After he was discharged from the hospital, Kathleen drove him back to his grandmother’s house. As they pulled up to the porch, he was surprised to see the truck he’d driven to the Barn Dance now parked next to the house. He gave Kathleen a curious look. “How did the truck find its way home?”
“Marcia and I did it. It turned out that someone had added water to the fuel line, so it stalled out halfway down the road. Luckily, she was driving right behind me at the time. We had to get it towed. The mechanic fixed it. Don’t ask me how.”
“Thanks for taking care of it.”
She flexed. “You will find that not only am I strong, I am also resourceful.”
He grinned. She was really something. Their relationship had evolved from just friends to more than friends without even a discussion. “Smartest, strongest woman I know. Thank you.”
“I have another surprise for you as well. In the kitchen.”
If Joe expected a gourmet feast or an apple pie, he would have been disappointed. Instead of delicious food, he found Pearl sitting at the table, her big purse in her lap, her walker positioned next to her like a loyal dog.
“Joe!” she said, her face lighting up. “I’m so glad to see you!”
“It’s good to see you too.”
She’d called him at the hospital but hadn’t visited. It was a long drive that required asking someone to take her, and she’d been too tired for an outing. “This old body is betraying me,” she’d said during the call. “It doesn’t cooperate at all anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. I just got old and got cancer.” There was a long pause, and then she said, “Funny, but I never thought it would happen to me.”
Talking to his grandmother alone had been first on his list of things to do once he’d returned from the hospital. Knowing this, Kathleen had made it happen.
Now his grandmother was here, ready and waiting. “Do you feel better?” she asked.
“A ton better,” Joe assured her. “Once the arm heals, I’ll be good as new.” He pulled out a chair and sat across from her.
Without a word, Kathleen got out two glasses and took a pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator. After she’d set the lemonade and a napkin in front of each of them, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, I have to run a quick errand. I’ll be back in about an hour.”
After she left the room, Pearl said, “That girl is sweet on you.”
“I hope you’re right.” He took a sip of his drink. “The feeling is mutual.”
She leaned over and put her hand over his. Her skin was warm and transparent as tissue paper, the veins showing through the skin. “I want to thank you for bringing your father to me. We had a nice talk.”
Joe nodded. At the hospital, Linda had surreptitiously filled him in while his parents were in the hallway, talking to the doctor. All three of them had gone to visit Pearl at Pine Ridge Hollow after leaving the hospital the day before. Pearl, knowing they were coming, was waiting. When she opened the door to her apartment, she greeted them, then asked their father, “Bill, can you give an old lady a hug?” Linda said he’d hesitated for only a second before he walked into her outstretched arms. It was a short hug, Linda said, but still, after so many decades, Joe considered it a minor miracle. “Dad told her that they’ll never be able to agree on things, but that he was willing to move forward if she was. And then she said all she wanted was his forgiveness, and he said, ‘Life is too short to hold on to grudges. I can’t forget what happened in the past, but I can forgive you.’” Linda’s eyes widened in amazement. “I think he did it because Mom told him to, but later in the car, he said just saying the words made him feel better.”
Just saying the words and knowing you were heard. Sometimes that was all it took. Joe said, “I didn’t really bring him to you, but you’re welcome.”
“Oh, but you did,” she said. “When you got into the car at Trendale, you took a leap of faith that brought him here. If not for you, I would have died without seeing my only son one more time or meeting my grandchildren.” Joe noticed that his grandmother looked changed since the last time he’d seen her. Softer, more fragile. It seemed to him that she had less fight in her, and for a moment, he considered letting it go, not bringing up the subject of Alice’s death at all. But if he did that, he’d be robbing her of closure.