Page 23 of Shit Happens in Ivydell

Josephine texts to say she and Tawny are meeting Petra at the community center, and we should come there instead. Then she calls to say Tawny is bringing a few bottles of wine. She says if I have any, I should bring it.

Okay, so this really is going to be a girls’ night. I explain the change of plans to Elma. She loves the idea of everyone gathering at the community center, but informs me she and Alma don’t partake of alcohol. She’ll bring her teapot.

“While you’re getting your teapot packed up, I’ll run back to my place and grab a bottle of wine.”

“Oh, that sounds fine. You can go on ahead. We’ll be there soon.”

Is it wrong to leave these old women to make their own way to the community center? It won’t be dark for hours. They walk all over Ivydell every day.

I leave, still unsure, but glad to go. Being in their casita made me nervous.

It felt like time slowed down the moment I stepped through their door. I’m happy to assume a brisk pace on the way back to Sparrow’s Song. No letter and no spirits.

Tawny says Leo is coming down in a bit to throw burgers on the grill. Apparently, Jensen and Cujo are bringing fish they caught today, and Dice is coming over to help with the cooking.

Nobody thinks twice about the men cooking while the women sit idly inside, sipping wine and chatting. No wonder Gran loved this place. Not that the women don’t work around here to keep this place going. Everyone does whatever needs doing. The way it should be.

I need to make sure I do my share. They might not ask me for much since I’m temporary, but I don’t want to be treated like a guest.

Jensen comes inside and sets another bottle of wine on the table. It’s the malbec he bought on our last trip to Hilltop. He kisses the top of my head before he goes back outside.

Myrna shimmies in her chair. “Ooh, I bet you’ve got some spicy stories you could share about Stinger.”

“No, she does not,” Petra says.

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

Josephine raises her eyebrows and mouths, “But you’ll share with me.”

Right, like she’d share anything about her and Cujo. I just laugh and shake my head.

“Gran must’ve loved it when everyone got together here.”

Petra nods and smiles. “Oh, she did. Patty loved to sit and gab.”

“She was a talker.” I refill my glass and top off Tawny’s.

Tawny and Josephine say they wish they could’ve met her. I love them for saying that because it inspires Petra to share stories about her. Hearing Gran introduced to them through these stories introduces her to me, too. I wasn’t born yet when she lived here, so this woman is new to me.

This is what I came here for. I sit lower in my chair and listen, watching Petra’s features soften and her eyes brighten as she talks about the woman she calls Patty. The woman who became Gran.

The more I hear, the more real it becomes that she truly was an entirely different woman back then. We’re all different people at different stages of our lives.

I’ve always felt like I knew exactly who I was, but I feel like I’m in a becoming stage right now, on my way to being someone else. Outward change doesn’t scare me, but I’ve never been so acutely aware of changes within me.

I was comfortable being who I was before Gran died, but the moment she left this world, something split apart inside me. I’ve been counting on the grief to cycle the way people say it does, expecting to wake up one day and be on the other side of it and back to myself. Sitting here in this odd place, I realize I won’t ever be that woman again. She was changed irreparably. And that’s okay. That acceptance arrives so abruptly, I break out in a sweat.

No one else seems to notice, but for a few moments, I feel like I’m standing in the corner, watching us all drinking and laughing. I see myself, but I don’t know her. I love her, and I know she’s going to be okay, but I don’t know how yet. And for the first time since Gran flew, that doesn’t scare the shit out of me. I believe it, and that’s enough.

Hearing my name brings me back to my chair. “What about me?”

“Pay attention,” Josephine teases. “Petra was saying how you don’t just look like your grandmother. Youareyour grandmother.”

Everyone laughs again, and I join in this time.

“Strong women raise strong women.” I lift my glass.

Tawny leads the toast. “To strong women. May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them.”

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