Rain (Hudson 1)

"Maybe I will."

"Maybe you should," I said sternly.

She spun on her heels and retreated to the kitchen. I sat there fuming about it and wondering why my mother and my aunt didn't take more interest in who worked for my grandmother. I ate what I could and then I went into the kitchen myself and began to fix her tea and toast.

"What are you doing that for?" Merilyn asked.

"I thought I'd make it easier for you," I told her sharply. She didn't catch my sarcasm.

"Thanks," she said and went to clean up the dinner dishes.

I brought up the tea and toast. My grandmother was in bed, nearly asleep.

"Why are you doing that?" she demanded.

"She always manages to burn the toast," I replied. My grandmother looked at it and then smiled. "You're right," she said, "but I'm still not hungry."

"You'd better eat something anyway and you always need some liquid."

"Is everyone around here a frustrated doctor or nurse?" she cried toward the ceiling.

I sat beside the bed.

"And just what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm staying until you eat and drink something," I threatened.

She glared at me, dropped her head to the pillow and closed her eyes. I rose and held the tea cup. She opened her eyes, looked at it and then sipped some when I offered it. I gave her some toast and she took a bite, glaring at me the whole time.

"Satisfied?" she said.

"Yes?'

"Good. Then let me sleep."

"The doctor should see you again," I told her. "You look too pale."

"Oh..." she moaned.

"All right. I'm leaving. Good night," I said

and headed for the doorway.

"Good night," I heard her say. It wasn't a reluctant good night. It was warm.

I turned back and saw her close her eyes and made up my mind to call the doctor first thing in the morning no matter how angry it would make her.

14

On. My Own

.

Doctor Lewis didn't come to see Grandmother

Hudson until after I had gone to school. I decided not to warn her that he was coming. I looked in on her before I left; she was awake, propped up in her bed and looked a little more rested, but still weak, her voice not as strong.

"How are you this morning?" I asked her. "Fine," she said. "Just go on about your business," she said, waving me out before I could even suggest having the doctor come to see her. It was more bothersome to her that I saw her unwell than her being unwell. Her pride kept her a lonely woman, I decided.