Anna reached across the table to touch Karla's hand. “I can't leave it like this between us. Your mother will never forgive me.”
It was everything Karla could do to leave her hand under Anna's. “My mother has nothing to do with how we feel about each other. And she doesn't care. If there is a heaven, and you do get there, the two of you will be so busy talking about Heather and Grace, you'll forget all about me.”
“Oh, my dear, sweet Karla, don't you know you'll be the first person we talk about?”
Now she did take her hand back. “Don't play those games with me. All I'm saying is that people talk about the people who are important to them. If you think it bothers me that I'm not your favorite, you couldn't be more wrong. You're not my favorite person either, Anna. Being related doesn't mean you have to like someone. All we owe each other is loyalty. That's why I'm here.”
Anna couldn't tell whether her heart was failing or breaking. She only knew that the pain in her chest was worse than it had ever been. How could she not have known how Karla felt? When the three of them had come to her, Heather and Grace had been so easy to love, so needy after two years of being emotionally ignored. Karla had only been angry.
“I owe you so much more than loyalty,” Anna said. “If I could I would give you your childhood to live all over again.”
“Why? Are you saying there's something wrong with the way I turned out?”
Anna put her hand to her heart and pressed, an automatic, futile gesture she'd adopted months ago to try to help her struggling heart. Responding to the alarmed look in Karla's eyes, she dropped her hand and said, “It's nothing, just a catch in the muscle or some such thing, happens all the time.”
“Isn't there something they can give you?” Her anger had turned to concern.
“I'm sure there is. It's just that I'm taking so many pills now I lose track of what they're all for. I'd just as soon not add another one if I can get along without it.”
“You shouldn't be living here alone.”
“I'm not. You're here with me.”
“Only for a month.”
“Susanâ”
“I know. Susan has been terrific, but you're going to need someone full-time eventually. Or you're going to have to take Heather up on her offer to have you move in with her.”
“I have other friends, too. Since I sold my car, there's always someone calling to see if I need anything or want to go somewhere.”
“I thought most of your friends were gone. At least that's what Heather told me.”
Anna had expected the subject to come up, just not so soon. She struggled for an answer, knowing how easily the wrong words could thrust them into the middle of yet another argument.
“I know it's something I'll have to consider one of these days, but I'm not ready yet. This isn't just a house to me, Karla, it's my home.” It was suddenly deeply important that Karla understand what Anna was trying to tell her. “Your grandfather planted every tree in the yard and painted and papered every room in the house. When I leave here it will be like leaving him. I'm well aware that when I'm gone, this place will be torn down and something big and beautiful and impressive built in its placeâjust like all the other houses on this street. No one wants a house like this anymore. I don't blame them. I just don't want to be around when it happens.”
“Then we'll look for someone to hire to stay with you when it's time.”
The statement brought a dichotomy of feelings. Anna had expected to have to put up a fight to be allowed to die at home. She was relieved at how easily Karla had conceded the point, yet a little sad, too. She didn't want the last face she saw to belong to a stranger. “I'm not sure who you would call for something like that, but there must be an agency. There is for everything else.”
“You're going to have to let Heather know you won't be staying with her. She's expecting you.”
“I know, and I love her for caring so much.” Heather was Anna's bright spot, her success story, the child she'd managed to bring through the crisis of childhood with the fewest scars. She knew Karla would take her words as criticism, but Anna would not hold back from one granddaughter to save the feelings of another.
Not now. She'd tried for twenty years to put her words and thoughts for her granddaughters on a mental justice scale, trying to give to each equally. It hadn't worked.
Anna reached for the syrup and poured a thin layer over her French toast. “Can you imagine Heather trying to take care of me and Jamie and Jason and the new baby all at the same time?”
“I'll talk to Grace,” Karla said. “Maybe she can arrange her schedule to come up to stay awhile.”
That was as likely to happen as a permanent truce at the bird feeder. Anna had no illusions about Grace. She'd been taken care of so long and by so many people she'd never learned to take care of herself, let alone anyone else. “I haven't heard from her in a month or so.” It had been more like three. “How is she doing?”
“She told me she talked to you just last week.”
Even knowing it was a mistake, as usual, Anna covered for Grace. “Oh, did she? I must have forgotten.”
They finished their breakfast in silence.
When it was obvious Anna would eat no more, Karla got up to clear the dishes. At the sink, her back to Anna, she asked in the breezy, impersonal tone they usually used with each other, “Do you have anything on your schedule for today?”
“A doctor's appointment. Susan said she would take me.”
“What time?”
“Eleven-thirty.”
“Give her a call and tell her that I'll take you. I assume you're still going to that guy in Granite Bay?”
“I haven't seen him in months. He referred me to a cardiologist in Sacramento.”
“He couldn't come up with one a little closer?”
“If it's going to be a problem for you to take me, Susanâ”
Karla turned around to face Anna. “Look, I think if we both give a little and don't jump on everything the other one says, we might make it through the month without constantly being at each other's throats. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Now, how long does it take you to get ready?”
“A half hour.” No, that was how long it used to take. “Better make that an hour.”
“It doesn't take me near that long, so why don't you get started while I finish the kitchen?”
Anna nodded. She placed her hands on the table, leaned forward and slowly stood. “After what's happened this morning, I know it might be hard for you to believe this, but I'm glad you're here.”
“You knew I'd show up sooner or later. I'm the controlling one, the one with the compulsive need to put things in order. That's what you meant last night when you said you'd been waiting for me.”
