Chapter 41
School is buzzing with the news about the principal.
Word spreads quickly through a town our size, so nothing about this surprises me.
It’s like the game of telephone where it starts as the truth but quickly devolves into half-truths and then plain ol’ lies.
My lips, on the other hand, have stayed zipped.
Yes, it was Tyler who laid the evidence out for the school board, but I don’t want anyone thinking I had a hand in it, if I can help it.
As grateful as I am for Tyler’s help there, I’m well liked among my co-workers, and it only takes one wrong person and this could backfire on me.
Plus, I have bigger things to worry about.
With my program’s funding cleared, I now have to start the process for town approval of the mural project.
Filled to the brim with ideas, I use every second of my planning period mapping out good locations for our first mural.
I want it front and center, where everyone who passes can’t help but stare out their window at it.
Right as the bell rings for seventh period, my phone lights up with a text.
Tyler
Mind if I come by this evening?
Pausing, I breathe out a sigh of relief. Spending the evening with him would be nice. I need it, but more importantly, my kids need it. They’ve missed him terribly, and after days of wallowing in my destructive behavior, I can see Abby and Jay deserve better from their mother.
Come on over.
Tyler
Need me to get the kids? I’m not in town right now, but I will be by the time school lets out.
Sure. I’d appreciate that. I’ll let Jay’s teacher know to be looking for you.
Since you’re getting them, mind if I run to visit Mawmaw?
Tyler
Jo. Of course not. Take all the time you need.
With my plans changed, I’m looking forward to my visit with Mawmaw. Yesterday I had to skip so I’d make it to the board meeting in time.
As soon as my work day is over, I’m out the door, grabbing my messenger bag and purse.
I flip off the lights to my classroom and head to my car.
It’s a dreary gray day, one where the rain comes down in a fine mist, somehow still soaking you to the bone.
Sliding open my umbrella I dash across the parking lot, unlocking my doors on the way.
When I pull up to Morningside, a surge of hopeful optimism washes over me, and I know today will be one of her good days. I climb from my car and practically skip up the walkway and through the double glass doors.
At the reception desk, I sign in and head to Mawmaw’s unit, tapping lightly on the door. Leaning in, I press an ear to the wood to listen for movement.
“Come in,” comes her frail response.
Turning the knob, I push open the door and slip inside. Mawmaw’s face lights up and she holds out a hand for me to join her in front of the window.
“Josephine, to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you today, my sweet girl?”
My heart balloons inside my chest hearing my name come from her lips.
I take a seat next to her and begin telling about the board meeting and what all went down with the principal.
Mawmaw’s mouth twists like she smells something sour when his name comes up.
She knew how badly he hurt me in high school, and has never liked him since.
Our conversation comes to a pause, and Mawmaw tilts her head, studying me with an assessing gaze.
“Something’s different about you.”
My hand goes to smooth my hair, which I’ve left curly since the day of the ballgame. Mawmaw always loved it curly, too, but being the rebellious teen I was, I fried my hair with my flat iron every single day.
“No, not your appearance,” Mawmaw pauses. “You seem lighter today. Lit up from within.” She gives me a once over. “Last week you had a bee in your bonnet. I saw it the second you stepped in my room. So, tell me, what about today is different?”
I grin at her observation. My grandmother has always been able to read me like a book. She could see when I was happy and predict when my nasty temper might flare.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with that handsome gentleman who helped get me home from the hospital a couple weeks back, now would it?”
My jaw drops, eyebrows cinched. She seemed lost in her own world that day, so how does she remember Tyler driving us home? I do recall a moment of awareness, but she didn’t seem to notice Tyler. At least I thought she didn’t.
Mawmaw taps her temple. “Josephine, my brain might be addled, but I saw how he looked at you.” I’m still speechless, so she goes on. “Does Abby know yet?”
Now my words are propelled into action. “How—” I stammer. “How did you know?”
Mawmaw chuckles and takes my hand in hers. “It’s clear as day. If you haven’t told that daughter of yours, you better get to it soon. She’s smart, observant. I wouldn’t be surprised if she hasn’t already figured it out.”
“Soon, Mawmaw,” I promise. “Soon.”
