Page 31 of Grounded
“What? Somebody, out with it!” Annie insisted.
“Beulah, tell her or I will,” Evelyn said.
“Oh, all right. I need a knee replacement. I’ll do it this fall.”
“Why does it have to wait? Why can’t you get it done now?” Annie asked.
“Good question, dear,” Evelyn said, folding her arms over her chest.
“Oh good heavens! In fifty years, I’ve never gone one summer without raising a garden or canning my own food. I’m not starting now, and that’s the end of that. This is just a bad spell. It will ease off, and I’ll be able to get around.”
“But Grandma, you’re in serious pain!” Annie protested.
“I’m not having the surgery now,” Beulah said.
“Just rest, dear, and let the medicine start working,” said Evelyn in a soothing voice.
“Evelyn, I’ll have to take a rain check on the Old Mill, but Annie can go.”
“No, I’ll stay here with you,” Annie said.
“We’ll see you at lunch tomorrow if you’re feeling better,” Evelyn said, patting Beulah on the arm.
Beulah was relaxing and her eyes drooped, the medicine taking effect. Annie followed Evelyn out to the back porch.
“How long has she had this?” she asked.
“Dr. Bright referred her to a surgeon over three months ago. She won’t do it until after summer. I’ve already tried.”
“Why is a garden that important to her?” Annie asked. “I went to the cellar last week to get something for her, and there are still canned fruits and vegetables from a couple of years ago.”
Evelyn sighed, her eyes following Jake as he pushed the wheel barrow toward the equipment shed.
“Many reasons, some even I don’t understand. But I do know food is her ministry. It’s how she takes care of people. The garden is an important part of that. I think it also marks the seasons in her life. If she goes a year without doing it, then maybe it’s the last time, which means she’s growing old. It’s a part of her life, a part of living on the farm. I think it’s somehow tied to Fred too.”
“Grandpa? How’s that?”
“Fred used to brag and brag to anyone who would listen about Beulah’s garden vegetables. Every Sunday in the summer, he would tell everyone at church how many quarts of beans she had put up, how many bags of corn she had frozen, how many quarts of tomatoes, on and on.” Evelyn slid into the passenger side of Jake’s SUV. “He was proud of her and her work. I think Beulah doesn’t want to let go of that memory either.”
“I put everything in the storage shed. Anything else we can do?” Jake asked.
“No. Thank you both for coming.” Annie felt a grateful affection for both mother and son.
“We’ll check on her later,” Evelyn said before they turned around and headed down the driveway, the rear bumper bouncing as tires dropped into deep potholes.
It was after dark when Annie heard a quiet knock on the back door.
“Hey!” Jake said, after Annie answered. “How’s Beulah?”
“Resting well. She must not take any medicine on a regular basis. That pain pill knocked her out! How was dinner?” Annie held the door, but Jake stood outside.
“Not the same. Can I offer you a fence post?” he asked.
Annie laughed. “Sure!”
She followed him out to the other side of the drive where the plank fence posts were positioned several feet apart. Annie and Jake selected two next to each other and climbed up to sit. No clouds obstructed the stars, and a full view of the spring night sky stretched above them.
“Ah, this is much better than sitting at the kitchen table,” Annie said.
