Susannah's Garden

Perhaps worst of all, Susannah was asking her to give up her garden. This was almost more than she could bear. There was comfort in her garden, in its beautiful colors, its scents….

Tears welled in her eyes and she rested her head against the back of the garden chair and swallowed a wail of grief. Susannah would do it. She’d seen that glint in her daughter’s eye. She’d seen the determined set of Susannah’s mouth. Even as a child, Susannah had been stubborn, often to the extent of foolishness, defying George at every turn. Her only living child would haul her off to an asylum, all the while declaring that it was for Vivian’s own good.

Exhausted, she finally closed her eyes and slowly rocked, letting the gentle movement lull her into a state of relaxation.

“Vivian.”

Someone was calling her. A quiet voice far off in the distance. Was it in her mind? Or was it real? Vivian strained to hear. It was her George; she knew that much. George struggling to come to her, struggling to cross the great divide.

Vivian’s heart rate accelerated as she opened her eyes. “Yes, George, I’m here—I need your help.” She hurried to tell him everything. “Susannah wants to move me into an assisted-living facility. What should I do…Tell me, what should I do?” She waited but no one answered.

“George, please! I need you to tell me what to do.”

Her cry was met with silence. She peered into the shadowed corners of the garden but saw no sign of him.

Sobbing openly now, Vivian began to rock back and forth but found little solace. She closed her eyes again, and it was then that she heard a single word float past her, soft as a whisper.

One word that would change her world. One word that told her what she had to do. One word from George. She’d asked and he’d answered.

George told her to go.

CHAPTER

8

Chrissie Nelson stared at the silent telephone and cursed it for the umpteenth time that day. No one had phoned, not even her best friends. Everyone was either vacationing or working, and she was trapped at home and she hated it.

Getting a job, any job now, was pointless and nearly impossible. She couldn’t even work at her father’s dental office, not that she really wanted to. She’d done that the previous summer and it hadn’t gone well. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t as reliable as he thought she should be; apparently he was still annoyed about the days she’d disappeared after lunch, because he hadn’t offered her a part-time position this summer—not even as a last resort. Her job, he said, was cooking and cleaning, and he was supposedly paying her. He didn’t have enough money in his account to give her what she felt this was worth.

Chrissie would much rather be with her grandmother. She’d always been close to her Grandma Vivian, and she hadn’t seen her since the funeral and everything had been so upsetting then. Grandma had been so brave when the family left. Chrissie remembered seeing tears running down her grandmother’s face as the family car pulled out of the driveway and then she’d started crying, too. It’d been so hard to leave her behind. Chrissie’s heart ached for her—and all at once she knew what she had to do. She had to go to her Grandma Vivian. That was where she wanted to be, where she needed to be. Somehow she’d find a way.

Determined now, Chrissie reached for the phone and dialed her grandmother’s number in Colville. After four rings she assumed no one was home, but just as she began to hang up, her mother answered.

“Hi, Mom, it’s Chrissie.” She forced a bright cheerful note into her voice.

“Chrissie. You’re lucky to catch me. I was outside watering Grandma’s garden.”

“What’s going on?” she asked, wondering how to lead into the subject of joining her mother.

Her mother seemed preoccupied. “Grandma and I just got back from visiting assisted-living places.”

“Grandma went willingly?” So progress had been made.

“Your grandmother was willing to listen to reason this morning.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Very good. This is difficult for her. I don’t know what made her change her mind but whatever it was, I’m grateful.”

“Where’s Grandma now?” Chrissie asked.

“She’s lying down at the moment, thinking everything over.”

In other words, she was taking a nap.

“I had a great idea I wanted to talk to you about, okay?” Chrissie hated sounding like a little kid afraid of being refused, but she sensed that her mother wasn’t going to like this idea.

“Sure. What is it?”

“Dad mentioned that you were planning to rent Grandma’s house or maybe sell it right away.”

“Yes.” Her mother seemed reluctant. “It’s one of the nicer homes in town and I’m not sure it would be wise to bring in renters, especially since we won’t be able to keep an eye on the place.” She seemed to be thinking out loud, weighing her options.