Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
LYNETTE
I made a substitute teacher very happy by not going to work the day after Granny’s disappearance. Or the next. I did what I rarely did and called out sick.
It was irrational. Granny was safe. That didn’t shake a need to be close by and keep eyes on my beloved. Even with Aunt Pauletta’s arrival yesterday, it was difficult to pull away.
Illogical? Perhaps. But Granny’s Great Escape left me unnerved, had me playing guardian angel as if my presence could prevent further unfortunate occurrences.
Neurotic hypervigilance proved a good thing in that I was present when Adult Protective Services made an in-home visit two days after Granny’s escapade. The social worker was in the vicinity and had a cancellation that opened up space on his calendar. Could he drop by?
Per department regulations, he had ten days to follow up on law enforcement’s report. It was a standard welfare check. An opportunity to provide resources.
As a teacher I understood mandated reporting.
Part of me appreciated APS for caring about elders in our society.
Another part was slightly offended. As if my family was under a microscope for alleged neglect.
But at the end of the day, ensuring my grandmother’s wellbeing outweighed defensiveness, and I appreciated the caseworker’s suggested action items.
We’d been after my grandparents to install a house alarm for years.
But Granddad was an old school Texan who elected to exercise his second amendment rights.
After his passing—per his request—his pistol and rifle were gifted to Shelby, my gun-collecting cousin.
Now, thankfully, Granny was amenable to a security system with twenty-four-hour monitoring.
We chose one with sensors that chimed whenever a door or window was opened to alert whoever was in the house with her, as well as wireless doormats that would trigger should Granny ever attempt to walk off again.
During the meeting I ordered wristlets, quasi medic alert bracelets, as recommended. They contained GPS chips and paired to an app allowing us to track Granny’s whereabouts. As well as door locks with keypads that required a code Granny wouldn’t be given.
More than the other measures, those locks were heartbreaking.
I hated feeling like my grandparents’ home was being turned into a fortress or prison, or that Granny was being barricaded.
To her credit, she was open-minded and mostly cooperative.
That is until the caseworker suggested it might be advantageous for her to consider living in a care facility or moving in with one of her five children.
“No, indeed. You want me freeloading off the folks I birthed or living with strangers gumming prunes and applesauce and smelling like liniment? Take your little notepad and get on. This interview is finished.”
The caseworker had been amused versus offended, and our meeting ended not too long after.
I walked him to the door and immediately wanted to crash on Granny’s couch and take a week-long nap.
I was drained, emotionally and physically, but there was family business to discuss.
Mama, Aunt Bert, Aunt Pauletta, Uncle Thad and I sat with Granny in the dining room.
Mama’s oldest brother, Uncle Mitchell, was attending a funeral for a long-time military buddy. We’d update him later.
I felt a twinge of awkwardness, like a child on Thanksgiving sitting with grownups versus at the kiddie table with peers. But Justus and I had spent the last two nights at my grandmother’s, allowing Mama and Aunt Bert to rest while helping Aunt Pauletta settle in.
“Mama, how’re you feeling?”
Granny squinted at Aunt Bert’s knee in a temporary cast, pending surgery. “I’m fine. You alright?”
I managed not to laugh. Terracina Braxton was back, sassy and witty as always.
Her bus excursion left her exhausted, disoriented yesterday.
She remembered only bits and pieces of what happened.
She recalled boarding a bus to the east side, but in her mind, it was out of nostalgia for her old neighborhood.
When Mama told her she’d gone to confront Maeve Mickelson, Granny’s response had been pure Granny.
Why would I do that when that hussy barely paid me when she was alive? She sure wouldn’t do so from the other side.
“Let’s wrap back to what the caseworker suggested,” Aunt Bert continued without missing a beat. “What do you think—”
“I said my piece. I’m not moving. Not in with one of you. Or nobody’s facility.”
“Mama, the caseworker only affirmed what we’ve mentioned on more than one occasion.
” My mother stepped in as negotiator. Clearly this recent episode colored her opinion, left her open to the possibility that Granny living elsewhere was in her best interest. “It’s not safe for you to live alone anymore. ”
“Little girl, I wiped your behind. You tryna tell me where and when to wipe mine?”
“No, ma’am, but you’re our mother and your welfare is—”
Granny interrupted. “I’m not living in anybody’s care home, Veda.”
