"Who's going to take care of the kennel?"
"Thibault. He's got it down to a science by now, even the training part of this. He said he'd be more than happy to work some additional hours. And he also said he'd drive me to Greensboro, so you don't have to worry about that, either. We've got it all worked out. He even volunteered to start straightening up the files for me." She speared a shrimp and chewed vigorously.
"Can he drive?" Beth inquired.
"He says he can."
"But he doesn't have a license."
"He said he'd get one at the DMV. That's why he left early. I called Frank, and he said he'd be glad to work him in for the driving test today."
"He doesn't have a car-"
"He's using my truck."
"How did he get there?"
"He drove."
"But he doesn't have a license!"
"I thought I already explained that." Nana looked at her as if she'd suddenly become slow-witted.
"What about the choir? You're just getting back into it."
"It's fine. I already told the music director I'd be visiting my sister, and she says there's no problem. In fact, she thinks it's a good idea. Of course, I've been with the choir a lot longer than she has, so she couldn't exactly say no."
Beth shook her head, trying to stay on subject. "When did you start planning all this? The visit, I mean?"
Nana took another bite and pretended to consider. "When she called and asked me, of course."
"When did she call you?" Beth pressed.
"This morning."
"This morning?" From the corner of her eye, Beth noticed Ben following the interchange like a spectator at a tennis match. She shot him a warning look before returning her attention to Nana. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"It's like candy on a battleship," Nana said with an air of finality.
"What does that mean?"
"It means," Nana said, "that I'm going to see my sister. She said she's bored and that she misses me. She asked me to come, and so I agreed to go. It's as simple as that."
"How long do you intend to be gone?" Beth suppressed a rising sense of panic.
"I'm guessing about a week."
"A week?"
Nana glanced at Ben. "I think your mom has caterpillars in her ears, She keeps repeating everything I say like she can't hear me."
Ben giggled and popped a shrimp into his mouth. Beth stared at them both. Sometimes, she thought, dinner with these two was no better than eating with the second graders in the cafeteria.
"What about your medicine?" she asked.
Nana added some more shrimp and grits to her bowl. "I'll bring it. I can take my pills there just as easy as I can take them here."
"What if something happens to you?"
"I'd probably be better off there, don't you think?"
"How can you say that?"
"Now that school has started, you and Ben are gone most of the day and I'm alone in the house. There's no way Thibault would even know if I was in trouble. But when I'm in Greensboro, I'll be with my sister. And believe it or not, she has a phone and everything. She stopped using smoke signals last year."
Ben giggled again but knew enough not to say anything. Instead, he grinned at the contents of his bowl.
"But you haven't left the kennel since Grandpa died-"
"Exactly," Nana cut her off.
"But…"
Nana reached across the table to pat Beth's hand. "Now, I know you're worried that you won't have my sparkling wit to keep you company for a while, but it'll give you a chance to get to know Thibault. He'll be here this weekend, too, to help you out with the kennel."
"This weekend? When are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow," she said.
"Tomorrow?" Beth's voice came out as a squeak. Nana winked at Ben. "See what I mean? Caterpillars."
After cleaning up the dinner dishes, Beth wandered to the front porch for a few solitary minutes. She knew Nana's mind was made up, and she knew she'd overreacted. Stroke or not, Nana could take care of herself, and Aunt Mimi would be thrilled to see her. Aunt Mimi had trouble walking to the kitchen these days, and it might very well be the last chance Nana had to spend a week with her.
But the exchange troubled her. It wasn't the trip itself that bothered her, but what their little struggle at the dinner table signaled- the beginning of a new role for her in coming years, one she didn't feel altogether ready for. It was easy to play parent to Ben. Her role and responsibilities were clear-cut' there. But playing parent to Nana? Nana had always been so full of life, so full of energy, that until a few months ago it had been inconceivable to Beth that Nana would ever slow down. And she was doing well, really well, especially considering the stroke. But what was going to happen the next time Nana wanted to do something that Beth honestly believed wasn't in her best interest? Something simple… like driving at night, for instance? Nana couldn't see as well as she used to, and what was going to happen in a few years when Nana insisted that she wanted to drive to the grocery store after work?
She knew that in the end, she'd handle these situations when the time came. But she dreaded it. It had been hard enough to keep Nana in check this summer, and that was when her physical problems were obvious even to Nana. What was going to happen when Nana didn't want to admit to them?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Nana's truck slowly rolling up the drive and coming to a stop near the back entrance to the kennel. Logan got out and went around to the bed of the truck. She watched him sling a fifty-pound bag of dog food over his shoulder and head inside. When he emerged, Zeus was trotting beside him, nosing at his hand; Beth figured that he must have kept Zeus inside the office while he'd been in town.
It took him a few more minutes to unload the rest of the dog food, and when he was done, he started toward the house. By then, dusk had begun to fall. The faint echo of thunder sounded in the distance, and Beth could hear the crickets beginning their evening song. She suspected the storm would hold off; with the exception of a couple of scattered showers, it had been miserably dry all summer. But the air, carried from the ocean, was scented with pine and salt, and she flashed on memories from a beach long ago. She could remember seeing spider crabs scuttling before beams from the flashlights that she and Drake and Grandpa were holding; her mom's face illuminated by the glow of the small bonfire her dad had started; the sight of Nana's marshmallow catching fire as they toasted them for smores. It was one of the few memories she had of her parents, and she wasn't even sure how much of it was real. Because she'd been so young, she suspected that Nana's memories had become fused with her own. Nana had told her the story of that night countless times, perhaps because it was the last time they'd all been together. Beth's parents had died in an auto accident only a few days later. "Are you all right?"
Distracted by her memories, Beth hadn't noticed that Logan had reached the porch. In the fading light, his features seemed softer than she remembered.
"Yeah, I'm fine." She straightened up and smoothed her blouse. "I was just thinking."
"I have the keys to the truck," he said, his voice quiet. "I wanted to drop them off before I went home."
When he held them out, she knew she could simply thank him and say good night, but-maybe because she was still upset that Nana had made her decision to leave without talking to her about it first, or maybe because she wanted to make her own decision about Logan-she took the keys and deliberately held his gaze. "Thanks," she said. "Long day for you, huh?"