What did he mean? Where would I go?
Can you tell me when you are coming home? I have been looking for your things, but I haven't found them yet. I keep looking.
Jordan
.
I folded the letter and put it in an envelope. Then I wrote Ian March on the front of it and sealed it. I didn't have any stamps, but I knew Grandmother Emma had them in her office and she would have to write the address on the letter anyway.
She was downstairs in her office, in fact, when I was finished. I knocked on her door even though it was open because she told me to always do that. She wasn't at her desk. She was in the big leather chair and had her head back. I realized she had fallen asleep so I tiptoed to her desk and put the envelope on it, but as I started out, she opened her eyes.
"Oh, Jordan. What is it?" she asked me.
"I wrote a letter to Ian and I wanted to ask you to mail it to him for me, please."
"I see. Yes. That's probably a good idea," she said, which surprised me.
She sat up farther. Is your father rolling around the house?"
"No."
"He was a handful when he was a child: he'll be armsful now," she muttered and started to stand.
Suddenly, she was dizzy. I knew because she moaned and reached out for the back of the chair. She swayed, too. I didn't know what to do. I never had seen her almost fall, but I reached out and took her hand. She had her eyes closed and gradually grew steady again. Then she opened them and realized I had taken her hand into mine to help her.
She smiled at me. It was the wannest, most loving smile I had ever seen her give me.
"Thank you, Jordan. I must have risen too quickly. That can happen to you, sometimes, even when you're young. I'm tired, though. I think I'm going up to bed. How about you?"
"Yes," I said.
"I'll see to it that Ian gets your letter, she promised, nodding toward her desk.
I let go of her hand.
She turned and started out. "Coming?" she asked me, holding out her hand.
I was surprised again. I moved quickly to take her hand and we walked out together, down the hallway and to the stairway. I had never held hands with her before. She let go at the stairway and leaned on the balustrade more as she ascended. I followed closely behind. At the top of the stairway, she paused and took a deep breath.
"Maybe I should have installed that lift," she said. "For myself." She glanced at me and then she took my hand again and we walked together down to our bedrooms. "Are you all right?" she asked me.
"Yes."
"Good. Don't let your father depress you," she warned me again, "Sometimes,'" she said as she stood by her bedroom doorway, "the people we love don't love us as much and sometimes they become lead weights around our ankles, pulling us down if we let them. The trick is not to let them," she said.
She was back to tossing tidbits of wisdom at me. "Can you remember that, Jordan?"
"Yes, Grandmother."
'Good. Good. Let's go to sleep. Now that your father's here, we're both going to need our full strength." She opened her door and went into to her bedroom.
I wished I hadn't finished Ian's letter and put it in the envelope.
Now I had much more to tell him and to ask him.
26 A Kaleidoscope of Emotions
. Daddy was so demanding and so nasty to Mrs. Clancy that she threatened to quit twice the first week. Grandmother Emma had to raise her salary to keep her working for us. He had temper tantrums and threw things, including his food. He refused to cooperate with the therapist and for two whole days, he refused to leave his bedroom. I heard Mrs. Clancy say he messed himself deliberately. She told Grandmother Emma she had worked with disabled people enough to know when someone needed more psychotherapy and Daddy was someone who definitely did. She suggested he had been released too soon.