Page 3 of Over the Verdant Hills
In her opinion, people just got older, and they couldn’t look like they were eighteen forever. They started to look like adults, then middle-aged adults, and then… Who knew what was going to happen after that.
Regardless, he was completely uninterested in anything she deemed important. Obviously, since he felt the shape she was in was more important than the character he had.
“It’s so good to have you here. I get lonely sometimes,” Grandma said, smiling at her and then putting her hand on Dan’s head, although she couldn’t reach Lana, who had moved away from her and looked at her like she might look at a snake trying to come out of a hole.
Claire wanted to say something to Lana, to make her be more respectful to her great-grandmother, but she’d probably already pushed the envelope by making them hug her. Eventually they would love her grandma just like she did. Although, come to think of it, she didn’treally appreciate her grandma like she should have until after she moved away and lived without her for a while.
“When we’ve been here a while, you’ll probably wish for the good old days when you didn’t have a crowd of people running in and out.”
Grandma laughed and patted her hand. “I don’t think so. This old house needs a breath of fresh air, like you and your children can provide. I’m grateful you’re bringing it. Now, should we start on something to eat, or should we go get beds ready?”
“How about you just tell me where the linens are, and I’ll get the beds ready myself with my kids’ help,” she said, emphasizing the last part as she eyed her two children. They weren’t going to get waited on hand and foot here, and they might as well accept that now. They’d had a housekeeper in their old house back in Boston, and her kids had grown up doing less than she wanted them to. She’d just gotten tired of the constant fight, because not only did she have to fight her children, she’d had to fight her husband and the housekeeper as well. Not to mention, her husband’s parents didn’t think the children should have to lift a finger to do anything more strenuous than turn the TV channel.
“I want to go outside and play,” Dan said, and it was so close to back talk that Claire hesitated before she said, “You may, as soon as you have your bed ready for the evening.”
“You could also gather the eggs for the day if you want to. I haven’t done that yet.”
“Gather eggs?” Dan said, wrinkling his nose up, like he wasn’t quite sure whether it was something he was interested in or a job he wanted to avoid.
“Real eggs?” Lana said. “That come from real chickens?”
“The very same,” Grandma said, smiling benevolently at Lana, despite the fact that she hadn’t been the nicest. That was the thing about grandmothers—they loved you no matter what. At least, that was the way it was in Claire’s experience. Maybe that wasn’t the way everyone had it, but everyone should have someone who loved them without them having to be the right size, or the right age, or the right anything. Just the way they were.
That’s the kind of grandmother she wanted to be. Of course, at therate her kids were going, they weren’t going to be talking to her by the time they had children.
She didn’t want to think about that either. Too many families she knew had children who weren’t talking to their parents, and she didn’t really understand why. But it seemed like an epidemic.
“Can we do the eggs first?” Dan asked.
“We’re going to get beds ready first. Then we’ll do the eggs, because we need those for supper, along with the bread.”
“Does making bread take a long time?” Lana said, and she didn’t sound like she wanted to wait a long time for supper.
“We’ll have supper today, so it doesn’t take that long,” Claire said, sidestepping the question of exactly how long it might take. She’d benefited from eating the bread her grandmother had made multiple times over the years, but she’d never helped her make it.
She didn’t know why not.
Well, maybe because she was so busy being outside running around that she didn’t have time to come in and help. Maybe she should just let her kids run around wild. It would probably be good for them.
“I have linens in the closet at the top of the steps, and there are beds in three of the six bedrooms.”
“Good, because I have two beds coming. I hope that’s okay.”
“It certainly is. We talked about it, didn’t we?” Grandma furrowed her brows as though she were trying to remember.
Was Grandma losing it?
Claire’s heart shivered. That was the last thing she needed. She’d wanted to come back here and be grounded, to rest and recover and figure out the rest of her life, not be scared every day wondering whether her grandma was going to recognize her or not. Her grandma was supposed to be a rock in her life, the anchor that grounded her, not another rock that could sink her.
But she supposed she couldn’t change that any more than she could change a myriad of other things she’d like to change. Whatever happened, she’d have to accept it and be okay with it.
“All right, thanks, Grandma,” she said as she started toward the stairs.
“I’ll get started on that bread. And when you guys are done with thebeds, I should be in a good place where we can go out and meet the chickens.”
Her kids grunted as they started to ascend the stairs behind her.
Claire dug in the linen closet for the sheets and blankets her grandma had talked about.
