Barbara Williamson was an average woman with average intelligence, average looks, and an average disposition. Like the overall average of married women in America, Barbara had gone through a divorce when her not-so average husband, James, left her for a beatnik poet named Alessandria Pinot Grigio. The only thing he wanted in the divorce, he said, was the Impala, the newer of their vehicles. Barbara could have the '91 Taurus and the house. She thought that to be an equitable trade even though the Taurus always seemed to be in need of one service or another.
Barbara lived in her average house, in her average neighborhood, with her little more than average daughter, Jill, a chubby girl with a sunny disposition whom one would not immediately call pretty, but she was darned cute thanks mostly in part to her brick-red hair and her freckles. Jill attended the local community college where she was training to be a cosmetologist. Sadly, like her mother, she was currently unattached, but unlike her mother, that never stopped Jill from hanging out with her friends and having a good time. Barbara, it seemed, had given up on the prospect of anything good ever coming into her life again.
About a week after James filed for divorce, Barbara's mother, Edna, lost her battle with cancer. Her father, Edward, now lived alone in the spacious house in which Barbara was raised. He had told her that he could not bear to be there by himself, so he suggested that Barbara put her house on the market and she and Jill could move in with him. It would mean Jill transferring to another school, considering that Edward lived out of state, but Jill was optimistic about the change in scenery, which tipped the scales currently held by Barbara's indifference.
Once the move had been made, Barbara gained employment at Costco and quickly made a name for herself with associates and management alike. Twice she had been named Employee of the Month and was currently in the running for Employee of the Quarter. During all this, she tried her level best to keep her father occupied with one thing or another, which meant taking him to the Senior Center every Monday through Friday. Edward protested, though, stating, "All those geezers there are just waiting for Death to claim them." If Barbara had looked closely at her father, she very well could have said the same about him.
It was not to Barbara that Edward opened up, though, but Jill, as Barbara's indifference toward most everything but her job gave anyone who dared engage her prevented interaction on any level, and the conversation with Jill occurred one night after dinner while Barbara was bathing. Let's join that conversation in progress.
"I'm telling you, Jilly, that place has the stench of death in the air."
"Oh, don't exaggerate it, Gramps. I'm sure it's quite nice."
"I'll tell you what," Edward said as he sat on the edge of his recliner. "Come by for a visit tomorrow after your mother drops me off and see for yourself. If you still think I'm lying, I'll continue to go without another word, but if you are convinced that I'm telling the truth, you convince your mother to stop taking me to that damned place."
"Okay," Jill answered. "Sure, Gramps. I'll be there tomorrow no later than ten."
Jill lived up to her promise. She had not been inside the place for more than a minute when she grabbed her grandfather by the wrist and whisked him away to the safety of the outside world. "Geez, Gramps. I'm so sorry. I never knew."
"Well, now you do," Edward said a bit sarcastically. "Now take me home so I can get on with my life." The remainder of the ride was made in silence.
Once home, Edward made to go to his room, but Jill stopped him and said, "Unh-uh, Mister. Not yet. Come in the living room. We need to have a talk."
Edward reluctantly obeyed her, seating himself in his recliner. "So, go ahead then. Talk."
"You said that the senior center was full of old geezers just waiting to die, but what about you, Gramps? It seems you're content to just wither away now that Gramma is gone. I love you, and I want you around for a long, long time."
Edward broke down crying. "I just miss her so much, Jilly, and now that's she's gone, what reason do I have to live?"
"Me," Jill said as she placed a comforting hand on his. "I want you to walk me down the aisle on the day that I get married, Gramps. Promise me that you'll start taking better care of yourself. You don't exercise, you aren't eating like you should ... I bet you've lost ten-fifteen pounds since we moved in."
Edward clasped his free hand around the one Jill had placed upon his other. "I'll try."
"No, you won't
try
, you'll
do
, or else I'm going to have to call one of those assisted living people to make you do it."
Edward laughed. "I bet you would." He laughed again. "Sounds like something Edna would say. You look a lot like her when she was your age, you know."
