“I should be here, helping you and Marty. We’re a family,” I say. “What happens to Amelia’s if you can’t run it anymore? We both know Marty can’t give up his oil job to keep it going full-time.”
“That’s my worry and not yours.”
“But what about your life and Marty’s?”
“What about them? We manage just fine. The boy takes after his grandfather and takes things one day at a time. I wish you’d do the same.”
“I guess...” I don’t want to make her feel bad, like she’s a burden, because she’s totally not.
“You guess what?”
“Well...Marty stayed here originally so I could go run off to college and find my legs. And you paid for basically everything. It’s only fair for me to pick up the slack, so he can do something he wants...even if that’s just having a break from working two jobs.”
She picks up her spoon and shuffles back to the counter to stir her cookie dough.
“I suspect that if there’s something Marty wants, he’ll do it, whether you’re here or not, Shelly. He chased that North Earhart job for years and worked his way up, just like your uncle and granddad. But you wanted to see the world. We happily supported you because we love you. No regrets. That’s how it is when you love someone. Seeing them happy means more than all the flowers on God’s green Earth.”
I’ve heard that before and wonder if there’s something wrong with me for always being so selfish.
Am I living with wires crossed in my brain?
“Did you always know what you wanted, Gram? Did you ever want to live somewhere else?”
“Been there, done that.”
“You did? What? When?” I’ve never heard anything about it. “I thought you lived in Dallas your entire life.”
“Not quite. After high school, I went to Chicago for a couple years. I took up a secretary job at a big company that sold pots and pans. It was good fun, for a time, but I was awfully homesick. Every letter I got from North Dakota only made it worse. I knew in my heart that the Windy City wasn’t where I belonged. So I made a snap decision. I quit my job, packed my bags, and got a train ticket home. The day I was packing to leave, a visitor dropped by who assured me I’d made the right choice.”
She sighs and the smile on her face grows so big, so bright, I’m breathless waiting for more.
“Who?”
Setting down her spoon, she folds both hands beneath her chin and looks at me with shimmering eyes.
“Who else, dearie? Your grandpa. Doug said life around Dallas went mighty pale when I left, and he was set on moving to Chicago. He wanted to know if I knew a place where he could stay.”
My jaw almost bangs on the floor.
“Grandpa Doug followed you to Chicago?”
“He did.” She giggles softly. “I pulled my train ticket out of my purse and told him he could have my apartment because I was moving home.”
“What did he say?” I smile for the first time today.
Her laugh comes out so light it’s like a softly strummed guitar.
“Nothing. Not with words. He just grinned, tore up my ticket, and picked up my bags with a whistle to follow him out to his car.”
“Holy crap. You’re serious?”
“Completely. We were married a little over a month later.” She winks at me. “Eight months after that, your father was born.”
Calculating what that means, I laugh.
“Gram! You were pregnant when you got married?”
“Not at all.” She shrugs. “In those days, lots of babies were born a month early. Something in the water or air, I guess.”