The Last Visit

Jerry drove his rental car toward the driveway of his grandmother’s house at the end of the cul de sac. As one of the development’s original homes, there were no cross streets. Still revered as premium real estate in this county, he was amazed at how dilapidated and unsupported the real estate appeared.

“They still haven’t repaved the driveway” he thought irritated as he forgot to slow down where the asphalt cracks were particularly large. He pulled up behind his sister’s car parked outside the garage.

He sat for moment, trying not to overthink just how bad the next couple of days could be. Suitcase in hand, he climbed the four cement steps that also had not been repaired. He tried the back door, which was locked, so he banged loudly.

“Hey, easy there!” Jerry heard his sister’s voice which immediately made his mood worse.

“Why is the door locked?” he barked as he stepped inside the mud room.

“Hello to you too. Sorry to inconvenience you!” Roberta leaned against the kitchen door jamb, giving her brother a level look, then turned back to her task at hand.

“Why is everything broken here? Didn’t anyone think to fix anything?

“Jerry, I don’t live here either! If you want things fixed, feel free to step up! Put your stuff in the back bedroom. I’m working on lunch. Some of the neighbors are coming over soon.”

Roberta took a deep breath and spoke to Jerry’s back as he walked away. “Please try not to start a fight so you have an excuse to leave. You have to be here. We all have to be here. Please be Nice Jerry. I know he’s in there somewhere.” As he clumped up the stairs, she called out, hoping guilt would work “Grandma needs us all here.”

Red faced and grumbling, Jerry dragged his case up the rickety stairs to the bedroom facing east and saw that the bed was bare and blankets on the floor. “The bed isn’t even made!” he yelled.

“I know! The sheets are hanging on the line right now. They should be dry in time for me to make your bed before midnight, Cinderella.” Jerry ignored her sarcasm.

Jerry stomped back down to the kitchen. “Who’s coming over?” he demanded before realizing that he was the one picking a fight. “Sorry. Just sorry. I know that this is hard for everyone.”

“The Browns.” Roberta answered as she put a plate of sandwiches on the table that had already been set for four. Facing Jerry, she said “This IS hard on everyone, Jerry. Not just you. OK? I’m not going to put up with your mood. I don’t have the energy. No one wants to go through this, but we have to. Preferably together.”

“OK, but why the Browns?” Jerry simultaneously conceded and whined. “She will talk nonstop.”

“Because she called me and asked. She wants to know what the plans are. She can’t help herself. She will take care of everybody and everything if we let her. She truly is the best-hearted busy body that I have ever met, and you are going to be nice.” Roberta pointed her finger into Jerry’s chest. “I guarantee that she is going to show up with loaded arms and ready to do whatever we ask her to do.” A beat later she added with a grin “And Mr. Brown too. God love him.” Jerry had to chuckle as well. Jerry leaned against the counter and surveyed the pictures and knickknacks scattered around the kitchen. His eyes welled up. “What are we going to do with all of this stuff when she’s gone?”

“Divvy it out between family and friends, I guess. We need to find out if she wants to give away anything in particular. I know Amanda always loved her nutcracker collection. Is there something you want?”

“I don’t know. Maybe one of her candy dishes.”

“I think there are enough of those for all of the relatives,” Roberta laughed. Grandma’s love of butter mints was evident with a filled crystal dish of ancient candy in every room in the house.

“OK, I’m going to go outside and see if I can do anything in the yard. Does the garage door work?”

“I think so. I didn’t bother to try it since I parked outside.”

Jerry stepped out the back door and scanned the view. “It is really peaceful here” he said aloud then realized gratefully that Roberta was not within earshot. He had avoided coming back to their hometown for years. Self-diagnosed borderline personality disorder was his go-to reason. Ambivalent family members called it a convenient excuse for dont-want-to-ness.

He walked over to the clothes lines in the side yard. Four rows of flat and fitted sheets were flapping gently in the breeze. “She’s been busy” Jerry thought and vowed to try to be more helpful during this trip. He touched one of the sheets and then another.

“Oh my God” he sighed as he breathed deeply into the scent of sun and outdoors and clean cotton and childhood. “Wow.” Memories of kids playing hide and seek between the sheets, lying in bed on fluffy pillows, looking out at the stars peeking between the branches of the weeping willow from the back bedroom window flitted through the back of his mind.

Roberta called through the kitchen window “Are those sheets dry?”

Jerry felt a couple and called back “Yeah, I think they are.”

“Would you pull them down and bring them in? Put the clothes pins in the basket.”

“What basket…” Jerry yelled, irritated that he didn’t know where the basket was until he turned and saw it nailed to the first post. “Oh.” Guilt pinched his inner curmudgeon as he pulled the sheets off the line.

Jerry carried the bundle of sheets into the house where Roberta was finishing lunch prep. “Just put them in your bedroom. I’ll make up the beds after lunch.”

“I’ll do it.”

