Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Maple
“Good morning, sunshine.”
The whisper comes right before a kiss to my forehead. I blink my eyes open to see Holt fully dressed and crouched over me awkwardly as I sleep on the floor. I didn’t even feel him getting up. The summer sun has yet to splash inside the windows of the cabin, so it must still be early.
“Leaving?” I croak.
“I’ve got an early day, but I’ll come find you after your appointment with Doctor Ahmed, okay? Everything’s going to go great.”
My eyes fly open with the reminder. Today’s the day we find out the results of Grandma Gracie’s brain scan. Holt sweeps wayward strands of hair off my face with a gentle finger.
“Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together, okay?”
The fear in my chest subsides in the warm embrace of his reassurance. I reach my arms up and wrap them around his neck. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he says into my neck. We stay that way for a full minute, each of us taking and giving comfort in equal measure. I’m not sure how this happened, but I’m so grateful I can’t put it into words. Other than Grandma, I’ve waited my whole life to find someone who makes me feel like they see me fully and actually like what they see.
Holt turns his head to kiss my neck and then he’s rising to his feet. “I’ll see you soon, moonbeam.”
“Yes, you will,” I answer on a yawn.
I hope he’ll be seeing me every day for the rest of my life. I hear the door close softly and the click of Mookie’s nails as she gets off her doggie bed and heads my way. She curls into my chest as I rub her belly.
As great as the last few weeks have been with Holt, I’m still worried about Grandma Gracie’s condition and whether Harold will ever reach out. After reading Grandma’s diary, I was so certain he’d be beating down our door to see Gracie. Each day without a call from him, I lose a little bit of hope. If anything, it makes me even more aware of the precious time I have with Holt. I don’t want us to become a story of heartbreak told in a dusty journal.
When the first hint of light comes through the windows, I extricate myself from Mookie and stand up to stretch with a few sun salutations. Once I feel limber, I get dressed and head for the kitchen for some fruit. I can’t eat much on a nervous stomach. What will we do if the scan comes back that her dementia has rapidly advanced? How long will she still remember who I am? That last thought hits me so hard I have to grab the kitchen counter and focus on deep breathing.
“Nope. Positive thoughts only. I live in the moment, and right now, Grandma is perfectly fine. Maybe a little forgetful, but otherwise just fine.”
Yes, I’m talking out loud in an empty cabin. Mookie dances around my feet, probably thinking I’m talking to her. After giving her some more love and making sure she’s fed and had a chance to do her business outside, I head for Sunny Shores in my pale pink Fiat. She’s tiny and electric and exactly what my parents would not have chosen for me. Holt’s Jeep is more practical out here, but I still love my unconventional vehicle.
I knock on Grandma’s door and put in the code to let myself in. “Grandma? It’s Maple! Are you dressed?”
She appears around the corner, already in a pair of flowing linen pants and a blouse with brightly colored parrots on it. As always, she smiles when she sees me, waving me inside. Her eyebrows look like she got ahold of the same paint football players use when they smudge black lines under their eyes before a game. I shake my head and choose to not fight that battle today. Eyebrow blindness is a real thing amongst the elderly too, but we have bigger fish to fry today.
“This damn toaster burnt my buns!” she exclaims as soon as I join her in the kitchen.
It’s true. Two once-fluffy rolls are smoking in the toaster, black as her eyebrows. I grab a paper towel and pluck them both out, tossing them into her sink to keep from starting a fire.
“You’ve got the little dial here turned up all the way.” I point to the dial and then twist it back halfway like she likes her toast.
“I bet Nancy did that. She loves her toast charcoaly,” Grandma grouses.
I don’t know why Nancy would be using Grandma’s toaster when she has her own just a few yards away, but I keep that to myself.
“Let me make you some toast. Doctor Ahmed should be here shortly.”
Grandma has a seat at the small kitchenette table and sips her coffee while keeping up a steady stream of chatter about what’s going on at Sunny Shores. The gossip is downright scary, let me tell you. These old people have too much time on their hands.
