Hope Springs (40 page)

“And I want to get to know my Keisha.”

Grandma Geri embraced her again, then Keisha sat on a chair next to the wheelchair, holding her grandmother's hand—mostly because Grandma Geri wouldn't let her go.

An awkward silence seeped in again. Did they resume mingling and chatting? Wait to see if Aunt Gwynn would come forward?

She did finally, slowly. She sat on the sofa a few feet from the wheelchair, though it wasn't clear if she was making herself comfortable or opening up dialogue.

“This is very difficult, being here,” she said finally, seemingly to everyone. “I've been gone almost forty years, and though from time to time I've seen my sisters and brothers and their kids, and a few others of you who've come to Jersey, most of you are practically strangers.” She looked out among them. “It cost me a lot, staying away. But neither could I come for many reasons. So I buried the past. Ran from it mostly. Who knows what the right thing was to do? Maybe I
should've
shown up at a family reunion one year with my daughter and faced my mother, Jim, and all my demons.” She shrugged. “Who knows?”

Aunt Gwynn took her time, almost emotionless. “So now I'm supposed to make my appearance in Hope Springs after all these decades, rush to my ailing mother's side, and say all is forgiven so she can feel . . . oh, I don't know . . . freer as her life nears an end. Is that what we're doing here?”

Grandma Geri had a tissue Aunt Gladys had slipped her. She clutched it in her lap, looking at the floor.

“See, it's real nice,” Aunt Gwynn said, “that my daughter can say she doesn't want to talk about the past, because she didn't live that past. I did.” Emotion was entering into her voice. “I was the one who was told not to bring my baby back here if I chose to keep her. I was the one made to feel like I'd done something horribly wrong because I'd fallen in love with a white man. Do you know I've never fallen in love with anyone else my entire life?”

She took a breath, looked at no one in particular.

“So maybe you're wondering why I came.” She was back to her collected self. “I came for my daughter, because she asked me. She wants to get to know her grandmother, and I will not discourage her. That's her choice. As for me, I still cannot think about my mother—my churchgoing, Bible-reading, always-telling-me-right-from-wrong mother—without seeing her face as she sent me from home and handed me an ultimatum about
my
baby. God help me, but I'm not ready to forgive her.”

She stood. “Wood, you said you'd take me to my hotel?” She headed for the door.

“Gwynn, don't leave like this.” Aunt Gladys stood as well. “What happened was terrible, but you've got to put it behind you for your own good. You've got to make peace.”

“Gladys, I told you outside. This is where I am and I'm not going to pretend.” She looked at her brother. “Wood, will you take me or not?”

The pain was evident in Uncle Wood's eyes. “'Course I'll take you, Gwynn.”

He picked up her luggage near the door and they walked out.

Keisha spoke with Grandma Geri in low tones. Janelle's mom, Aunt Gladys, and Aunt Denise went to the kitchen, where they would begin cleaning and dissecting everything about the night. The rest seemed to grope for what to do next.

Libby needed air. She walked out of the house a few seconds after her dad and watched him and Aunt Gwynn pull away. The entire episode had shaken her. She wished they hadn't had the party, not when it only gave Aunt Gwynn a forum to voice decades of bitterness. Grandma Geri would never forget the things she said, and in front of everybody. As sick as she was, to have to endure that kind of pain . . .

But Libby knew it was more than that. She took a few steps in the gravel, looking into the night sky, the silver moon. She'd seen in her aunt Gwynn a glimpse of herself—the running, the rebellion. Would Libby find herself in that same spot twenty years from now, alone, hardened . . . sad? That's what struck her the most, that Aunt Gwynn was sad, whether she realized it or not. She'd locked herself in a prison and didn't know how to get out. And hadn't Libby? Hadn't she locked up her heart, not knowing how to—

She turned when she heard footsteps coming toward her.

“Travis, I can't. Not now.” She turned back around, her heart beating through her chest.

“Just wanted to see if you were okay.” He stopped in front of her, his presence causing her to shiver. “You looked upset in there.”

Her feelings were a contradiction. She wanted him to go. She wanted him to hold her. “Hard not to be upset.” She couldn't look at him. “But I'll be all right.”

“Okay.”

He started back to the house.

“Travis . . .”

He paused. “Yes?”

She closed her eyes, not wanting to reveal her thoughts. But she wanted to know. “Am I a project to you?”

He walked back to her. “What do you mean?”

“Do you feel like you hurt me in the past, so you have an obligation to act like you care, invite me to church, and all that?”

“It's no obligation. I do care about you, Libby.”

“As a pastor?”

“As a friend.”

Quiet engulfed them for a few moments.

“So I see you and Omar are hanging in there.”

“Yeah. Things are going well.”

“Seems like a nice guy.”

“He is.”

They both stared into the night sky.

“Libby, I . . .” He turned to her, and his brown eyes spoke in earnest, looking deep into hers, grappling. He sighed. “I'd better go.”

She watched him walk back into the house, sure of what he'd said. He could see her as a friend but nothing more. He knew the life she'd been leading, the kind of life that disqualified her from his.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Monday, May 3

T
hey'd been told “any day now” a week ago, and family and friends had been squeezing in moments with Grandma Geri.