“What about living at my house? It’s big enough for the both of us.”
“Maybe, but it’s yours. Not mine. And that would make me a visitor. I don’t want that.”
Uncle Thad weighed in. “We promised Daddy we’d take care of you. Which we can’t do without your cooperation.”
“And my promise to your father was not to lose the house we worked so hard for. So, let me say it so everybody understands.” She eyed each of us in turn. “The only house I’m living in has my name on the deed. I’m finished. I’m going to watch my stories.”
I watched her leave the room, opting for the melodrama of soap operas over her worried family.
Silently, I celebrated her bravery even while praying her resistance would soften.
She was both matriarch and rock, and I wanted to honor her wishes.
But life had changed and the foundation beneath us had shifted.
Moving forward required something different.
“She can’t stay alone. Particularly at night. My Aunt Pauletta’s here temporarily, and Aunt Bert lives six blocks over. But that isn’t the same as the constant in-home care she needs. We have to find an agreeable solution.”
I’d spoken to Rodney on the way home from Granny’s and brought him up to date. Now, I was phone-cheating with Paul. At least, that’s how it felt.
“Since Mrs. Braxton won’t consider an independent living facility, is residing with family a possibility?”
My repeating Granny’s “only living where her name was on the deed” had Paul laughing. “Your grandmother’s a firecracker.”
“She’s sweet as all get out, but she’s also the firebomb dot com. And like my grandfather used to say, muleheaded as the day is long.”
Laughing and sharing with Paul was good medicine. It loosened the vise-like tension about my shoulders and neck. I appreciated the camaraderie of an old friend. Still, my crying on Rodney’s shoulder when Granny vanished intruded on my memory.
I usually held things together. Whatever the difficulty.
Or tried to. Granted, Granny’s disappearance was next-level horrifying.
It merited tears. But it wasn’t that. It was my unquestionable ease when leaning on Rodney.
There’d been no resistance. None of what my sisters dubbed my stubborn independence.
I wasn’t immune to needing anyone. Simply put, I’d been raised to give. Not merely get. To extend kindness and acts of service. To be a blessing. Not a bother.
Yet here you are talking Paul’s ear off.
I glanced at the kitchen wall clock. “I should let you finish up your workday.”
I’d left Granny’s early enough to stop by the grocery store and grab something quick for dinner before swinging by the school and picking up Justus.
We’d been home all of ten minutes when Paul texted.
Rather than return his text, I’d called instead.
Shortly after four p.m. and still within the business day, I’d been prepared to leave a voicemail, but he’d answered on the second ring.
That was more than thirty minutes ago and we were still chatting. “I appreciate you for listening.”
“That’s what friends do. By the way, I’ll be back in July for my parents’ wedding anniversary. I’d enjoy seeing you and spending more time together. If that works for you…”
I slipped a heat-and-serve lasagna into the oven before finding my bottle of Tums in the kitchen drawer. I popped two to combat the fact that, despite my love of Italian food, red sauce and I didn’t get along.
I chewed the chalky discs and wondered if Paul expected a repeat of his last visit.
I’d let my guard down and scratched an itch, but I wasn’t into random sex.
I was somewhat conservative in that regard and considered relationships a precursor to intimacy.
Paul and I didn’t have that, and I wasn’t overly interested in establishing anything long distance.
Still, I told myself not to be dismissive.
Matters might move in that direction. Unlike Granny’s ten toes down stance, I’d do my best to be open.
If a relationship with Paul proved to be what I wanted.
July’s four months from now. That gives you time to figure it out.
“That would be nice, Paul. We might even go outside the house.”
He laughed heartily before offering farewells and disconnecting.
Seeing a text from Nichelle that Chester the hamster had been found in the classroom next door and returned to safety, I fake cheered while heading to the great room where Justus sat with his school-assigned Chromebook doing homework.
Normally he worked at the kitchen island, but had asked permission to use the great room, citing my phone conversation as disruptive. “How’s it going, son? Is everything straightforward or do you need help with anything?”
“I finished my math, but Mr. Daniels wants more details about my essay. He said what I turned in was way too brief.”
I read the blue index card he handed me.
Zanitha Freeman: 1) Walked a long way. 2) With three kids. 3) Walked some more again.