When Abe Morris woke at ten-twenty, the house was deathly quiet. He stared around him curiously, as if he were seeing the room for the first time. Then something in the back of his brain shifted, and the familiar furniture and pictures and clothing snapped into place and he knew where he was and who he was.
But aren’t Ellen and Jay here? he wondered briefly. I was sure they came here.
He got up, feeling every savage bite of pain in his joints and bones. He dressed slowly, wishing that he could just remain in bed and sleep and dream, but knowing that for some reason he had to get up.
That’s it, Jay and Ellen are coming today for dinner. For…what was it, yes, Thanksgiving. The family all together for Thanksgiving.
He smiled.
Then the smiled faded. He looked down at the unruffled quilts and pillow on the far side of the bed.
Not the whole family. Sweet Mattie had been with him all night, but now he remembered that she was dead. Not the whole family.
Finally dressed, he opened the door and stepped into the hall. There was no one there.
Better hurry, he reminded himself. Lot’s to do before the kids get here.
He shuffled across the hall to the bathroom. Without noticing the crack of light beneath the closed door, he swung the door open.
“Grandpa!” a thin, high voice shrieked. The door slammed, almost catching Abe’s toe as it shut.
What who I thought they weren’t coming until later today that wasn’t Ellen who was that?
An arm surrounded him, enclosing him in a firm, tight grasp.
He looked up into Jay’s eyes.
Jay’s not that old Jay’s only twelve and Mattie’s not feeling well and I’m going to cook the Thanksgiving turkey myself this year why is Jay looking at me like that…
“Dad,” Jay said gently. “Dad, are you all right?”
Abe couldn’t find any words. Oh he knew well enough what he wanted to say: Why are you here and why are you so old looking and who is that little girl brushing her teeth in my bathroom and why did she slam the door in my face and call me Grandpa.
He knew what he wanted to say, but he simply couldn’t find the right sounds to say them.
“Nnnhh,” he began. His voice frightened him. It wasn’t his. The tongue pressing against teeth wasn’t his. The too-old Jay led Abe down the hall to the family room and started to help him settle onto the couch.
Click.
Everything slid into focus.
“Jay?”
“Dad, are you all right?”
“I’m…of course I’m all right.” And he was. Now he was, although he vaguely recalled being disoriented only moments before. Or was that part of the dreams? He wasn’t sure. But now he remembered Jay and Ellen coming yesterday, remembered sitting in the rocker and watching his sweet, lovely granddaughters and his fine, handsome young grandsons playing together, thinking how proud Mattie would be of all of them.
“I’m fine,” he repeated. He glanced around at the room, taking in the clumps of sleeping bags tossed in the corner. His eyes swept across the clock face.
“Oh no,” he said. “It can’t be that late. I was going to get up early and start cooking…”
“No you don’t,” Jay said firmly. “You sit right here.”
Abe melted back into the couch. It felt nice. A woman entered the room. He looked up at her curiously. She seemed familiar. She was… Damn, he had almost had it there for a moment. He looked more closely at her. She was…she was Linda. Of course. Linda. Jay’s wife. Abe shook his head and sighed. It was so hard to remember things anymore. Everything seemed to get all mixed up some days. Other days, he was fine. Those were the days he when he would call Jay and Ellen and the grandkids on the telephone-no use getting them all worried because he was occasionally forgetful.
“…Not another word about it.” Linda’s voice.
“Huh,” Abe said. He caught Linda’s expression as she glanced quickly over to Jay.
“Dad, you’re not cooking anything. You’re just going to relax. We’ll pull the turkey out of the oven after Linda makes reservations for us all at a restaurant this afternoon. That’ll be nice, Thanksgiving dinner without any dishes to do or mess to clear up. Right?”
Abe was going to answer, was going to insist that he felt fine, that he could cook up a dinner like Jay wouldn’t believe-but just then the front door swung open and Ellen and Mitch and the boys trooped in. Abe thought there was a long moment of cold silence when Ellen’s eyes met Jay’s. Too bad the kids never really learned to get along, he thought. Matty was always disappointed about that.
Jay crossed over and said something to Ellen, then stood in front of Thad for a long while. Abe could see Jay’s lips moving, could even hear his voice, but the sounds didn’t make any sense. The boy listened intently, his ears and cheeks suddenly flaming. He nodded once, then Jay reached out and gave the boy a hug. At first, the boy seemed horribly stiff, almost frightened, as if terrified of his own uncle. Why? After a moment, though, Thad raised his arms and hugged his uncle in return.
That’s more like it, Abe thought. A family that really loves each other.