Page 12 of Skipping Stones
When Linney left his office, smoothing down her skirt and breathing deeply to regain her composure, she didn’t see Mac open his desk drawer with shaky hands and unscrew the cap on a bottle of vodka. The coffee she’d brought, which had started to cool, needed a little something extra to get him through the day.
6
When Linney landed in Toronto a week before Easter there was still snow on the ground. Her brother Jake picked her up at the airport with his children in tow. “You’ve gotten so tall!” she exclaimed, hugging all three of them tightly.
“Welcome home, Auntie Linney,” they chorused fighting to take one of her bags.
They found Jake’s SUV in the parking garage and the kids hopped in the back seat. “Rachael didn’t come.” It was more of a statement than a question, but Linney was surprised not to see her. She’d been looking forward to chatting with Jake’s wife.
“Things are a little tense at home,” he said tersely. She looked at him with concern but he didn’t explain and his tweens soon filled the space with chatter.
On her second night there, she was surprised to find Rachael had taken the kids out to the movies to give the siblings some time alone. Linney looked at her brother over the kitchen island. “Okay, Jake, this is weird. What’s going on?”
“I just want to make sure you know what to expect when you get up to Silver Lake.” Linney’s brow furrowed. “Gran’s getting older is all. You must have noticed when you were home last year.”
“Yes, but she was fine.”
“Things are different now,” Jake continued. “I brought Gran’s computer down to the dining room a few months ago, and there’s been a big change since Christmas. You should know, she can’t handle the stairs any longer. We’re lucky she hasn’t fallen.”
Linney looked shocked. That office space upstairs was special. She still remembered the day Gran had taken a large ornate brass key off the shelf—a key she’d had been told never to touch—and unlocked a door Linney had never seen open. The door was unlike all the others in the house. It was narrow, and arched, with a circle of glass in the top. And it was painted bright blue like a clear summer sky. Gran beckoned her granddaughter to come.
Eyes wide, a young Linney tentatively climbed up a circular staircase that led to a room at the top. “This is my special room,” Gran said in a secretive voice. “I don’t share it with other people. But today, I want to share it with you. It’s where I come when I need to be alone, or when I want to paint, or make up stories. I thought maybe you’d like to do the same. All that I ask is that you let me open the door when you want to come up here.”
“I’ve arranged for someone to come in to clean for her now, and to cook twice a week,” Jake continued, jolting Linney back to the present. “I don’t know how much longer she’ll be able to stay in the house.
“I … I didn’t know,” she said sadly.
Jake reached out his hands to squeeze Linney’s before continuing gently, “You’re just too far away to know the day-to-day things. I’m telling you now, so you’re not surprised.”
Linney had been sure her brother was exaggerating, but she saw the changes immediately. Gran moved slowly and more cautiously now than she had the previous autumn. She seemed frail and was unsteady on her feet. Her slippers shuffled across the floor between the kitchen and the living room. She gripped the railing tightly when she took the steps one at a time from the porch to the driveway. But while repeating herself more than she used to, she could still be relied upon to recount family stories.
“Tell me about them, Gran,” Linney asked one evening after dinner as they settled in front of the fireplace. She had just returned from the kitchen with mugs of piping hot chocolate. “Tell me a story about my parents.”
“I remember when they found out they were pregnant with you.” Linney smiled and settled back into her chair to hear the familiar story. “Your mother was in shock. Jake was a teenager already—almost ready to go to university—and she thought she was far too old to have another baby. But your dad? He was over the moon. He was so excited that another McDonnell was coming into the world. He calmed your mother right down and convinced her that everything was going to be alright. He always had that way about him. Your mother had terrible cravings with you and I remember him telling me he had to drive across Toronto to a specific bakery to get almond croissants for her. And when they named you after me? It was such an honour.
“He was a good father to you both. Your dad was the one who first noticed you squinting and sitting so close to the television. And he made sure nobody bullied you at preschool when you first got your glasses. He treasured you.” Linnea’s voice caught. “I miss him, Linney, even now, all these years later. I wish you’d had a chance to really know him.”
Linney got up and put her arm around her grandmother. She hadn’t meant to upset her. “It’s okay, Gran. I know him—both of them—through you, and through the stories you tell me.” They sat in silence, watching the fire flicker until they finished their hot chocolate.
After Gran had gone to bed that night, Linney unlocked the blue door and climbed the stairs. Jake had moved Gran’s computer, but the well-worn leather chair was still there, and she could see the moon reflecting off the lake through the windows. She ran her fingers across the spines of so many favourite books from her childhood. She pulled one from the shelf and curled up on the chair, remembering all the times she’d done that with Gran, and realized for the first time, with a lump in her throat, that she wouldn’t always have Gran to come home to.
* * *
The next morning, Linney walked across the yard and knocked on the familiar door at the little yellow house next to hers
“Linney!” Mrs. Blake looked happy to see her. “Derek told me you were coming home. He’ll be up tomorrow with Olivia. You know, I always thought it would be you. But she’s lovely, and he seems so happy.”
Linney laughed. “Yes, they’re both in love and ecstatically happy. And I’m happy for them.”
“You sure?” Mrs. Blake looked carefully into Linney’s eyes.
“I’m sure. And I have Mac.”
Mrs. Blake knew when she was beaten. “Come in, my dear. Tell me all about your latest adventures. I love watching you on TV.”
Linney soon found herself in the Blake kitchen, with a mug of coffee in her hand and a plate of ginger cookies in front of her.
“How is Gran doing?” Linney broached the reason for her visit carefully after several minutes of chit-chat. “Jake’s worried. And I’m seeing changes too.” She paused to break off another piece of warm cookie and pop it in her mouth. “Mmm. So good. You’ve always been such a good neighbour and friend to her. I don’t want to put you in an awkward position, but I’m wondering if you think there’s anything we should be doing to help Gran stay in the house.”