Page 24 of Somebody to Save
Grams gave me a sassy, agreeable look over her shoulder as she stirred the soup on the stove, and I readjusted on the kitchen counter where I sat. The little house I’d grown up in wasn’t much—it was a cute yellow house in the middle of the suburbs that contained most of the original fixtures and features. The cabinets in the kitchen were still dark brown, and the carpet was worn. And the stairs creaked every time someone stepped too hard.
But it was home. And it had kept me safe during the worst years of my life. As had the women who lived in it.
“It’s not a problem, Nana,” I hollered back, and Grams spun quickly—as quickly as she could—with the spoon in her hand, which she pointed at me accusingly.
“Don’t minimize it, Addie Wren. You are our lifesaver, act like it.”
Years of experience taught me that rolling my eyes would’veresulted in a verbal beatdown I was not prepared for, so I suppressed the urge and nodded instead.
“Of course, Grams, but I promise, it’s not a big deal. I will figure it out. The nurse will be back four days a week. We just might have to take an additional trip to see Dr. Finnegan soon.”
I heard Nana’s groan all the way in the kitchen and knew for certainshewas rolling her eyes. She would rather never go back to the doctor if it were her choice. And it made sense with how much time she’d spent in the hospital and doctor’s offices the past few months.
“She’ll go, and she’ll be fine,” Grams agreed. Her hair that was once as black as night was now more gray than anything else but was just as thick and healthy as ever. However, she only wore it pulled back, especially since she spent most of her time in her kitchen. Where she honestly preferred to spend her time, cooking anything and everything for her neighbors or friends. That’s how she filled her time since she retired from teaching at the university.
She was the epitome of warmth and determination, proven by the beautiful lines around her eyes and mouth.
“I may not walk very well anymore, but my hearing is fine,” Nana said, and I slapped my hand over my mouth to suppress my laughter.
They were so in love yet annoyed the crap out of each other all the same. Just like any normal married couple.
Nana was also long retired. She’d been a photographer, but when she couldn’t move around any longer, she was forced to give up her passion. We still displayed all her photos, though. As I would forever. Their entire home was lined with her art, and it was hanging in my apartment, as it was in so many other homes and businesses.
I heard the motor of her recliner and prepared to jump off the counter to help her. But Grams waved me off.
She dropped her voice to a whisper and shook her head. “Let her try.”
It went against my gut to let Nana suffer through getting up and moving elsewhere in their house, but with the nurse dropping to only a few days a week, we had to do something.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t be there as much as I wanted to be.
An entire minute later, Nana shuffled around the corner, holding onto her walker and watching her feet. Her short hair had turned more white in the past few months, and I swore the time in the hospital had aged her another decade. But she was still beautiful and sassy.
She was still my Nana.
“But that’s enough about us,” Nana said, heading toward the wood table on the other side of the kitchen. I held my breath and watched her intently as she slowly lowered herself into one of the chairs, waiting to see if I needed to hop off the counter at a moment’s notice. She plopped into the chair and looked back over at us. Grams had been watching her, too. “Tell us about you, Addie Wren. We can’t be the most interesting part of your life.”
Shaking my head, I sipped my lemonade and tried not to think about the unanswered message that was taunting me. Beckett had texted me to confirm plans for our date tomorrow, and I was nervous to respond.
Probably because I wanted to so bad. And I wanted it to work so bad.
“I think you are both very interesting.”
Both of them stuck me with unimpressed looks, and I sighed.
“You are twenty-three years old, please tell me you are not spending all your time working and taking care of us old women,” Grams said. She wiped her hands on her apron and pulled a gallon of milk from the fridge before returning to the stove.
“We live vicariously through you now,” Nana argued. “So, tell us the hot gos.”
Lemonade nearly spewed out of my nose, and I had to cough to make sure I didn’t choke.
“Hot gos? Nana, where the heck did you learn that?”
She shrugged and fidgeted with the yellow placemat in front of her. “Well, I’m stuck in that dang chair most of the day, and I’ve already read every book we have, so I had to turn on the TV. I’ve picked up a few things.”
I could feel my face growing red from laughing, and I held my stomach as I doubled over.
“Helen, you are eighty,” Grams scolded. “Act like it.”
