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“I didn’t mean to make you feel forced—” I start but she cuts me off.
“No, I really appreciate it,” She swears. “I’m sorry I didn’t let us have these conversations weeks ago...months ago.” She looks down to her lap, wringing her hands together.
“It’s okay,” I promise.
She smiles softly. “It’s really easy to talk to you.” I smile at that.
“I can say the same to you,” I admit.
She reaches across the small distance between us and takes my hand in hers.
TWENTY-FIVE
MADELINE, THEN
We pull up to his grandmother’s house almost an hour later. We hit a bit of rush hour traffic on the way. It is a tiny house, one story with fading green paint on the outside. But even though I can tell the foundation isn’t great and time hasn't been too kind to it, the lawn is mowed, the small porch is clean with a rocking chair and butterfly wind chime, and there are flower pots hanging outside the door. I know without asking that Elliot is the one who keeps up with what needs to be done here.
He opens the door for me and takes my hand as I get out of my car. He pulls me in for a quick kiss before saying, “Remember she doesn’t talk much. Now that she’s sick, she barely says anything at all. She didn’t used to look so sickly either, but it got really bad this summer.”
I squeeze his hand. “I understand. Don’t worry about me at all.” He leans in for one more kiss before leading me to the front door. There is a brown bag on the welcome mat. He had me order food ahead on my phone so it would be here when we arrived. We decided on Italian food, both of our favorites. He pulls a key out of his pocket and unlocks the door. He leads me inside where we are met with a small but clean kitchen.
I follow him through the kitchen to a living room where an older woman sits on a recliner. She is slim with aged and wrinkled skin. She has a Penbrooke High baseball hat on, which makes me smile. She looks like she is on the brink of fading away. She has no hair from what I can see. She is swallowed up by her clothes, and I wonder if she has always been so tiny or if the sickness contributed to that. My heart breaks for Elliot. He leans down to kiss her cheek and she grasps his hand in hers affectionately.
“Ma, this is Madeline. The girl I’ve been telling you about,” He says as he puts his hand on my lower back. I smile at her.
“Julia, it is so nice to meet you. Thank you so much for welcoming me into your home,” I say warmly, a little nervously. Elliot rubs his thumb in circles on my back encouragingly.
She gives me a tight smile before saying, “It’s nice to meet you.” I smile. No one says anything else and I reign in my urge to make small talk.
“I’m gonna get the food ready. Mads, will you help me?” Elliot asks.
“Sure, of course.” He leads me back to the kitchen and starts opening the bag of food and setting it on the table.
“Plates?” I ask. He points to the cabinet. I get plates and find cups as well. He makes up a plate for her and brings it to the table next to her in the living room.
When he returns to the kitchen, he says, “It’s easier for her to stay put.” I nod in understanding. We make our own plates and join her in the living room. She is watching a home renovation show, but she lowers the volume when we sit down.
“How was your week, Ma?” Elliot asks, then takes a bite of pasta.
“Okay,” She answers. He nods before taking another bite.
We eat in silence for a few minutes before Julia asks, “What is your major?” I can tell, similar to her grandson, she doesn’t know how to keep conversation going.
“Education. I’m going to be a teacher,” I say proudly with a smile. She smiles back.
“That’s very nice,” She replies.
“Thank you so much.” I continue, “I’ve wanted to be a teacher since I was a little girl.”
“She used to tutor in high school, and she still does now in college,” Elliot adds.
“Yeah, I’ve even convinced this one here to let me help him with a few of his assignments. He’s stubborn, as you know, I’m sure,” I tease. Elliot bumps his knee against mine and I do it back. We smile at each other. I look over to Julia, who is watching our exchange with what looks a little bit like shock in her eyes.
I keep going, “I’m not sure what subject I want to focus on though. I’ve really been enjoying my English Literature class, so at the moment I’m leaning towards English…but I know that can change next semester when I find another class I love.” I sigh and eat another bite.
“You?” Julia says abruptly to Elliot.
“Still not sure,” Elliot admits quietly.
