Chapter 1 #2
“What happens if two cars go in?” Mari asked.
“One of us would have to back up,” Jillian said mildly, not wanting to worry her with talk about cars crashing. Besides, in all her years in Sugarville Grove, that had only happened one time, and it was more of a fender-bender than a full-blown crash.
Mari had no follow-up questions, and there was no sound or sign of another car coming, so Jillian proceeded carefully across the bridge.
“It’s dark,” Posey whispered.
“It’s loud,” Mari added worriedly.
“It’s over,” Jillian announced as they came back into the brilliant afternoon sunlight. “And now we’re at Gram and Grampy’s house.”
Posey cheered and Mari joined in, lifting Jillian’s heart.
But as she pulled up the drive and parked close to the house, a different kind of worry began to set in. Something here wasn’t right.
Big trees had always lined the wooded hillside along the street, providing privacy for the house. But Grampy kept the front lawn neat as a pin, and he painted the porch steps nearly every summer.
Looking around now, it seemed like the woods were encroaching on the yard, and the paint on the porch was faded and peeling in places.
They’re getting older, Jillian reminded herself. These are exactly the kinds of things they can use our help with. And there’s not a thing wrong out here that I can’t solve with a little elbow grease.
“Here we go,” she said brightly, getting out of the car and heading back to open Posey’s door.
A moment later, the three of them were standing outside the house, looking up.
“Are you ready to see your great-grandparents?” she asked.
But the girls had no chance to answer, because the front door swung open and there were Gram and Grampy, looking a little smaller and grayer than before, but with the same great big smiles.
“Welcome home,” Gram called out. “Who wants to help frost cookies?”
Mari and Posey practically exploded across the yard at that.
Jillian held her breath as they stampeded up the old wooden steps before she could stop them. Without a fresh coat of paint, boards like that could rot out in just a few years in this climate.
But thankfully they held, and she followed her girls up to the porch where Gram and Grampy hugged them all and welcomed them inside.
After the bright sunlight, it took Jillian’s eyes a moment to adjust. But when they did, her heart sank.
The inside of the house didn’t look much better than the outside.
The tiny sitting room was dark and cold, making her wonder if the radiator was working.
And in the living room, the ivy wallpaper bubbled with water damage under the big window, and she spotted some water stains on the ceiling farther into the room.
“We don’t much use the upstairs hall bath anymore,” Gram confided.
“Oh,” Jillian said, dragging her attention back to her grandparents and feeling ashamed for getting distracted by the condition of their home. “It’s an old house.”
But it was hard not to let her mind spin out.
Her whole plan had been to stay here and add on. She had enough from the sale of the city condo to put a modest two-bedroom, one bath addition on the little house.
But looking around, it seemed like where her money really needed to go was fixing the place up to make it safe for her grandparents. And if the rest of the house was this bad, she might not have enough to do even that.
“We put a new roof on a few years back,” Grampy said with a proud smile. “It set us back some, so we’ve had to defer some other things. But that roof will last thirty years, and we’ll get caught up on the rest soon enough, you’ll see.”
And this was the trouble with Jillian being in the city, Amberlee out in Seattle, and Mom and Dad in Florida. Even cousin Ellis had moved down south. No one had been here to realize what was happening and lend a hand before things got bad.
“It’ll be great,” Jillian agreed. “I’ve always loved your house.”
Grampy smiled and Gram led the girls back into the big kitchen, which thankfully looked much better than the living room.
It even seemed to have a fresh coat of paint.
The Christmas hand towels, white with bright red poinsettias, were hanging from the oven handle and the ring by the sink.
And the scent of vanilla hinted that maybe Gram had made her famous sugar cookies.
“Oh goodness,” Jillian said. “I forgot the groceries in the car.”
“You didn’t need to do that,” Gram scolded her.
“The Lawrence boy was here earlier and brought milk and a few other things,” Grampy said with a fond smile. “Such a good kid.”
He didn’t say which Lawrence boy, but Jillian was pretty sure that would be Tag.
He was the oldest and most responsible, though he’d always been a bit of a grump.
It was kind of sweet that he brought over milk from the family dairy farm for her grandparents.
She made a mental note to thank him when she saw him.
“I’ll help you carry it in,” Grampy said, grabbing his jacket.
“Oh, no,” she told him. “I don’t have the city gym anymore. I need my workout.”
She was a lot more worried about his back than her exercise, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Fine,” Grampy said, chuckling. “Pull around back. It’ll be easier.”
That seemed like an odd request, but she was kind of wanting to see the state of the back steps anyway, so she nodded and headed out.
For all that it was overgrown, the yard was as wonderful as she remembered. The leaves had all fallen, but the tall trees were alive with birdsong. A pair of cardinals hopped along the outside of the concrete birdbath, but the water in it was frozen.
The thicket of rhododendrons by the house still had its gloriously glossy green leaves. In May, those bushes would be studded with beautiful purplish-pink blossoms as big as birthday cakes.
She pulled the car around back and was happy to see that there was a fresh bed of gravel where Grampy’s ancient Chevy pickup was parked. The back steps looked to have a fresh coat of paint on them too, and the beds for Gram’s herbs and vegetables all had new boards.
See? She told herself. They know what needs doing. They just don’t have the energy to do it all, or the money for help. But together, we’ll get it all sorted.
She got out, grabbed the first few bags of groceries, and headed into the house.
Gram, Grampy, and the girls were already spread out at the big kitchen table, where beautiful sugar cookies on trays practically covered the whole surface. Bowls of frosting were lined up waiting, just like they had been when Jillian and Amberlee were little.
Jillian paused to watch Gram help Mari carefully stir green food coloring into one of them, while Posey wiggled and squirmed in excitement. Both girls wore the flowered aprons that usually hung from hooks by the back door. Gram had sewn them all herself and she had others for the holidays.
It was such a wholesome and familiar sight that all Jillian wanted to do was set the groceries down on the counter and join in.
But that wasn’t an option if she wanted to accomplish everything on her list and get the girls settled for an early bedtime, so she set the first two bags on the kitchen counter and opened the fridge.
She expected to see a gallon of milk and maybe a few other odds and ends. Getting plenty of healthy food in the house was one of the things she was hoping she could help out with the most, since Gram and Grampy were on a fixed income.
But she was stunned to see that the refrigerator was practically full.
There was a gallon of milk, a block of sharp cheddar cheese, a foil-covered casserole dish, a head of lettuce, bags of apples and grapes, and a row of big yogurt containers that Jillian strongly suspected were being reused to hold homemade soup or chili.
She opened the crisper drawer and found it filled with green peppers, onions, and a bag of cucumbers, all of it looking fresh and new.
There was barely going to be room for the groceries she had bought.
This can’t all be from Tag Lawrence, she thought to herself.
She opened her mouth to ask, but when she glanced over at Grampy helping Posey with a cookie, the words died in her throat.
Posey was focused intently on her task, something that was rare for the outgoing, energetic little girl. Her head inclined slightly toward Grampy like a flower leaning toward the sun.
And Mari was smiling widely at her great-grandmother as she watched her place tiny, perfect buttons of red frosting onto the blue sweater of a cookie in the shape of a girl, her hand still remarkably steady after all these years.
Her daughters had no real memories of being here before, but it was clear that they felt instantly at home.
How many children had the opportunity to bond with their great-grandparents like this?
The knot in Jillian’s chest let go a little more as a sense of peace and gratitude settled over her like a warm blanket.