Mawmaw eyes me, warily. “He makes you happy, but you’re scared. Am I correct? You’ve always been scared of happiness.”
Slowly I nod. “Terrified. Last week was”—I blow out a breath—“not my best week. I did everything in my power to push him away. It feels too good to be true. He shows up, day after day. He’s quiet, steady, and never asks anything in return.”
Mawmaw nods and pats my hand. “And he’ll continue as long as you let him.”
Swallowing hard, I ask, “How do you know? After what happened with Chad—you know that wrecked me.”
Mawmaw falls silent, her eyes going hazy, and I fear she’s retreating back into memories of the past. But then she speaks again.
“Josephine. Anyone with eyes could see Chad wasn’t right for you. You wanted a way out.”
“No—” I begin, but she pats my hand to stop me.
“Yes, dear, you did. You were living with your grandfather and me, and you wanted out. I know being raised by your grandparents always made you feel different. Then you had Abby, and you wanted to create a family of your own. Chad was your way out. Also,” she adds, a twinkle in her eye, “I might have gotten nosy a time or two. I know about the letters in that shoebox. Abby’s father is the only man who would ever be right for you.
Whatever happened between you and him, well, that’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing. ”
All these years I convinced myself I imagined it. That I made that night out to be bigger than it was. But Mawmaw saw it, too. She was able to read some letters in a shoebox and see it.
My chin starts to wobble, bitterness lacing my next words. “And my father? He left. Didn’t even stick around till I was born. He never even gave me a chance to prove I was worth raising.”
Mawmaw’s eyes soften sympathetically. “Oh, my sweet, sweet Josephine. Your mother’s choices are not a reflection on you. Surely you know this. She’s my daughter, and I love her, but we both know her taste in men leaves something to be desired. That man leaving is his loss.”
I chuckle softly and nod. But so many times throughout my life I’ve feared I inherited that same trait from my mother. That all I’ll attract is terrible, useless men.
Mawmaw squeezes my hand, bringing my eyes back to hers. “Josephine, your mother suffers. You know this, yes?”
I nod and she goes on. “Not a single one of us is capable of judging the suffering of another human being. No matter the ramifications of their suffering, whether it be poor choices or whatever they leave in their wake. What’s easy for one person might be a feat for another.
Leaving you and your brother wasn’t easy for her, believe me, but she knew the two of you were better off with me. That was her act of love.”
She leans to cup my cheek, a smile on her wrinkled face. “You’re a wonderful mother to two beautiful children. A handsome man has shown up at your doorstep to sweep you off your feet. Now, stop all this tomfoolery and let yourself be swept up. Marry him and live happily ever after.”
The smile I offer my grandmother is watery, but my heart is full from this moment with her. I gather and tuck my grandmother’s words, like precious jewels, into the crevices of my heart, the place I need them most.
We chat for a few more minutes, but slowly the sundown takes hold of her mind and she drifts to the past. I am, once again, her sister Evelyn.
It truly was a good day while it lasted.
Tears prick my eyes at the thought. A good day is no longer a phrase I have the luxury to take for granted.
Growing up, a good day would have meant we did something special, a trip to the movies or our favorite restaurant.
Slowly, I’m adjusting to the reality that now it means a day where my Mawmaw’s mind is still here with me, in the present.
Today, I’m so grateful for a good day, however short it lasted, because I know a time will come when this is a rarity.
When I go to hug her, I hold on tight and keep my arms around her a little bit longer.
Advice from my Mawmaw is exactly what I needed, and I consider it a gift that I had this window of time with her today.
She has always been my touchstone who grounded me to reality, and with her mind leaving like sands through an hourglass, I’ve felt bereft.
She’s slowly becoming less and less the woman who raised me, and a day will come when she’s gone completely.
On the short drive home, I’m struck by the realization that time is fleeting.
It’s the one commodity there’s not enough of and I can’t get back.
So what do I want to do with the time I’m gifted?
I want to make memories with my Mawmaw while I still can, I want to be fully present in the moment with my children, and I want to love wholeheartedly.
I want to fall in love with Tyler and be loved in return.
My grandmother’s words repeat on a loop in my head. “Abby’s father is the only man who would ever be right for you. Whatever happened between you and him, well, that’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing.”