up through her lips, and Henry responded with a grin. “No, she has arthritis, and whenever her knees hurt, she knows there’s going to be rain,” she explained.
He nodded slowly, closed the door and then climbed in on his side. “I actually do something very similar to that,” he said as he put the key in and started the truck.
“You do?” she asked. “What?”
“It’s not my knees,” he explained. “It’s my hand.”
“Really?”
He turned to her and nodded. “Yes, I stick my hand out the window and if it comes back wet, I can tell it’s raining outside.”
Laughing and shaking her head, she turned to him. “I should have known you were setting me up,” she said.
“What?” he asked innocently, a twinkle in his eyes. “It works. And it even works better when it’s snowing.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Lorraine sat drinking a cup of coffee on the velvet window seat in her bedroom, gazing out over the front lawn of her parent’s home towards the driveway of her nearest neighbors, the Guthries. She’d developed this habit since they moved into the house years ago. She had insisted her parents move so she could cultivate a relationship with Henry, the wealthiest boy in town. She knew, just given the chance, that she could reel him in, hook, line and sinker. And when her parents balked at giving her the master bedroom just because it was the only bedroom in the house with a front view, she just threw a temper tantrum until she got her own way. She knew they wouldn’t last long. They always gave in to her.
Leaning forward, she parted the curtain slightly wider when she saw the late-model car pull into the driveway. She knew the housekeeper had arrived forty-five minutes earlier. Who was st
opping by the house at this hour? Watching carefully, she nearly choked on her coffee when she saw Stacy step out of the car and walk to the house.
“What the hell?” she choked. “Who does she think she is?”
Jumping up, she slammed her mug on the dresser and ran across the room to pull her robe from the hook on the back of her door. Stuffing her arms through the sleeves, she was about to tie the belt when she heard the garage door open across the street. Rushing back across the room, she threw open the curtains and stared. Henry was out there! With her!
She watched as Henry walked Stacy to his truck and opened the door for her. She watched him pause, speak to Stacy and laugh. Then Lorraine’s eyes widened as Henry climbed into the other side, turned and laughed at a joke that was just between the two of them.
“There is no them,” she spat through clenched teeth. “There is no them. There can’t be a them. I won’t let there be a them.”
She ripped her robe off and threw it on the ground on her way to her walk-in closet. Grabbing a pair of jeans and a shirt off the shelves, she quickly pulled them on, slid her feet into some flip-flops and hurried from her room. Running down the stairs, she pushed the double front doors open with so much force they slammed against the brick façade of the home. Not lessening her stride, she stormed across the street straight to the front door of the Guthrie home and pounded on the front door with her fist.
She had already seen both of Henry’s parents leave for the day and knew the only person who would be at home would be their housekeeper, Olga. She could hear someone running towards the door, and she pounded again. The door was swept open, and the petite housekeeper was breathing heavily. “What’s wrong?” she panted.
Taking a moment to think the situation through, Lorraine realized that whatever she said would probably be repeated to the rest of the family, and she couldn’t risk another faux pas with Henry’s mother. Inhaling quickly, she pasted a smile on her face and lifted her hand to her lips in mock surprise. “Oh dear,” she exclaimed softly. “I am so sorry, Olga. I thought you’d be in the kitchen and wouldn’t be able to hear a light knock. I certainly didn’t mean to upset you.”