Page 108 of Perfect Enough
“Josh?” Grams said from the direction of the kitchen. “I’m in the kitchen.”
I quickly walked through the house and found her rolling out a pie crust. Walking over, I kissed her on the cheek. “Hey, Grams.”
“Hello, sweetheart. If you’re looking for your parents, I made them go back home.”
Frowning, I asked, “You’re here alone?”
She stopped rolling the dough and looked at me. “Yes. I am very capable of being here by myself. I may be heartbroken, but I still know how to take care of myself. Besides, I needed to be alone for a bit.”
“Oh. So…is now a bad time?”
“Nonsense! I love it when you kids come and visit. I just don’t need my sons breathing down my neck.”
I smiled and sat on one of the stools at the island. “What are you making?”
Rolling the dough once again, she smiled. “Your grandfather’s favorite pie.”
“Apple.”
“You bet! Want to help?” she asked with a hopeful smile.
“Of course,” I said, rolling up my sleeves. “Do you need me to peel them?”
“Peel and slice. You remember where the apple slicer is, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied as I grabbed my favorite knife and the apple slicer.
She pointed to the apples and said, “Do three pink lady and three of those green apples there.”
I started peeling the apples without hesitation while she continued with the dough. We worked in silence for about five minutes before she spoke.
“Where’s that darling girlfriend of yours?”
My stomach lurched, and the breakfast I managed to eat threatened to come back up. “I think I messed up big time with her, Grams. Actually, Iknow. I don’t think.”
“How so?”
I sliced one of the apples and put them in the bowl Grams had set out for me.
“I was in a dark place the day of the memorial, and I wasn’t very kind to her. The next day, I told her to pack her things and leave.”
She stopped what she was doing and looked at me. “Are you paraphrasing, I hope?”
Shaking my head, I replied, “I wish. I just needed to be alone. To figure some things out.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know. I keep thinking maybe if I’d been here on the ranch the day he passed, I could have helped him. I could have started CPR.”
“That was done, Josh. It was too late.”
“No,” I said to her as I put the knife down. “I know how to do itproperly. I’ve had training. Maybe Lincoln was doing it wrong, and Uncle Brock was as well. If I’d been there…I could have saved him.”
Grams put the rolling pin down, wiped her hands on her apron, and faced me. “Is that what you think, Josh? Thatyoucould have saved him where the others failed?”
“It’s myjobto save people, Grams.”
“And that’s pretty damn arrogant of you to say.”