Roberta stopped cold. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I make my bed at home. I know what I’m doing.”

Jerry climbed the stairs again to his assigned room, separating the sheets into three piles. Even though he had not slept in the house since his early twenties, he remembered which colored sheets belonged in what bedroom. Grandma was militant about coordinating sheets and blankets.

“Who is staying in Grandma’s bedroom?” Jerry called down the stairwell, automatically assuming Roberta was taking the other one.

“No one yet.” Roberta called back.

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t know how many are coming. I want to make sure we know which Jerry is showing up today.”

“Seriously??”

“Yup.” After a snarky beat, Roberta yelled back, “No, I’m just kidding.”

Biting words burned on the tip of his tongue, but Jerry stayed silent. He made the bed in his room then finished the other two rooms. He lingered for a couple of minutes in his grandmother’s bedroom, looking at the mementos of a life well lived: the intricate, threadbare quilt; frayed doilies; framed pictures, some black & white, some color; the music box that had long lost its windup key. He quietly closed the door and walked to the staircase. He looked up at the trap door that hid the stairs that led to his very favorite part of the house.

“Have you been in the attic recently?”

“No. I don’t think anyone has. God knows what is up there.”

Mentally noting to explore later, he went downstairs as knocks on the front door announced the lunch guests.

“I’ll get it.”

The Browns arrived, Mrs. Brown carrying a ceramic casserole dish and Mr. Brown balancing a very full grocery bag.

“Jerry! How are you?” Mrs. Brown blew a kiss as she was whisked by Jerry to carry her dish into the kitchen. “We brought you a few things since you’ll be feeding folks for a while.”

“A few things” Mr. Brown repeated with a smile. “Good to see you, Jerry. Let’s get these into the kitchen.”

“Can I help you with you that?”

“Oh, no. I’ve got this bag. There are a couple more in the car if you want to get them.”

The car door was open, so Jerry reached in to get the rest of the bags, which actually were more than a couple. Mr. Brown had already popped the trunk, also filled with cases of water, soda, and beer. Jerry grabbed as many bags as he could and climbed back up the front steps.

“I’m sorry I blocked the back stairs. Want me to pull up? You have a lot of groceries in the car. Are they all for us?”

Mrs. Brown looked shocked. “Of course they are! Your whole family is in town! It’s all portable. We can take it to the hotel or wherever everyone is going to be.”

Mr. Brown interjected “Don’t be silly. There aren’t that many bags. We can put the drinks in the basement.”

After the eight bags of food and three cases each of water, soda, and beer were stored in the refrigerator, pantry, and basement, they sat down for lunch.

Mrs. Brown took charge of the conversation. “Roberta, the table looks lovely. You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble. You just got here. When will your grandmother be admitted in the other wing of the hospital?”

“By noon tomorrow.” Roberta said.

“When is everyone else going to be in town? Where are they staying? Who is staying in the house?”

“Jerry and I are staying here. They didn’t want a lot of people in the house because we need to start going through Grandma’s things and getting organized. Mom and Dad are with Grandma right now.”

Mrs. Brown sniffled and wiped a tear. “I know that this must be so hard on you and your family. You have to let us help you out. If you need rides to the airport or the hospital or have errands, just let Chuck know. He’ll be happy to drive you wherever you want to go.”

Mr. Brown nodded obediently.

“Thank you, Mrs. Brown” Roberta replied. “Jerry and I rented cars, and Mom and Dad have theirs. I know the uncles will probably rent at least one, so we should be fully mobile, but I really appreciate your offer.”

“Where is everyone staying?”

“At the hotel near the hospital. Mom and Dad rented a room since they are 30 minutes out of town. We don’t think that she is going to be there very long, so they want to be close.” Roberta pushed her potato salad around on her plate but was not eating. “Why don’t you fill us in on what’s going on around here? You must have had a lot of rain because everything is so green.”

Permission granted, Mrs. Brown spent the next two hours enumerating the town’s summer activities and the high school boys’ shenanigans and the summer weddings and the rest of local gossip. Roberta gently got up to remove some empty dishes and refill iced tea glasses and offer a plate of brownies. Mr. Brown tuned out and ate contently while Jerry tried to appear to be interested.

Finally, Mrs. Brown had exhausted all the news that was worth repeating and turned to Mr. Brown “Chuck, we should be going now. We need to feed the dogs, and I want to go to the hotel to say hi to your folks if they are there before we go to Jenny’s house for Dougie’s birthday. He’s turning five!” Mrs. Brown beamed.

“Mrs. Brown, you are an inspiration. You are always on the go!” Roberta said as she gave Mrs. Brown a hug. “Thank you so much for all that you have done already!”

“Oh, my dear, it is our pleasure. This is the one thing we do right in our little town. We don’t always like each other, but neighbors step in for neighbors.”

With that, Mrs. Brown stood up, scanned the kitchen to make sure everything was put away, and headed toward the door. