Puppa stepped to the plate. “It’s time to go, Patricia. Put your sunglasses on and meet me in the truck.”
A final nasty glare and off I stomped. The moment the kitchen door slammed behind me, I burst into tears. It was good that Puppa stopped my downward spiral. Who knew what had been about to come out of my mouth next?
I scrunched down in the front seat of the truck. What was my problem, anyway? Joel had bent over backward for me last spring, and almost been killed in the showdown at the lodge that morning. No wonder he and Sam got married right away. Life was too short to dillydally. And what had I been thinking? Their new baby would be blood to me, a second cousin twice removed or some such thing. I’d better have an apology ready next time I saw the new parents if I wanted to watch the little sweety grow up.
My grandfather climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The diesel roared to life. He backed up and started out the driveway.
The last time I’d been here, summer was just around the corner. Green grass, green leaves, a comfy seventy degrees. Now everything was white again. Snow on the ground, snow in the pines, snow in the clouds.
And last time, I’d been driving Brad’s SUV. I’d taken it right down this driveway, past the emergency vehicles, and onto the highway. I’d driven and driven and driven west, hoping to get to Del Gloria. But there’d been the pain in my arm, some blood on my sleeve, and a heavy fog in my mind. I must have been hanging on by a thread when I smashed into the back of that minivan somewhere in Minnesota.
I gave Puppa a sidelong glance. “So how’d Brad’s car do? Did it get fixed up okay?” Maybe I should have started with an apology for my earlier behavior, but I couldn’t even deal with it yet.
“Brad’s vehicle pulled through just fine.” No inflection in his voice.
“Sheesh.” I laughed in embarrassment. “Brad must have been so mad.”
“When you’re dead, the condition of the car doesn’t matter much.”
“That’s right. I supposedly died in that crash.” I met Puppa’s eyes. “Was Brad really torn up? I mean, he was sad, right? But he’s good now? He’s okay? And he doesn’t have a girlfriend or anything like that, right?”
Puppa stared at the road straight ahead. He sniffled and his words came out all scratchy. “I’m glad you’re alive, Patricia. It’s so good you’re alive.”
I left him alone the rest of the way, not wanting to see my grandfather cry.
22
Puppa’s home overlooking Silvan Bay appeared about the same in December as it had last March. It was too early for fishing shanties on the bay beyond the house, but another week or two of cold and they’d spring up like a village on the ice.
Unlike the warm aura of Christmas we’d found at my lodge, Puppa’s house looked cold and lonely. Two stories of gray shakes and white trim on the wraparound porch seemed dingy in the dull afternoon light. Not even the red steps and colorful stained-glass panels surrounding the front door could offset the home’s dismal spirit.
Puppa pulled the truck into the detached garage and turned off the engine. Neither of us moved. Perhaps we both dreaded the inevitable conversation to come. With a sigh for strength, I pushed open my door. He did the same. He closed the garage door behind us and we started toward the house.
A whinny from the barnyard stopped me in my tracks.
I faced the corral. “Goldilocks!”
In a moment I was hurdling the snowdrifts toward the horse Puppa had given me that spring. At the fence, I clung to her furry head, breathing against her soft muzzle.
“There’s my pretty pony. How are you, my Heaven Hills Gold?”
My grandfather joined me. “She recognized you. Even in that ridiculous wig.”
“You know who loves you, don’t you, girl?” I said in baby talk as I rubbed Goldie’s ear. I rested my face against hers. “It’s so good to be back. I missed my pony.” I laughed. “And Puppa. And Great-gram. And Gerard. What’s he up to these days, anyway?”
Puppa just kept looking at me like he couldn’t believe I was standing in his barnyard, cootchy-cooing my horse.
I went to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I love you. Wow, is it good to be home.”
He squeezed me to him like he wouldn’t let me go. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought I’d lost you.”
The pain in his voice triggered more tears from my eyes. I’d driven out of the driveway in Brad’s SUV seven months ago to avoid my own personal pain… what pain? Nothing could have hurt back then as bad as the pain of seeing my grandfather crying today.
His shoulders heaved in silent misery. I held on to him, not sure who was comforting whom. My socks were wet with melted snow and my bare hands were turning numb. I pulled away.
“Come on. Let’s get inside. I’ll make you and Grandma Olivia a cup of tea.”
He followed me into the mudroom. We hung our coats and stacked our shoes in a neat row. I couldn’t help but notice ours were the only two pair. Joel must have taken the overload of coats and boots with him to my lodge.
I walked up the steps to the kitchen. The house felt abandoned. A pile of dirty dishes sat to one side of the sink, waiting for attention. I scurried to fill the teapot with water. I set it on the stove and turned the burner to high. Blue flames shot out from beneath the silver container.
“There. Let’s go visit with Great-gram while that’s brewing.” I walked the length of the dining area to the living room. Water spots smudged the view of the lake, the film lending a haze to the already monotone landscape. Great-gram’s knitting basket sat by her rocking chair, the yarn neatly balled. Needles poked like chopsticks from the host of colors. I wondered what she was working on this month. Probably a blanket for her new great-great-grandbaby-to-be. At the thought of the new generation, my hand went to my stomach. Why couldn’t I be the one having the child?
I ran down the list of why-nots as I headed to Greatgram’s room to track her down. First, I wasn’t married. Second, I was on the run from the backwoods mob, and that was no time to start a family. Third, I was just starting to creep out of emotional adolescence. Fourth…
I turned the corner to Grandma Olivia’s room. I gave a quiet knock at the half-closed door. When there was no answer, I pushed it open. The resulting breeze twisted the mobile that hung from the ceiling’s center, sending the perpetually hungry lion chasing after the giraffes.
I smiled and looked toward the other end of the room, expecting to see Great-gram. But the hospital-style bed was neatly made, covered with her favorite afghan. The straight-back chair I’d once sat in to hold her hand as she slept was tucked against the wall.
My hands gripped the doorway. With Puppa standing a mere six feet away, watching my reaction, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t understand what the empty bed meant. My fingers pressed against my mouth, sealing in the moan that would have gushed out.
I blinked and hot tears squeezed out. “When did she die?”
“August.”
I nodded, sniffling. I’d left this place so that I could be safe in Del Gloria. And while I’d been hiding out, my ninety-three-year-old great-grandmother had died. Such a high price I’d paid for serenity. Only to discover now that there was no such thing. The pain I’d hoped to avoid had multiplied… and multiplied. How could I survive this news? And what else happened while I was gone? Puppa took me in his arms and cried with me.
“I thought… I thought I’d get to know her better before… she died.” My voice shook with emotion.
Puppa shook his head. “She was so glad for the time you had together. You brought her hope she’d never had. You loved her even though she acted unlovable. That’s what she said about you at your funeral.”
A huge sniffle. “I can’t believe she spoke at my funeral. And now she’s gone…” A shuddering sigh.