Page 100 of Always Meant for You
I’ve never seen anything like it. One moment, Gladys is clear-eyed and vibrant, and the next, she’s gone.
What was she talking about there at the end? What did Jamie always know?
“Gran, are you all right?” Cal asks, holding my hand tighter. “We’re all still here, still listening.”
“I think she’s faded, honey.” Margaret brushes a tear from her cheek. “But that was the most talkative I’ve seen her in a long time.”
Gladys hunches forward, lost again to her illness.
“Yeah, it was,” he whispers and swallows hard.
I glance between Gladys and Cal.
There has to be something else we can do for her to get her back.
I stare at Betty’s phone.
Maybe there is a way to reach Gladys.
“Do you mind if I try something, Cal?” I reach into my purse and pull out my cell.
Cal’s features harden, and he releases my hand. “No pictures, Mabel. We’re not posting my grandmother on whatever social media you set up for the town.”
“I’d never do that, Cal. And I’m not about to take a photo. This doesn’t have anything to do with the town’s marketing.” I open my music app, type in square-dancing, then hit play on the first song that comes up.
I don’t know a thing about this kind of music, but a catchy, rolling tune kicks in. Banjo twanging front and center.
The room falls still. Everyone looks my way. This might’ve been a huge mistake. My finger hovers over the pause button, then one sharp clap slices through the quiet.
Then another.
It’s Gladys keeping time.
Despite her vacant blue eyes, she feels the beat. Someone else joins in. And a few more. Until the whole place turns into a full-blown hoedown clap fest.
“Well, I’ll be,” Betty mutters.
Margaret surveys the room. “This makes sense. So many of the residents here used to take part in the Saturday night square dance.”
I turn to Cal, expecting to see him just as floored, but he checks his watch instead.
“We need to go,” he says under his breath.
I stare. “Why? This is amazing.”
“Cal makes his rounds today,” Margaret supplies.
“Rounds?” I ask.
“I visit the farms in the co-op after I visit Gran.”
“I see,” I say as the song ends and the clapping fades with it.
Cal stands and kisses his grandmother’s cheek. “See you soon.” He glances at the scarf in her lap and reaches for it.
“Let her keep it, Cal. You know I have plenty,” I say, waving him off. But it’s not about having extras. I don’t care if that was my only scarf. It brought Gladys back.
“Next time I’m here, we’ll tie it in a French knot and make you the fashion plate of the Elverna Skilled Nursing Center,” I whisper, squeezing her limp hand.
