Chapter 49 - Gwendolyn
Gwendolyn
If I thought Willow Grove was full of whispered secrets and nosy people before, it was nothing compared to the twenty four hours following Mitch’s article releasing. Probably didn’t help that we all witnessed Richard Spencer being carted off in handcuffs right out of the front doors of Town Hall.
The Willow Whisk became the unspoken meeting spot for anyone wanting the scoop thanks to Mary and Bernie holding court at the couch by the window. It gave them the perfect view to keep an eye on the front steps currently swarmed with news vans and reporters, while also watching everyone coming in.
“You’re okay with them being here?” Ophelia asks as she rearranges the bakery case to fit the fresh goods she finished this morning. “I’ll tell them to find somewhere else to gossip if you want me to.”
“No, I’m cool with it. It’s keeping us busy today.”
“I’m not sure they are even telling the right story,” she whispers to me as we eye the duo currently waving down new customers that walked in to see if there has been any updates floating through the streets.
“Do you really think Richard had illegitimate children with 3 different women and that’s why he was stealing money? ”
I shake my head, knowing anything is possible at this point, but not believing that one for a second.
My grandmother’s phone beeps a tone I know she uses for her email and I wait with bated breath while she reads the screen. Her shoulders inch up toward her ears as she scans the words I can’t make out from where I stand.
“What does it say?” I ask quietly.
Clicking the side button on her phone, the screen goes black. Her fingers curling around the device in a white knuckled grip.
“Biopsy scheduled for two weeks from today.”
She swipes below her watery eyes with a shaky hand. A breathy chuckle escapes her lips as she attempts to force a smile out, but isn’t able to make it tilt up on both sides.
“That’s great, though, right?” My arms go around her shoulders as I hug her tightly to me.
She nods against my shoulder, where she tucks her face to hide a few sniffles.
I give her a moment to gather herself before I allow her to pull back fully.
My heart ached watching my grandmother fight the waves of emotions she has been riding the last couple weeks.
The emotions have been crashing against all of us, really, since we found out her secret.
The feeling that there is nothing we can do to fix what is going on with her—that we are powerless to this disease plaguing her.
She was always so strong for me throughout my whole life and now all I wanted to do was be the same for her. I felt helpless as I watched her struggle with the headaches she experienced and the sadness that regularly lived within her eyes lately.
Truthfully, part of me was almost glad we had so much going on outside of her diagnosis to focus on. Even if it was a completely different type of heartbreak and headache.
“Sorry.” Grabbing a tissue from the box we keep hidden below the register, she dries her face quickly. Fanning herself to stop the flow of tears threatening to spill again.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I remind her.
“I didn’t think I would cry over that email, but I guess it’s knowing we will finally get some answers. Or at least we are on the right track.” Ophelia blows out a heavy breath, her hand going to her forehead. “Remember when we had a boring life?”
I twist my lips to the side. “It’s a vague, distant memory at this point.”
Reaching out, she tucks a lock of hair that fell in my face behind my ear. Her touch softly caressing my cheek as she smiles at me. Though it doesn’t quite reach her red rimmed eyes. “Have I told you lately how much I love you, sweetie.”
My mind reaches out and holds onto those words, tucking them into a mental keepsake box. I had become like a squirrel hoarding nuts for the winter at this point with every small moment I got with her lately. The thought that we might not have many left is always looming over me like a storm cloud.
“I love you, too,” I whisper, unable to get my voice any higher thanks to the emotion clogging my throat.
She drops her hand, but doesn’t go far as she pulls me in for one more hug.
The bell over the door rings through the cafe, prompting us to turn in preparation to greet another customer, only to find Piper running in with a flushed face and gasping breath as if she ran all the way here.
“Have any of you checked your email yet?” She projects through the diner, her wild eyes going to the couch in the corner then back to us.
I’m about to ask what she’s going on about when multiple phones chime through the room, including my grandmother’s. Simultaneously, we hastily draw out our devices and fumble through getting the app open.
“Another Town Hall meeting?” Mary questions out loud. “Gwen, do you know anything about this one?”
I shake my head, scanning the details. “At the square tonight? I wonder what that’s about.”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Piper muses as she walks around the counter. She glances over her shoulder at Mary who is stepping up to the counter. “Getting any vibes from this, my favorite witchy woman?”
She eyes me before responding. “Nothing new than what I’ve been feeling. Although, I have to admit there is a bit of hopefulness permeating the air that is giving me some excitement.” Her empty mug clinks on the counter and she slides it my way. A sheepish grin forming on her lips.
I roll my eyes, but still refill her cup for the fourth time. “Something tells me that’s just the caffeine high you’re riding right now. Do I need to cut you off?”
I’m not sure if I imagine the hiss I hear as she snatches her mug back up, cradling it to her chest as she scurries back to her seat. The gems and beads dangling from her shawl tinkling as she moves.
“You know,” Ophelia starts. “I don’t usually agree with the woowoo Mary talks about. But I can say I also feel a bit hopeful after that email. I mean, not much could go worse at this point. Maybe they have some answers.” She tosses me a wink. “Especially for you.”
My grandmother walks away to talk to the customer that is studying the bakery goods, pointing to all the confections they want to try.
“Famous last words,” I mutter.