Chapter 4
Penelope
Planters filled with orange and yellow mums decorated the walkway outside Tilikum Gardens Village.
Although the automatic doors weren’t exactly homey, the rest of the lobby was.
Overstuffed armchairs sat near a window by the check-in desk, and there were garlands of autumn leaves and mini pumpkins everywhere.
I stopped to sign in at the front desk and said hi to Sarah, the attendant.
The entrance lobby opened to a cozy living area with a double-sided gas fireplace in the center of the room.
Several residents sat on the couches or chairs, reading or chatting with each other, and a man in a wheelchair thumbed through a magazine. They looked up as I walked by.
“Good morning,” I said with a smile.
There was a chorus of, “Good morning, Penelope!”
“I think Colleen is outside,” one of the ladies said.
“I’ll look there first. Thank you.”
Colleen Wilson, my grandmother on my mom’s side, was born and raised in Tilikum.
She’d chosen to move into the assisted living facility about five years ago.
She had her own apartment and was still able to do some things independently, but back and hip injuries, coupled with other elements of age, had left her in a wheelchair.
Fortunately, Tilikum Gardens Village was a nice place, and she was thrilled to have someone else cook for her every night.
I visited her every week or two, usually on weekends.
She wasn’t the only family I had, strictly speaking.
I didn’t have any siblings, and my parents had divorced when I was ten.
My dad had been distant from that point on.
He’d remarried and moved around a lot, and hadn’t seemed particularly interested in making me a part of anything.
My mom had eventually remarried as well, and after I graduated from high school, she and my stepdad had moved to Ohio to be closer to his family.
That had left me and Grandma Colleen. It was why I’d been so adamant about moving back to the area after college and worked so hard to get hired at Tilikum High School—so I could live and work as close to her as possible.
I walked past the fireplace into another sitting area with tables. Two men sat at a table, deeply embroiled in a game of chess, and another resident worked on a puzzle. A few magazines and newspapers were set out, a show played on a mounted TV, and a console table held coffee, tea, and water.
Another set of automatic doors led to a large patio. More yellow and orange mums spilled out of pots next to benches. A path wound through the lawn and large trees bent their branches over the yard, offering shade.
Grandma sat in her wheelchair just past the first bend in the path. She kept her pure white hair long, tied at the nape of her neck, and she’d wrapped a lavender knit shawl around her shoulders.
Before I could say a word, she held up a hand, palm out. I stopped, my lips parted.
Leaning down, she tossed something onto the grass. A moment later, a gray squirrel approached.
“There you go, little one,” she said.
A few more squirrels appeared, scampering over happily to devour the snacks. She sat back and maneuvered her wheelchair so she was facing me. Her warm smile lit up her face.
“Penny,” she said, wheeling herself closer. “How’s my darling girl?”
“Hi, Grandma.” I leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m well. How are you?”
“It’s a beautiful day, and Spritz over there finally decided to come check me out.”
“Spritz?”
She gestured to the squirrels still picking up treats from the grass. “He’s just a baby. Wasn’t so sure about me for a while. But I got him. I always do.”
Tilikum had a love-hate relationship with the squirrel population. They were known thieves and could be quite a nuisance. But Grandma adored them. She’d been making friends with the squirrels for as long as I could remember.
“He’s very cute. Do you know it’s a he?”
She shrugged. “No, but I don’t think he cares if I get it wrong.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t,” I said with a laugh. “So, what do you want to do today? Do you need more treats for your squirrel friends?”
“Those greedy little things have had quite enough. Until tomorrow, at least. How about you get us some tea and we have a sit?”
“Outside or inside?”
She took a deep breath of the crisp air. “Outside, as long as you’re warm enough.”
I’d worn a plaid shirt-jacket over a long-sleeve shirt and jeans. Even with a slight chill in the air, I’d be comfortable. “Outside is great. Let’s do that while we can, before winter sets in.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
I went inside and poured hot water over tea bags I dropped into two white ceramic mugs at the coffee and tea station.
Hanging on the wall above it was an oil painting portraying an old barn in a field with a river in the distance.
It had been donated by the artist—Edwin Morris.
He was a local, and you could find his paintings in various places throughout the central Cascades.
The painting brought a little smile to my face as I stirred a teaspoon of sugar into Grandma’s tea.
I’d taken one of Edwin Morris’s painting classes the previous summer and had learned a lot.