“There are things left unsettled between us, Karla. You may not know that here . . .” She touched her forehead with her finger. “But you do here. . . .” She put her hand over her heart. “You don't want me to leave before we take care of them any more than I do.”
“I'm sorry, Anna, but you're wrong. I came here because I knew it would be easier to do what has to be done now than to have to do it later.”
“I never gave you your answer last night,” Anna said.
“About what?”
“Whether I wanted you to go or stay.”
“I didn't expect an answer. I don't need one.”
“Some things need to be said out loud anyway. I want you to stay, Karlaâthrough the fights, through it all. I've never asked anything from you before. I'm asking now.”
“I'll be here as long as I can, but I can't stay away from the shop forever.”
“That's okay. I don't have forever.”
K
arla wiped off the table as she listened to the sounds of Anna getting ready for the shower. As soon as she heard the water running, she would return the call Jim had made to Heather. She'd worked out a reason for not calling sooner and rehearsed it in her mind often enough that she was sure she could pull it off without letting him know how upset she was about the girlfriend. If she waited any longer, he would know. She had to call this morning.
She just didn't want to chance Anna's overhearing the conversation and then having to pretend to her, too, that the girlfriend didn't matter. The wound was too new to convince Anna it didn't hurt, and she never shared that kind of thing with her grandmother, especially where Jim was concerned.
Anna had said from the beginning that Jim was the wrong man for Karla. Karla had been furious the first time she expressed her opinion and unforgiving when it turned out that Anna was right.
The almost century-old pipes clanged as Anna turned on the shower. Karla wiped her hands on the kitchen towel and reached for the phone on the wall above the table. She had her hand on the receiver when the bell sounded.
“Anna Olsen's residence,” Karla said.
“Karlaâthank goodness you're there. I was afraid you might still be en route from Heather's.”
At the sound of Grace's overly cheerful voiceâthe one she used when she wanted somethingâthe French toast Karla had eaten turned to a lump in her stomach. “I got in last night. Why are you looking for me?”
“We forgot about the insurance for the new car.”
“No, we didn't. You said you were going to call your agent first thing Monday morning.”
“That's not what I mean. You forgot to figure how much it was going to cost when you arranged the financing.”
Karla was suddenly, overwhelmingly weary. She leaned into the wall and cradled the receiver between her shoulder and ear. “You don't include insurance in an auto loan, Grace. That's something you take care of separately. The same way you did with your old car.”
“I didn't have insurance on the old car.”
“You must have. You can't renew your license in California without proof of insurance.” The silence that followed lasted so long Karla began to wonder if they'd been disconnected. “I saw a current tag on your old car, Grace. If you didn't pay to have it renewed, how did it get there?”
“You don't want to know.”
“I hope you didn't tell the insurance agent about this.”
“I'm not stupid, Karla,” she said testily. “And I don't need a lecture.”
“So why did you call?”
“I need eight hundred and twelve dollars to pay the first six months' insurance or that idiot salesman won't let me pick up my car.”
After all she'd already been through to help Grace get reliable transportation, it seemed stupid to stop at eight hundred and twelve dollars. Still, it grated that Grace had automatically assumed she was good for it. “Did you ask about making monthly payments?”
“What good would that do? You saw my bills. You know I barely get by on what I make now.”
Much to Grace's annoyance, Karla had insisted on looking at her expenses to see whether she could handle monthly car payments. Between the cost of acting, singing, and dancing lessons along with being seen at restaurants the in-crowd frequented and the upkeep on the wardrobe she insisted she needed to impress the “right people,” Grace barely made her portion of the rent each month. If her two roommates hadn't had the power to evict her, Karla doubted Grace would have taken that commitment seriously. Karla had refused to cosign the loan until Grace agreed to follow the budget she set up for her. A budget that accommodated the car payment, but not the insurance.
“So you're asking me for a loan?” Karla said.
“You know I'm good for it.”
Karla opened Anna's junk drawer and poked around for a pen and paper. “Give me the name and address of the insurance agent. I'll get a check out to him today.”
“Couldn't you just call and give him your credit card number? The car is going to be ready this afternoon.”
It might be the reasonable thing to do, but Karla wasn't in the mood to be reasonable. “It's a check or nothing.”
“I have an audition tomorrow. How am I supposed to get there?”
“Take the bus.”
“The audition is in Burbank.”
“Then take a cab.”
“Do you have any idea how much that would cost?”
Karla exploded. “If it's important, you'll find a way.”
“It is important,” Grace said, a catch in her voice. “I'm trying for a part in the new James Bond movie, and my agent says I'm perfect for the role.”
“What time is the audition?”
“Eight-thirtyâin the morning. There's no way I can get there in time if I take the bus. And you know as well as I do that if I spend the money on a cab, I'll just have to be short somewhere else.”
Karla knew she was being manipulated yet couldn't come up with a reasonable way to extricate herself. What if this really was the audition that would give Grace the break she'd been looking for? Was she going to deny her the opportunity just to prove a point? “You're going to pay me back,” Karla said. “The day you get a job I expect a check for thirty-one dollars and twenty-five cents from you every week. I don't care what you have to give up to get it to me, I just want you to know that if I don't get the check from you, you'll never get another thing from me as long as I live.” It wasn't the first time she'd used threats with Grace, but this time she meant every word. Even knowing it was overkill, she couldn't resist adding, “I'm serious about this, Grace.”