Cinnamon (Shooting Stars 1)

Grandmother had concentrated her efforts on Daddy's office this day. I didn't know how she had done it, but all by herself she had moved his heavy dark oak desk across the room so it faced the window on the east side, and once she had done that, she had to change everything: lamps, chairs, the small sofa, tables and even rearrange books,

"Why didn't you come home for dinner?" she demanded as soon as I entered the house. She had been watching one of her movies and keeping one ear turned to hear me or Daddy come home. The second I closed the door, she was in the hallway.

"I went directly to the hospital and visited with Mammy," I told her. "You were there all this time?" "It's not down the street," I replied without

much emotion. "Don't you want to know how she is?" "I've already spoken to your father about her,"

she told me.

"Really? Well considering he wasn't there, I'm

sure he was very informative."

"He's been in contact with her doctor, which is

more important," she insisted.

"Is it? You think that's more important than

having your husband come see you, be with you,

comfort you?"

"Don't start with your dramatics," she warned.

"All of you children are so theatrical these days. It

comes from spending so much time in front of the

television set," she analyzed. "It's either that or staring

into a mirror all day."

"I don't do either. Grandmother, and you know

that. Matter of fact, you watch more television than I

do, and you wear more makeup," I added.

"Don't be insolent."

"I'm not being insolent. I'm just stating facts." "Never mind, never mind," she insisted. "There

are far more important things to talk about and do. I'm

getting this house intelligently organized. Come see

your father's study," she told me.

It was really more of a command. but I was too

curious not to follow her, and when I saw it, I smiled

to myself.

If he doesn't like it, too bad. I thought. "He works mainly in the afternoon when he

works here on the weekends. He shouldn't be facing