A hospice nurse had been coming regularly to the house for the past month—Dr. Reynolds too—but Janelle didn't need either to tell her that her grandmother was fading. Every day Grandma Geri appeared a little more shrunken, like the air in her earthly body was being let out. Today her breathing was more labored than ever, as if her spirit were giving a gracious warning that it was heading home.

They all seemed to sense it. Aunt Gladys, Estelle, and Uncle Wood were in the room. Libby had come from Raleigh last night after an event and was lingering this morning. Todd and Becca had made their usual morning visit but hadn't yet left. Same with Travis. He'd stopped by for a “quick hello” on the way to run an errand, and more than an hour later he hadn't left the room.

The older generation was telling funny stories from their growing-up years, and Grandma Geri listened, smiling, saying little. Though it was a beautiful warm, sunny day, she had two blankets atop her regular comforter, pulled to her neck. Her arms lay outside the blankets. Janelle held one hand, Libby the other.

Grandma Geri opened her mouth to say something, and everyone quieted. She spoke so softly it was hard to hear.

“Church,” she said. “Yes-ter-day.”

“Oh, the combined service.” Todd nodded his head. “It was beautiful, Grandma Geri. We'd been planning it for two months, but it was better than we hoped and prayed for.”

“Starting it on the first Sunday in May was perfect,” Janelle said. “The weather was gorgeous. Seemed like it spurred people to come out.”

There were people who stayed home too, and had been vocal about opposing it. But no point dampening Grandma Geri's spirits with that.

“Location was perfect,” Todd said.

“I wondered what it would be like, having it in the high school,” Aunt Gladys said, “but it was really nice.”

“Yeah,” Todd said. “But it was kind of funny seeing all those spring hats against the backdrop of the basketball nets.”

Grandma Geri's eyes smiled.

“And you should've heard Travis's sermon, Grandma,” Janelle said.

“I'm telling you,” Estelle said. “Resurrection Day might've been last month, but you got people fired up talking about what it means for our lives today, knowing Jesus is risen.”

Libby cast a downward glance. She hadn't been to church in Hope Springs since the one service when Stephanie was there.

Travis acknowledged their words with a thin smile. He'd been quiet, standing against the dresser.

They heard the side screen door open and bang close. Sara Ann came to the doorway, Ethan on her hip. She'd stopped by to see Grandma Geri and ended up hanging around to help with the kids.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “Is it okay to take Ethan to the little park up the street? Claire and Tiffany want to go.”

“Sure,” Todd said, “but you've got to keep a close eye on that one.”

“No problema,” she said, whipping out her secret weapon in a bottle. “He stays close to me as long as I'm blowing bubbles. Be back soon.”

Becca smiled as she left. “Soul Sisters was awesome this weekend too. That Sara Ann is something.”

Grandma Geri started coughing, a weak, raspy, quiet cough, but it commanded everyone's attention.

The screen door opened and banged shut again, and Janelle expected to see Sara Ann back with another question. But she gasped at the sight that appeared before them. “Keisha!”

“I didn't know you were coming,” Libby said.

Keisha walked farther into the room. “It was a surprise. My aunts and uncles chipped in and blessed me with a plane ticket so I could be here.”

Janelle looked over at them. They knew how much this would mean to Grandma Geri.

“And we just talked to you yesterday, so that was pretty sneaky,” Todd said.

Keisha hugged her brother. “I know. I wanted to tell you.”

Janelle moved so Keisha could sit next to Grandma Geri.

Grandma Geri looked long at her, licking her lips, and tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Keisha held her hand tight, looking into her grandmother's eyes, her own tears streaming. She hadn't seen Grandma Geri since the party in February. She had to be shocked by how different she looked.

Grandma Geri opened her mouth, and they all leaned in to listen.

“Thank . . . You . . . Jesus.”

She kept her eyes on Keisha as the raspy cough returned, lifting her head from the pillow. Then her head fell back softly again and she quieted. Her eyes closed.

Janelle knew immediately and began crying. No one said a word. Uncle Wood left the room. Aunt Gladys and Estelle stroked their mother's hair and kissed her cheek. Becca wept silently. Todd's head was bowed.

Travis moved from the dresser finally and stood over her, staring. Janelle had never seen him cry, but he didn't hide it. His tears fell and fell. Libby got up tentatively and touched his shoulder, and they held one another.

Janelle touched Keisha's shoulder. “She had a peace about going once she saw you one last time.”

Keisha couldn't respond.

Janelle wondered what was going through her cousin's head. She wondered if she might be thinking that between the last visit and this one, she had her own Hope Springs memories now . . . and unlike her mother's, they were good ones.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Saturday, May 8

Janelle sat graveside, staring at the white roses laid atop the coffin. Family members had each been given one when they arrived at the cemetery, and they'd placed them there at the close of the graveside service.

There were dozens and dozens. Janelle hadn't seen this much family at the reunions. They'd come from Grandpa Elwood and Grandma Geri's sides, three to four generations deep. Grandma Geri herself had one brother and two sisters living, all of whom were there, including Floretta. She'd come down by car with Keisha and her husband and son. The only conspicuously absent member of the family was Aunt Gwynn.