"No, Gramps. I don't. I never saw any pictures of her when she was young."
"I have some in a box in my room. Let me go get them." Edward left, then reappeared about five minutes later carrying a shoebox filled to the brim with old photos. He searched for a few seconds, then pulled one out and handed it to Jill. "Here. Tell me what you think of that."
"Wow," Jill remarked as she took possession of it. "The resemblance is uncanny."
"You've got a good piece of her personality as well, Jilly."
"Then I'm a better woman for it," Jill responded, "but back to what we were discussing earlier: You need to start living a better life, Gramps."
"I'm sorry, Jilly, but I don't know that I can. Edna was everything to me, and with her gone, I just don't have the gumption to go on alone."
"Well, can you at least try?" Jill asked. "For me?"
"I'm tired," Edward said in way of a response. "I think I'm going to go lay down." He returned to his room with the box of photos under his arm.
About thirty minutes into his nap, Barbara called to tell Jill that she would be working a double. "It's a great opportunity for some overtime, plus it might sway me getting that Employee of the Quarter prize. Anyway, pick your grandfather up from the senior center around four. I should be home by eleven-thirty."
Of course, Jill did not tell her mother that Gramps was already home and that he wouldn't be going back to the senior center. That was a conversation they would have tonight. In the meantime, though, Jill on the spot planned to make a meatloaf with a side of green beans. Upon Jill and Barbara moving in, Edward had told the two that some of Edna's stuff had been stored in the attic. Of this "stuff" was clothing, nick-knacks, and recipes, just to mention a few. Jill thought to surprise Gramps with a meatloaf made from Edna's old recipe, so she ventured into the attic to search it out.
Jill took her time as she was unfamiliar with the attic. She walked carefully, testing every board she stepped upon. She soon made her way to the back and began opening boxes. The first contained some old comic books. She knew they were old because the prices varied from five cents to ten cents. She saw Batmans and Supermans and Captain Americas, and even though she didn't know their exact worth, she had to imagine that Gramps was sitting on a little gold mine.
Jill opened a second box and found post cards and letters. She looked at a few and saw that some had come from Korea.
Gramps was in the Korean War, wasn't he
? Deeming the letters too personal, she closed the box without a second look.
She pulled a large box out and opened it to find a smaller box inside. She removed the smaller box and noticed it had been sitting atop ... something. She pulled the "something" from the box to discern it was a wig, gray in color and just below the ear in length. She surmised that this must be what Gramma had worn when she lost her hair due to chemo. Under the wig was a black dress with a dark red pattern running throughout its entirety and white lace cuffs at the end of the long sleeves and around the neck. She held it up and it looked like it would fit her. She thought to try it on but decided against it. Jill placed the dress and wig back in the box, then opened the smaller box to reveal that she had found her grandmother's recipes. She made her way back downstairs. It was too early to make preparations for dinner, so she spent the remainder of Gramps's nap time sifting through Edna's recipes.
"What do you have there?" It was Edward, who had awakened from his nap.
"Oh, hey Gramps," Jill called over her shoulder. "I found Gramma's recipes. I hope you don't mind. I thought I'd try to make her meatloaf tonight."
"That would be wonderful, Jilly. What were you going to make with it?"
"Green beans and mashed potatoes and gravy."
Edward smiled. "Come this way." He went to the cupboard and had Jill empty the top shelf, then he pulled a couple of boards loose, reached in, and grabbed a Mason Jar that contained green beans. "She always loved to can stuff. We've got these, tomatoes, okra, and a few other things I can't remember right off. Our secret though, okay?"
"Our secret," Jill agreed. "Oh, and it's just going to be you and I for dinner tonight. Mom's working a double."
"Fine with me," Edward responded. "Even when she's here, she's not here."
"I know what you mean, Gramps. I'm sorry."
"Not your place to apologize for your mother's actions, Jilly." Edward remained silent for all of two seconds before adding, "She got divorced, but she acts like she's the one suffering through a spouse's death."
