Page 42 of An Introvert's Guide to Life and Love
“Good?” I ask. The veggies came out a bit, well, mushier than I’d expected, and the pasta looks a tad bloated and overcooked.
“Mm,” he repeats. “Tasty.”
Something in his tone makes me think he’s just being polite. I take a bite. It’s… not the best. Gramps beckons wordlessly for more Parmesan.
“Anyway,” he says, after another brave mouthful. “It’s not necessary.”
“Maybe not.” I sip my iced tea with lemon. “But I think it would help, and that’s what I’m trying to do. Help you.”
“Why?”
I squint at him. “Because you’re my grandpa?”
“Exactly. Children shouldn’t have to care for their parents. Grandchildren especially shouldn’t have to care for their grandparents.”
“Well, sometimes that’s life.” I swallow a bite, and then add, “People care for their elders. It happens.”
A look of incredulity and amusement flashes across his face. “Elders? I’m not blithering and blathering, you know. I can still recite the periodic tableandfifty digits of pi.”
“I never said you were blathering.”
“So why? Why are you so insistent on helping me?” He doesn’t use air quotes, but he might as well have.
“Because…” I take a deep breath. I’ll just tell him. No one ever told me it was supposed to be a secret. “Because Lottie wanted me to.”
He stares.
“Lottie? Did she tell you this?”
“Not directly, but it was in her will, I guess. The part where she left Pebble Cottage to me. She also said I should look after you.”
“But why? Why did she think I needed looking after?” Gramps sets down his spoon, his light-blue eyes crinkling with confusion.
“I don’t know exactly,” I say slowly, “but I think she didn’t want you to be alone.”
At this, he sits heavily back in his chair and turns his head to gaze out at the gulf. The sky blazes bright and blue and the sea glimmers, not a wave in sight.
“Of course.” He laughs gently. “Of course she would tell you to look after me. She always took care of me. She was so good at it.”
He looks down at his bowl of half-eaten soup.
I’m trying, I want to say.I know I can’t cook the way she did, but I’m trying to take care of you the way she would have wanted.
“Yeah,” I say instead. “So would you visit this Dr. Mellors just once? For me? And for Lottie?”
He shrugs as though, suddenly, it’s all the same to him. “Fine. Of course, you’ll have to drive me.”
I manage to get him an appointment the very next day. Dr. Mellors had a cancellation, and she said she’d been keeping an eye out for an email from me.
After lunch, I drive Gramps to a quaint, one-story office building halfway to Reina Beach. It’s right off Gulf Boulevard, and it has three round rhododendron bushes in front. I park and unbuckle my seat belt, but Gramps gives me a look.
“I do know how to check myself in for an appointment.”
I pause awkwardly, holding my seat belt with one hand. “So you don’t want me to come in?”
“I don’t think so.” He climbs out of his car, then ducks his head back down to add, “I would, however, like a ride home. Please.”
“Of course I’ll give you a ride home. I’ll find somewhere to work and I’ll be back in an hour.”
