Page 2 of Serve and Protect
Hearing her say my mom’s name causes a knot to form in my throat. “No, Granny. I’m Jennie, your granddaughter. Sandra is my mom.” Or, rather, shewas.
There’s no point in reminding Granny about the loved ones she has lost, like her husband and her daughter. If I tell her, she’ll experience the heartbreak all over again. She’ll bedevastated. And ten minutes later, she’ll forget entirely. If I can spare her that heartbreak, I will.
“Oh!” She smiles. “I’m so glad you could come visit me. I hope you can stay a while.”
“I would love to,” I say as I pour myself a cup of coffee and add French vanilla creamer from the fridge. “Thank you.”
There’s no point in reminding her that we’ve lived together for the past two decades, since I was eight years old. That was the year I became an orphan. The year she and Grandpa took me into their home and into their lives.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” I ask.
“Yes, please, dear.” She smiles at me. “You’re so kind to ask. I’m sure George would love some, too.” She glances around the kitchen. “I haven’t seen him this morning. Have you?”
My throat tightens like it always does when she mentions Grandpa. A heart attack took him from us ten years ago, and yet she asks about him every day. “I believe he went to the store to pick up a few things.”
Granny smiles. “Of course.” She reaches down to pet Pumpkin. “Good morning, my sweet boy.” Then she turns her attention back to me. “He probably went to buy cat food. You know how much he loves Pumpkin.”
At the sound of a quiet knock at the kitchen door, I unlock the door knob and both deadbolts to let Dawn Keller in. “Good morning, Dawn.”
“Morning, Jennie.” Dawn shuts the door behind her and secures all three locks. The extra deadbolt is so high up, Dawn has to rise up on her tippy toes to turn it. Granny can’t reach that lock.
Dawn takes a seat at the kitchen table. “Good morning, Ms. Rosie.” When she sees the empty placemat in front of Granny, she asks, “Have you had breakfast yet?”
Granny looks at Dawn, studies her a moment, and then smiles. “Are you my daughter?” And then, speaking to no one in particular, she says, “I have a daughter, you know.”
Dawn doesn’t miss a beat as she smiles at Granny. “I’m Dawn, your neighbor. I’m here to visit with you today while Jennie goes to work.”
“That’s a pretty name,” Granny says.
“How about a cup of coffee, Ms. Rosie?” Dawn asks. “I’ll even put some of that yummy French vanilla creamer you like in it.”
“That sounds nice,” Granny says. “I think I will.”
While I pour a cup for Granny, Dawn asks her, “Would you like some toast to go with your coffee? That sounds good, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, yes, it does.” Granny nods. “Thank you.”
After setting Granny’s French vanilla coffee in front of her, I pop a slice of bread in the toaster.
Dawn reaches out to gently squeeze Granny’s hand. “Eggs go really well with toast, don’t they?”
Granny nods emphatically. “Yes, they do.”
Dawn rises from the table and heads to the refrigerator to pull out a carton of eggs. “Would you prefer your eggs scrambled or over easy?”
“Over easy, I think,” Granny says as she takes a sip of her coffee. “This is good.”
Thank you, I mouth to Dawn. She has such a way with Granny. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
Dawn winks at me as she mouths back,no problem.
Dawn Keller has lived next door to my grandparents since before I came to live here. I hired her about five years ago, when it became clear Granny couldn’t stay home alone. She watches Granny on weekdays while I’m at the diner. I come home for two-hour breaks between the meal rushes to spell Dawn for a bit, giving her a chance to go home and relax or run errands.Fortunately, we live only two blocks from the restaurant, so it’s easy for me to come and go as needed.
Dawn gives me a side hug. “I’ve got this, young lady. You get going or you’ll be late.”
I finish getting ready, and then, on my way out the kitchen door, I slip on my work shoes and grab a sweater. I head out on foot for the five-minute trek to the diner.
As I pass my next-door neighbor, Mrs. Robinson, who’s outside planting pansies in the front garden of her Victorian home, I say good morning. Mrs. Robinson watches Granny on Saturdays while I’m at the diner for half a day. I take Sundays off so I can spend a quiet day at home.
