Page 28 of Pucking Secret

“Mommy,when we get to Gram’s, can I have juice?”

I look up and catch Millie’s reflection in the car’s rear view mirror. She’s gazing at me expectantly and I give her a smile.

“Sure, baby. I’m sure Gram’s will have some for you.”

It’s a bright, sunny Sunday afternoon, and Millie and I are visiting grandma.

This visit is a good distraction for me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Owen, even though I haven’t seen him since Thursday. I keep going over and over whether he knows about Millie, and the more I think about it, the more certain I am that he doesn’t know, which means he couldn’t have gotten my voicemail. And if that’s the case, he didn’t just ignore my pleas for him to call me.

As much as I hate to admit that possibility changes things between us… it does. It doesn’t make up for the fact that he left me without saying goodbye, or the letter I received afterwards, but it does mean he wasn’t as callous as I thought.

The only problem is, I really don’t know what to do with this realization.

I even took Friday off so I could avoid him and get my head on straight. It’s pretty cowardly of me, yeah, but I don’t care. I need to figure out how I’m going to deal with this situation without dragging Millie into the middle of this mess.

When we reach the assisted living facility, I find a parking spot and Millie and I make our way through the front entrance. The interior of the building is friendly looking, the walls painted a soft blue with framed paintings of wide, green landscapes hanging on them. The floor is a light gray tile that’s clean and shiny, and there are vases of fresh cut flowers sitting on console tables on either side of the entryway as you walk inside. The place feels cheery and well cared for, which was important to me when we were looking for places for Gram to go. I hated the idea of her in some drab, depressing retirement home where the residents had no real sense of community or engagement.

Straight ahead as we walk into the building is the curved, wooden reception desk. The attendant standing behind it looks up at us and gives us a broad smile.

“Oh! Stacey, Millie, hello! Mrs. Dixon will be so happy to see you both.”

“How’s she doing?” I ask as I sign in.

“She’s a delight,” the attendant answers. “Everyone loves your grandma.”

That doesn’t surprise me in the least. Gram has made quite the group of friends since she’s lived here. Once we’re checked in, I take Millie’s hand and we make our way down the hallway toward her room.

“Knock, knock,” I say, poking my head through the open door.

Gram is sitting in her favorite rocking chair next to a large window overlooking the garden. Her room is good sized, and is really more like a small apartment. She has a separate bedroom, bathroom, and a small kitchenette attached to herliving room, though there is a community dining room that serves three meals a day. She’s knitting, her brow scrunched as she concentrates on her work, but quickly looks up at the sound of my voice. Her green eyes twinkle as her face lights up with a bright smile.

“Stacey!” she exclaims, and then her gaze lands on Millie, who slips in beside me. “Millie, sweetie! What a lovely surprise.”

“Hi, Gram!” Millie exclaims, rushing to her.

I bend down to kiss Gram’s cheek. “How are you feeling today?”

“Oh, I’m doing just fine,” she says, patting my hand as I sit on the edge of her little sofa, kitty-corner to her chair. Millie climbs into her lap. Gram is small and plump, but she’s still strong and doesn’t bat an eye to have the six-year-old sitting on her. Her hip seems to be as good as new now that she’s fully recovered.

“Gram, can I have some juice, please?” Millie asks in a sweet voice.

“Of course, sweet pea,” my grandma says, reaching for the mini-fridge right next to her chair to pull out a juice box. She hands it to Millie with a wink. “Don’t spill now, alright?”

“I won’t,” Millie assures her. “Mama let me have a soda yesterday, and I drank the whole thing without spilling once!”

“Oh, is that so?” Gram shoots me a smile and a wink. “You’re getting to be such a big girl, aren’t you?”

Millie nods. “Yep! My skating teacher says that I’m going to move up to the bigger kid class soon because I’m getting too big for the little kid one.”

“That’s wonderful news!”

I watch them, a pang of warmth and worry settling in my chest. My grandma is so good with Millie, and we’ve always been a unit. I wish she’d reconsider staying here alone.

“Gram,” I start gently, “have you given any more thought to moving back home? We miss you, and you’re doing so wellnow! You’ve recovered and if you have any issues, I’m a physical therapist. I can handle it!”

She waves me off with a chuckle. “Oh, Stacey, you worry too much. This place is just right for me, and you know it.”

I sigh, leaning back slightly. “I hate the thought of you here without us.”

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