I nodded. “I’m fine. It’s been hard, but I’m fine.”
“Good.” She put her arm around my waist. “You’ve been so brave, honey. When Jamie had his accident, I didn’t think you’d be able to cope. But you did and I’m real proud of you. You took good care of him.”
My mother, a glass-half-full person, who believed it was important to keep her children from getting “a big head,” was never one to throw away compliments, so her comments surprised me. I was a little curious to know why she thought I might not be able to cope, but decided I was better off not knowing.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“So what are you going to do now?”
“Well,” I said, “my flight leaves out of Minneapolis at eight o’clock tomorrow morning, so I hope I can get on the road before dark. I’d like to get at least a few hours of sleep. There’s a little bit of paperwork I still need to do to get the ashes shipped out to me.”
She tilted her head far to the right. “Shipped? Do you mean you’re not going to bury them here?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t think that’s what Jamie would want. I talked it over with Penny and Jerry and they agree.”
My mother set her mouth, the way she always does when she’s irritated with something I’ve done. Growing up, I saw that look on her face at least twice a day, sometimes more. It got to the point where I realized that her expression wasn’t even necessarily related to my actions. Sometimes, my mere existence irritated her.
That hurt: I won’t pretend that it didn’t. When I was a kid, I wanted nothing more than to please my mother, but somehow I never could. Jamie said that it wasn’t me, it was my mom; that she was the kind of person who just couldn’t be pleased with anyone. It wasn’t until Jamie and I moved into that little apartment over his folks’ garage and I saw firsthand how a happy family operates that I realized he was right.
It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t Mom’s either. She wasn’t wired for happiness.
“Grace,” she said impatiently. “Answer my question. What are your plans? When are you coming home?”
“Home? You mean back to Minnesota? Mom, I’m not. My job is in Portland now.”
“And your family is here!” She clicked her tongue and set her mouth yet again. “For heaven’s sake, Grace. You can always find another job. Family is irreplaceable.”
I looked at my mother, the thin woman with the thin smile and the unhappy heart. Then I looked across the room at Nan, whose heart was infinite, who took in strays of all kinds—four-and two-legged—and nurtured by nature, who had swallowed back her greatest fear to fly halfway across the country so I would know she cared, and I realized that my mother was right. Family, wherever you may find it, is irreplaceable.
“I’ll call you when I get to Portland. I’ll be out to visit at Christmas.” I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you, Mom.”
Chapter 20
Grace
We hit some mild turbulence on the flight back to Portland. When deep breathing didn’t do the trick, Nan, clutching at the armrest, asked me to talk to her.
“About what?”
“Anything. I need a distraction. Tell me what you’re working on.”
“This?” I asked, looking at the pile of blue and green patches I’d piled on the tray table. “It’s just another quilt block.”
“It’s pretty,” Nan said, even though her eyes were screwed shut. “Tell me about it. What’s the pattern?”
“Well, I think it’s actually called Aimee’s Choice,” I said. “But I’ve decided to call it Hero Star. I’m making it with scraps of Jamie’s old EMT uniform. He was already working as an emergency medical technician back in Minnesota. He saved the lives of at least a dozen people, probably more.”
“I didn’t know that,” Nan said, opening her eyes.
I nodded. “Originally, even before he got sick, he wanted to be a doctor. He was one of those people who liked helping other people. But he lost a couple of years to cancer; then his dad needed help on the farm. . . .” Nan released her grip on the armrest and laid her hand on my forearm but didn’t interrupt my story.
“After a few years, Jamie decided he didn’t want to wait anymore, so he signed up for EMT training at the community college. He loved the job but could only get part-time work in our area, and after a while, he decided he really wanted to become a paramedic in a city setting.” I smiled. “We closed our eyes and stuck a pin in a map to decide where we were going to move for his paramedic training, but I’m pretty sure he peeked. He’d been talking about Portland all along—mild winters, lots of recreational opportunities.
“At first, I wasn’t so sure about moving. I’d never lived anywhere else and I’m not as adventurous as Jamie. He had to talk me into it, but I’m glad he did. I’m glad he got to do some of the things he wanted to do with his life.”
“Me too,” Nan said. “But what do you want to do with your life?”
I shrugged. “Live, work. Same thing I’ve always done. I mean, I’d like to find another job at some point, something with a slightly less miserable schedule, but I’ll be back at the office tomorrow morning.”
Nan frowned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Maybe you should take some time off, give yourself time to mourn and consider your future before diving back into business as usual.”
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to; I’m out of vacation days. Plus, I’ve got bills to pay. Besides, I’ve been mourning for almost two years. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Really.”
The plane hit a little bump. Nan let out a little yelp and clutched at the armrest again, her knuckles
