Page 33 of Grounded
For all her mother’s physical frailties, her grandmother had been the very opposite: hearty and tough, strong of mind and body. Annie believed her grandmother would always be there for her to push against. If her grandmother said something was black, Annie claimed it was white, while her grandfather mediated between the two.
After he died, Annie hadn’t wanted to forge a new relationship with her grandmother. It was easier to ignore in New York where life traveled at the speed of light. But here, in the quiet and stillness of the country, the truth was plain.
Thinking back over the years past, she understood now that her grandmother had tried in the best way she knew how: phone calls, letters, requests for visits, admonitions when needed, and love in the way she knew how to show it. Annie, on the other hand, had focused only on herself, what she needed and what felt good to her. Annie had given nothing back. Even worse, she had pushed her grandmother away these last two years, when they needed each other more than ever.
There were no excuses now, no reasons not to do what was right. For once, she needed to put her grandmother’s needs before her own. The decision settled, Annie finally gave in to a deep and peaceful sleep.
The next morning, Annie was up before her grandmother. She plugged in the percolator and was already into her first cup of coffee when her grandmother hobbled into the kitchen, using one of her grandfather’s canes for support. Still in her nightdress and slippers, she looked older and weaker, Annie thought.
“How do you feel?” Annie asked.
“I’ll be fine as soon as I get some coffee and take my pills. Don’t believe I’ll go to church today. First time I’ve missed since the weekend after Fred died.”
“Sit down, and I’ll get your coffee for you.”
“Now, there’s no sense in making a fuss,” Beulah protested.
“I’m not making a fuss, only getting your coffee.”
Reluctantly, Beulah sat down.
Annie talked as she poured. “Why don’t we call that surgeon on Monday and make an appointment to see him?”
“Annie …”
“Look, Grandma. I thought about it last night. I don’t have a job right now. I can stay here and do the gardening and canning until you get back on your feet.”
“Annie, you’re going back to New York soon. We won’t even get in to see the surgeon before then.”
“Grandma, I can stay here as long as necessary. I might get my job back in three months, but it might be six. This is really a good time for you to have the operation.”
“That’s sweet of you, but your life is up North. You’ll soon tire of caring for an old woman.”
“Grandma,” Annie leaned in. “I want to do this. Let me do something for you for once. You gave up your life to finish raising me. Now it’s my turn to do one small thing for you.”
There were tears in her grandmother’s eyes, a rare thing indeed.
“Now, I don’t remember anything about canning and not much about gardening, so you’ll have to teach me. But I can do it.”
“I’ve always wanted to teach you, but I couldn’t figure how that would help you in New York City.” Beulah laughed.
“It will help me more than you know.”
Chapter Fourteen
Beulah sipped her coffee, trying to figure out what was different. She had told Annie how many scoops to put in the percolator basket, but it seemed much stronger. Personally, she always liked strong coffee, but it seemed a waste to run through a can too fast.
Sitting on the edge of her twin bed brought down from the spare bedroom upstairs, Beulah looked around her new bedroom, amazed at the miracle Annie and Jake had worked in only a couple of hours Sunday afternoon. They moved her sewing machine and table upstairs along with all the material and other supplies and moved the bed, nightstand, Bible and a lamp down the steps. Some of her clothes were now in the small closet where yards of material used to be, and lickety-split, she had a bedroom on the first floor.
Thank heavens Fred had the foresight to add a full bathroom onto the closed-in back porch when Annie entered her teenage years. He had taken to using that one, giving Beulah and Annie full control of the upstairs bathroom. Knowing Fred, he had probably also been thinking it would be a handy addition for their senior years, although he never said as much.
Last Sunday was the first time Beulah had missed church in years. Church attendance wasn’t compulsory to being a Christian, Beulah knew that, but it was like the hand being separated from the arm: Missing church just didn’t feel right. However, it was awful nice to rest, and what with the funny way those pain pills made her feel, it was better not to be in the church house and saying things a body wouldn’t normally say.
Thinking of arms, Annie had become those for her these last couple of days. Arms and legs.
“Thank you, Lord,” Beulah said the words out loud from an overflow in her heart. “What would I have done without her?”
Her granddaughter had called the surgeon on Monday and made her an appointment for later in the week. She must have worked some magic with the doctor’s office. First they said it would be a couple of weeks, but Annie offered to bring her any time, even if it was a last-minute cancellation, and sure enough, they called back and changed it to Friday morning.
