Page 103 of Totally Shipped
Meemaw gives a sad smile and nods. “And you love her too?”
“I do.”
“Now, I don’t pretend to understand how y’all are fixin’ to make this work, but I trust you both, and I know you’ll do right, but Gray…”
She coughs and closes her eyes for a while.
“Shall I get the nurse?”
Without opening her eyes she tuts. “Impatient like ever! Just give me a minute.”
Eventually Meemaw looks at me again. “Daisy . . .he showed me a photo of her. She’s lovely.”
“Do you want to meet her?” I ask. I figure the old lady wants reassurance about her grandson’s future.
“No, no need. It’s something . . .” She meets my eyes, and I see how troubled she looks.
“What’s going on, Meemaw?”
Shaking her head, a tear trails down her frail crepey cheek. “Brandi is so good with the internets,” she says in a non-sequitur.
Brandi? Her neighbor?
“I’m a little lost,” I say as gently as I can.
Whatever is bothering Meemaw, I want to help. I’ll do whatever I can to give her peace of mind.
The black pinpricks of her pupils in her tired brown eyes draw me closer.
“Rex is my world,” she murmurs. “Both you boys.”
I feel tears in my own eyes.
Meemaw falls asleep again. I just hold her hand. Maybe the idea that both Rex and I love the same woman is too much for her to comprehend. I’m not sure how to give her peace.
After an hour she wakes and looks up at me. Despite everything, she still has that Meemaw spark. The one which would have us dancing to Stevie Wonder (her favorite) while she made us after school snacks. The sparkle that had us constructing pillow forts and pulling out old VHS tapes for Saturday movie nights.
“Can you listen to me carefully, Gray?” she asks. “I don’t have much time left, and I don’t think I can make decisions and be confident about them any more.”
“Of course, Meemaw. Whatever you need.”
She beckons me closer. “I need you to do whatever you think is best,” she whispers.
When Meemaw whispers her secret to me, I nearly have a heart attack on the spot. Everything changes in that second.
“Rex’s birth-momma, she saw Rex was missing on the news.”
“What do you mean, Meemaw?”
“Does Rexie ever talk about his mama?” she asks, instead of answering my question.
“Not really. I mean, he’s told me that she walked out when he was a few weeks old. But we don’t talk about her—it hurts him too much I think.”
“That’s what I thought. Such a pretty girl, but not so bright. And Thomas was no help—he frightened the girl, I think. All his shouting.” I squeeze Meemaw's hand. “The day she left was a Monday. Rex was ten weeks old. She told me she was going to the store. I gave her money to get some formula and groceries. She took Pop's car. Left and never came back.”
“And you went to the police?”
“No Sir! I know better than that. I knew she was in the wind. She was welcome to our car and our money, because she’d left us with the best gift of our lives.”