Seeing his art made me feel a bit like I knew a celebrity.
Not a real celebrity, of course. Hardly anyone outside the art world knew who he was.
But he was something of a mentor to me, and I was hoping to take another class next summer.
With the tea bags steeping, I took our mugs outside. Grandma had wheeled herself up to a patio table and I set her tea down before taking a seat.
Tilting her head, she took a long look at my hand wrapped around the warm mug. “Still no ring?”
With a sigh, I let go of the mug and spread my fingers wide. “Obviously not. I would have told you if he’d proposed.”
She brought her mug to her lips. “Mm-hmm.”
“And what would you say if there was a ring on my finger?” I asked, my tone skeptical.
“I’d say I was happy for you.”
“Really?”
“Of course. If that’s what you want, it’s what I want for you.”
It was no secret Grandma wasn’t Sean’s biggest fan. She’d liked him fine when we’d started dating. But as time had gone on, her approval had diminished. Considerably.
“But…” she said, trailing off.
“But, what?”
“Do you really want to know what an old woman has to say about it?”
I wasn’t sure if I did, but I knew she’d tell me whether I wanted to hear it or not. “I want to know what you have to say about it. Old doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but Janine, one of the facility’s caregivers, came out through the automatic doors. She was a sweet lady in her fifties, dressed in a polo with the facility logo on the front.
“There you are, Colleen.” There was a hint of something in her voice. Concern, maybe? Or possibly irritation.
Uh-oh.
“Oh hello, Janine,” Grandma said, and by her tone, I could tell she was trying to sound innocent.
What was she up to this time?
“Do you know what happened to Maury’s reading glasses?” Janine asked.
Grandma clicked her tongue as she shook her head. “Can’t say that I do.”
“So, you didn’t take them when he put them down at breakfast this morning and hide them? Again?”
She gasped. “I would never.”
“You’ve done it three times, Colleen.”
I could see Grandma pressing her lips together, trying not to smile.
“If Maury is so worried about his glasses, he ought to keep better track of them.” She took a sip of her tea.
The doors opened again, and Maury Haven wheeled himself through. He was completely bald with a bristly gray beard and deep wrinkles, especially on his forehead and around his eyes.
“Colleen, what did you do with my glasses?”
“Hello, Maury,” Grandma said. “Lovely day we’re having, isn’t it?”
His lined forehead creased even more, and his voice was rough and gravelly. “Don’t give me that lovely day bullshit. Where’d you hide my glasses this time?”
Grandma let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t see how it’s my problem if you can’t figure out the clue I left.”
“Clue?” he barked. “What clue? I didn’t see a clue!”
“That’s because you weren’t looking.”
“Colleen, just tell him where you put his glasses,” Janine said.
I bit the inside of my lip. Part of me felt like I ought to help coax Grandma into revealing where she’d put Maury’s glasses. And part of me wanted to laugh because those two had been pranking each other for years. All because Maury was a Haven.
He was probably related to Theo, although I wasn’t sure how. Maybe a great-uncle or something. There were a lot of Havens in Tilikum. Back in the day, there’d been a generations-long feud between the Haven and Bailey families. My grandma had been on the Bailey side.
Maury and Grandma didn’t seem to realize that the feud was over. Or maybe they just didn’t care. I wasn’t sure who’d started it, but there’d been a regular back-and-forth between them ever since Grandma had moved in.
And despite Maury’s surly expression, I knew he dished it out just as much as she did.
With a growl, Maury turned his wheelchair around. “Don’t let them touch my table. There’s a clue somewhere.”
Janine sighed and followed Maury back inside. “What clue did you leave?” I asked.
“A pencil.”
“How is a pencil a clue?”
“Isn’t it obvious? There’s a cup of pencils on the game cabinet.” She giggled softly, as if it were quite the joke. “I hid his glasses in one of the cupboards and put the pencil right where he left his glasses sitting out.”
“I suppose that’s a decent clue. He’ll find them.”
“Oh, of course he will.” She waved her hand in the direction he’d gone. “He’s a Haven, but he’s not an idiot.”
“I know we’ve had this conversation before, but you know the feud ended, right? The other Baileys and Havens stopped pranking each other. Mostly. I guess they still do it for fun sometimes.”
“Why on earth do you think I do it? Somebody has to. Besides, that crotchety old man loves it. Gives him something to look forward to.”