“For now. Mom said she’s frightened of watching you get older.”
“I’m frightened sometimes, too. But I’d rather have her here than miss another year.”
“Will you tell them?”
“Are they finished arguing?”
“Yes. Then I’d like my birthday cake.”
I offered my arm, and we returned to the dining room.
I pulled out her chair.
“Grandma, what do you want them to understand?”
She looked around the table.
“I wanted you here to celebrate with me. Instead, you started dividing my house while I’m still living in it.”
“I’d like my birthday cake.”
Nobody interrupted.
“Your father and I built this home. After he died, I worked hard to keep it. I haven’t decided to leave.”
“We were only trying to plan ahead, Mom,” Uncle Colin said.
“Then ask me when I’m ready to talk. If I decide to sell, I’ll tell you. Until then, this is my home.”
Mom reached for her hand.
“I’m sorry I missed those afternoons. Could I visit next Sunday?”
“Until then, this is my home.”
Grandma smiled.
“I’d love that, Sarah.”
Uncle Colin left before dessert. My aunt apologized. Another stayed to hear Grandma’s stories about Grandpa Richard.
I brought out the cake and lit the candles.
We sang while Grandma smiled at the family around her.
Grandma smiled.
Afterward, Mom stayed beside her for another slice.
Grandma asked about her work, and this time, Mom stayed long enough to tell her.
Nobody mentioned the house again.
***
Three weeks later, I arrived for my usual Sunday visit.
I heard laughter coming from Grandma’s kitchen.
Mom sat across from her, holding an old photograph.
Nobody mentioned the house again.
“Your father insisted that wall was crooked,” Grandma said.
Mom laughed.
“He never admitted that cabinet was his fault.”
I pulled up a chair.
Mom smiled at me.
“I’ve been coming on Sundays.”
I pulled up a chair.
“Grandma mentioned it.”
“I should’ve started sooner.”
“I’m glad you’re here now.”
She reached for Grandma’s hand.
“I’ve missed this, Mom.”
Grandma smiled.
“Grandma mentioned it.”
“So have I.”
Grandma picked up the photograph again.
“Your father always said we’d go back to the coast,” she told Mom.
I smiled as they began sharing memories.
For once, I didn’t feel the need to keep the conversation going for them.
***
A month after the birthday, Grandma asked me to visit.
I smiled as they began sharing memories.
When I arrived, she was sitting at the kitchen table with an old photograph.
It was the picture of her and Grandpa Richard at the coast.
“Remember when you asked me about this?” she said.
I nodded.
“I’ve decided I’m going back.”
I smiled.
It was the picture of her and Grandpa.
“Really?”
“Why not? I’ve spent enough years waiting for everyone to have time for me.”
She pushed the photograph toward me.
“I’d like you to come, Kylie. If you’re free.”
“I’d love to.”
“But first, promise me something.”
“I’d love to.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t put your whole life aside looking after mine.”
I took her hand.
“Grandma, spending time with you is something I choose.”
She smiled.
“Then let’s plan our trip.”
“Anything.”
I took out my phone.
We looked at places to stay and talked about what she’d like to see. I promised we’d plan around what felt comfortable for her.
For once, Grandma wasn’t arranging her days around other people’s schedules.
She was making plans for herself.
And I was happy to help her do it.
