Chapter 32 Greta
Greta
“Grandma, I’m sorry,” Hailey said. “This must be just terrible for you.”
“Thank you, honey.” Greta, watching through the window as Lindy knelt beside Tom in his Adirondack chair in front of the fog,
felt as if a bandage had just been ripped off, exposing a gaping wound to light and air.
“I just wish there was some way you didn’t have to sell Innisfree? I mean, what if you moved in with Mom and Dad, like Mom
said?”
Greta blinked. Turned to Hailey. “I . . . I don’t think so.”
Hailey frowned, shook her head a little. “I have to try to call Noah.” She turned and hurried to run upstairs.
Greta didn’t know why Hailey would go upstairs if what she wanted was to make a phone call. She wanted to shout after her
that she, Greta, had done her a favor regarding that young man.
But she supposed what she’d done instead was ensure that the entire family would think she was losing her grip and couldn’t
be trusted. Not with herself and her own decisions, not with the fate of Innisfree, and not with moving to Florida, let alone
with caring for Tom.
Never mind that she’d been the one holding everything together all these years.
You’re not going to be able to do it on your own.
Greta needed to sit down, but she just stood there, feeling like a fool, looking out to where Lindy still crouched beside
the arm of her father’s chair.
Greta wanted so badly for Lindy to understand.
But how could she have said all that she needed to say? How could she make her reasons understood?
I can’t let this ruin your life.
I wanted so badly for everything you wanted this summer to go well.
I need to let go of the past.
I’ve tried and tried to keep you safe, and I’m afraid I’ve failed, as all parents are bound to fail—but I won’t stop trying.
This is the only thing I know to do, even if I’m wrong.
Lindy never would understand, would she? About Florida and Sunset Acres. About selling Innisfree. (Greta would never, ever
tell Lindy the whole truth about what had happened in the attic here. She would protect Lindy from that, at least!)
And now, Lindy wanted Greta and Tom to move in with her and David in Rhode Island. Just the scenario that Greta, in making
the plans to go to Florida, had been hoping to avoid.
Greta could already hear the arguments Lindy would continue to make: We have extra bedrooms now that the kids are gone! Or we’ll make over David’s office, if you don’t want to do stairs! I’ll
handle Dad’s medications, his appointments; I’ll handle everything. You can just relax. I’m good at caring for people; it’s
what I’ve been doing for twenty-five years!
But this would be a nightmare. Wouldn’t it? Trapped in suburbia with her well-meaning daughter and overwhelmed, polite son-in-law,
who would not want Greta and Tom there but would never say so, plus a series of intermittent, energetic, nearly grown grandchildren.
And it would ruin Lindy’s life, having a front-row seat to her father’s decline.
And Greta, God forgive her, had been picturing long solo walks on the beach in sunny Florida.
Quiet when she wanted it; music, again, when she was ready.
Either way, it would be a setting free from her own old memories, from who she’d always been.
Even from the duties and responsibilities of being “Mom” or “Grandma.” She would be simply “wife”—and this would be a more-than-full-time job from now on.
(Not that she wanted to change places with Tom, not really, but sometimes she did think, Why not me?
Why couldn’t he be the one left to take care of everything?
To remember for both of them? To continue performing the old
roles, “Dad” and “Grandpa,” which he had always relished more than she had relished her own.)
God forgive her, she simply wanted to put her entire focus on caring for Tom. And she wanted Tom, no matter what it took,
to be fully at ease in the final chapter of his life.
If Greta let Lindy be part of caring for him, she would get none of that. And she would be failing her husband and her daughter—and
herself—in too many ways to count. Even if Lindy believed the opposite, Greta knew this was true.
Hailey came running back downstairs, cell phone in hand. She went to the rotary phone and picked up the handset, pressed it
between her ear and shoulder. She read off the screen of her cell phone as she dialed the rotary, and the clicking sound filled
the room.
In Greta’s day, people had known the numbers of the important people in their lives by heart.
Hailey stopped dialing and listened. After a moment, she announced, “He’s not answering.”
Good, Greta wanted to say, and it wasn’t that she had meant to ruin her granddaughter’s wedding. God knew she’d tried everything
she could these last few months to avoid that very thing.
But here was the same old lesson that it seemed to be Greta’s fate to learn over and over again: In a moment, even things
that had once seemed perfect could be ruined completely.
She wondered if Innisfree had defeated her now, in the end. Despite all her efforts to the contrary.