She’s just finishing her perfectly toasted buns when a knock sounds on the door. I get up to let the doctor in and we all get settled at the table. He spends a few minutes chatting with Grandma, which I think shows excellent bedside manner, but then gets down to business, which I also appreciate. My nerves can’t take it much longer.
“Your scans are in, Gracie, and they look good,” he booms. I let out a silent breath of relief. “Only showed a hint of damage to one very small area. Clinically, this would put you at the very first stage of dementia.”
“So, we’re not out of the woods,” I clarify.
“We’re at the goddamn lake, Maple. No woods anywhere to be found.” Grandma’s eyes are sparkling with humor.
I give her a deadpan look and she motions that she’s zipping her lips. God, I love this quirky, fun-loving woman.
Doctor Ahmed doesn’t miss a beat. “This means we have several options for treatment, all of which come with high efficacy. I’d like to discuss some of those options today and get started immediately. We’ll monitor closely for side effects and mental acuity to make sure we’re on the right path.”
Grandma hoots. “Give me the drugs, Doc!”
I put my hand out, not ready to jump right into solutions when I still had doubts about her mental faculties. “Wait a second. I have a question first. Grandma still doesn’t remember Holt. Shouldn’t she remember him if she’s just in the very early stages?”
Doctor Ahmed is looking at Grandma. One thick dark eyebrow climbs his forehead. When he doesn’t answer, I look to Grandma. She’s got her lips pursed and is suddenly very interested in the pattern on her coffee mug. The doctor clears his throat, and Grandma’s gaze snaps back up.
“Okay, fine. The jig is up,” Grandma announces, sounding more lucid than she’s been all summer. She turns to me, love and apology in her eyes. “I know who Holt is. He’s been my physical therapist for several years now. I rent my cabin to him, for goodness’ sake!”
My jaw drops in shock. “Then why did you tell me you thought he was my fiancé?”
The doctor clears his throat again and stands up. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have another appointment I need to get to while you two sort this out. Can I swing by tomorrow during rounds to discuss treatment plans, Gracie?”
“Absolutely, Doctor. Thank you for all you’re doing.” Gracie gives him a regal head nod. He shakes my bewildered hand and lets himself out.
“I think it’s still Hawaiian week at the pool. Wanna come?” Grandma looks like she’s ready to spring from her chair and walk away from this conversation.
I fold my arms across my chest, feeling quite foolish for pretending for weeks on end now. “Grandma.”
She must hear my tone because her face falls and she eases back in the chair, meeting my gaze. “Oh, darling. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward, but I had to do it.”
“What? Why?” I don’t understand what would make her fake memory loss.
Grandma reaches out, her gnarled, weathered hand covering mine on the tabletop. She sweeps her thumb across my hand, giving me comfort like she always did when I was growing up.
“You have to understand. When the old doctor mentioned that he thought I was dealing with dementia, I got scared.”
My fingers squeeze her hand gently, the guilt hitting for not being here for her back then. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to help you.”
“No, darling. You misunderstand. I was scared for you .” At my confused expression, she carries on. “I see myself in you in so many ways. Always have. I also see how your parents and brother treat you, Maple. I refuse to leave this earth, either bodily or mentally, until I know you have your person in your life. Someone who will see you as I see you: perfect in every way. I need to see you happy and settled before I go, darling.”
Tears burn my eyes. I can’t seem to swallow past the lump in my throat. “Oh, Grandma.”
“Now, I know matchmaking isn’t the nicest thing, but at the rate you were going, I didn’t know if I had that much time! After you and Dexter broke up, you just wallowed. I had to pull you out of that bullshit, clean you off, and let you shine again. I knew you could only do that here in Anchor Lake. This place is magical.”
My heart aches, knowing Grandma loves me so well. How can she be everything to me and yet my own parents are so cold and oblivious? I don’t even question how she knew about Dexter and our breakup. This woman’s mind is far sharper than I ever gave her credit for.
