Page 45 of Fight

Eleven

P

“He’s usually backby this hour.”

Bunica Mary sat at the kitchen table looking at the microwave clock. I looked at her, searching for any signs of worry. Unfortunately, much like her grandson, she could keep her thoughts hidden pretty well, so I had no idea if she was causally mentioning the time or if the late hour was something of concern.

I didn’t dare ask, either. First, because I knew better than to pry and didn’t want to make it seem like I’d been trying to get information from her. Something told me Ioan wouldn’t appreciate that.

Second, because I didn’t want to ruin the morning.

This time with Bunica Mary had been amazing. I’d helped her make breakfast, my help having consisted of handing her whatever items she wanted and watching as she turned ingredients into a delicious meal, all the while treating me as a welcome friend and not a strange outsider.

I’d never known my own grandmother, and anytime I’d imagined having one, it was like this, her kindness and warmth making me think everything would be okay.

“Are you okay, Bunica Mary?” I asked a few moments later.

She was resting in her chair, hands gripped tight around a cane that I hadn’t yet seen her use. But I could see she was fading.

“Fine, draga. Just a little tired,” she said.

“Would you like to lie down?” I asked, frowning, not wanting anything to happen to her because she was nice, and she was Ioan’s grandmother.

She shook her head. “I wanted to wait for Ioan, but I should go home and rest.”

“Let me take you…” I trailed off when I realized I didn’t have a car. I could call a cab, but I didn’t know the address, and didn’t know if Ioan would like me giving it out.

Bunica Mary saved me from that conundrum by standing. “I’ll leave as I arrived,” she said, still not leaning on the cane that she held.

“Which was how?” I asked, wondering why I hadn’t been smart enough to remember that she had gotten here somehow.

“My home is just down the road, so I walked,” she said.

I frowned deeper and then said, “Do you mind if I walk with you?”

She laughed. “I’ll never understand you young people fretting over an old lady, but I would like the company.”

I nodded and then went to put on my shoes and met her at the front door. I saw exactly what she was doing, and appreciated her for it. She’d given me a way to make sure she got home safely without forcing me to ask for too much information or do something else that might be beyond what Ioan wanted. And I appreciated her for it.

She opened the door, but when I paused, she looked back. “Don’t worry. It can stay open for a few minutes,” she said.

Then we started down the quiet street, chattering lightly. After what felt like half a mile or so, I started to worry. She was slowing down, but just as I went to speak, she nodded toward the third house down.

“It’s here, Patricia.”

I looked at the house, which seemed smaller than Ioan’s but well kept. I also let my eyes skate over the car and man in the driveway, not daring to risk lingering but unable to stop the way my heart pleasantly lurched when I looked at him.

“What are you doing out?” he asked when we reached him.

“I made you breakfast. Patricia helped,” Bunica Mary said.

Ioan glanced at me over her head and smiled, no doubt at my name. Patricia was a fine name, something I’d let him know if he dared broach the subject, and from the grin lighting his eyes, he would.

“Thank you, but you know you shouldn’t be out walking that far, and alone,” he said, wrapping his arm around Bunica’s and leading her up the driveway.

She waved him off but I could see that she leaned on him. As they got closer to the front door, I felt awkward, uncertain of what to do. I couldn’t join them, but I didn’t want to stand here either. It was time for me to go back.

“It was nice to meet you, Bunica Mary,” I said.

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