I sat down on the bed again and scooted back up against the wall. My call was quickly answered by an automated system instructing me to dial nine and the resident’s room number, and also to have a blessed day. I dialed for 204. The phone rang and rang. And rang. I was about to hang up when an unfamiliar woman's voice came over the line.
“Ms. Price's room. This is Beverly speaking.” She spoke with a kind and patient manner, almost as if she was living on a different speed than the modern world.
“Hello. My name is Katherine Fuller. I'm Ms. Price's granddaughter. I was hoping to speak to her.”
“Oh. I see. She's just finishing up in the bathroom. Shouldn't be more than a few minutes.” It sounded as though she placed the receiver on a hard surface and I could hear muffled voices and a fair bit of arguing, most of it coming from my grandmother.
“Hello.” Her greeting showed zero affection. It was merely the way a person answers the phone.
“Grandma. Hi. It's Katherine.” Just like that, I was ten years old again. My voice was small. I was tiny. Insignificant. Being in my childhood room was only making the feeling more powerful. All around me were reminders of what I used to be, of what had happened.
“So you waited until I was nearly dead to call me.”
“What? No. Not at all.”
“There is no inheritance. Everything is going to the Fraternal Order of Police. They're the only people who gave a crap when your grandfather died.”
Amy and I would've given a crap if she’d actually informed us that he'd passed. We'd found out about it from our dad, who read it in the newspaper. The obituary ran the dayafterthe funeral. “I’m not calling about money.” I kneaded my forehead. I didn't want to come out and just ask for the necklace. We had a lot of catching up to do. “How are you? I looked at the website for the place you're staying. It looks nice.”
“It's not home. I'd rather be living with your aunt. Apparently I'm too much of a pain in the ass for that to happen.”
“But you're doing okay?”
“What's the reason for the social call, Katherine? We haven't talked in twenty years and you up and decide to find my phone number? I know you want something, so just tell me.” Her voice sliced right through me. There would be no reconciliation with Grandma Price. That was pretty clear now. It wasn't that I’d believed it could happen, but I’d been holding out a sliver of hope. If only for my sister.
“I’m calling because Amy is getting married.”
“Good for her.”
It was a good thing we weren't meeting face-to-face. She was really starting to push my buttons. “And I think she should be able to wear something of our mother's for her wedding. You have everything.”You stole everything.
“Like what?”
I froze for a moment. That was an actual clear and rational answer from her. “The pearl necklace our mom wore on her wedding day.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“What? Why?”
“Because it's mine and I don't have to part with it if I don't want to.”
“But your granddaughter is getting married and she has nothing of her own mother's for her wedding day because you took everything.”
“I had to preserve the memory of my own daughter. I wasn't about to trust any of you to do it. Knowing you all, you'd probably just sell everything.”
“Grandma, that's not true and you know it. It wasn't fair, what you did. Amy and I deserve to have a small reminder of our mother. It's not too much to ask.”
“No, Katherine, itistoo much to ask. I lost my daughter. She shouldn't have died that day. Nobody seems to think about what I went through. Nobody cared then, and nobody cares now.”
I drew a deep breath through my nose. Of course she'd suffered a horrible loss, but was I supposed to compare her pain to what Amy and I went through? “I cared. I cared a lot. I tried to hug you in the hospital the day after she died and you wouldn't even hug me back.”
“I was in mourning!” she snapped.
I nearly dropped the phone. Her voice was like a razor blade. I was stuck in that place where your brain is telling you to be sensible and walk away from an argument but your gut is telling you to fight. I didn’t want to take crap from someone who had no business serving it. But again, the necklace—I had to focus on that. “Okay. I'm sorry.”
“Nobody should be held responsible for what they did that day.”
That's very convenient for you.I wanted to ask if it was possible for her to say that no one should be held responsible for what they'd done the day before, or the day before that, but I knew better than to open my mouth on that subject. “Again. I'm sorry.”