“I’ve grown a lot since coming back here,” I admit.
“This town is where you belong, girl.”
My lips tip up in a smile, thinking about all the memories I’ve made here in Anchor Lake. Grandma’s not wrong: I’ve always felt like this was home.
“And I know Holt well. Wouldn’t have rented my cabin to him if I didn’t trust him explicitly. He’s a good man, Maple.”
That made me smile from ear to ear despite the tears still brimming in my eyes. “I know. I’m in love with him, so I guess your matchmaking worked.”
Grandma looks elated. “I’m glad to hear it. But make no mistake, it’s not Holt saving you. Or me pulling strings in the background that’s made you find your happiness. No, you finally trusted yourself, came home, and found your soulmate.”
I nod, reveling in the feeling of a family member being proud of me for once. “Yeah, I think I have.”
There’s a knock on the door, and for a second, I think it must be the doctor coming back. Grandma looks up. “Must be Nancy and Pat. They’re probably going to tell me I need to get lei’d .” She cackles at her joke.
I stand up, bend down, and kiss her cheek, then head for the door. I swing it open, shocked to find Holt and his grandfather standing on the doorstep. Harold is in a suit and tie that hangs on his thin, tall frame, his hair perfectly combed and a bouquet of dogwood flowers in his hands.
“Surprise!” Holt says.
All the thoughts about myself and my journey evaporate in a split second. I’m so happy I could burst.
Hank has come to see his Gracie Mae.
Maple’s Journal
(18 months ago)
“I’m just saying, if you start now, you can still have a long and wonderful career in healthcare. Or in law! Whatever you lean toward, though I think healthcare is more your speed. I think the other lawyers might chew you up and spit you out on day one.”
Mom’s voice droned on, oblivious to the fact I hadn’t said anything in the last five minutes. Or maybe she wasn’t oblivious and she just didn’t care. I wasn’t sure which, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“You’re a single woman in a man’s world, Maple. Not that Dexter allayed my fears about being able to provide for you, but you have to admit, being on your own and the only skills you have are talking to dogs…well, it’s just not good. What’s your five-year plan? Do you know?”
I grunted, which seemed to be answer enough for her.
“You don’t. You have no direction and no one to support you through this…phase…of yours.”
This phase she was referring to was meant to encompass my entire life. I’d never gone along with their plans for me willingly. Normally I’d stand firm and simply disengage as much as possible, but she was catching me on a low day. I happened to walk past the old yoga studio yesterday on my way to an in-person work appointment and saw Sabrina through the thick glass window, teaching the class I used to teach. I’d been replaced so easily. Just swapped for a younger, prettier version. The life that I’d planned for myself with teaching yoga and Dexter as my husband was just…gone.
And during the last six months I’d replaced that plan with nothing. I worked, I slept, I got groceries when I remembered, and I rotted. I cocooned myself inside my new condo and yearned for nothing anymore. That fire in my chest, the one that I’d held on to so tightly while fighting off the plans my parents made for me was simply gone.
“I’ll think about it, Mom,” I heard myself say.
“Great. I’ll send you the information on signing up for medical school. I know it’s expensive but your dad and I will help you out. Talk soon, sweetie.”
She hung up, certain I’d follow her plan.
I sat back and spun in my office chair. My condo was nice enough. The air was a little stale, but that was due to the aforementioned rotting. Once I got my feet under me, I’d get out more. Find my spark again. Except it had been six months and I hadn’t yet.
Could Mom and Dad’s plan be what I should have been doing all along?
They didn’t look particularly happy, but they weren’t heartbroken and single and pathetic like me either. They were doing things that made a difference in the world. I was talking to dogs about not peeing on their owners’ shoes.
My laptop pinged with an incoming email. I stopped the spinning of my chair and stared at the email from Mom. With a deep breath that felt like shards of glass in my lungs, I clicked on it.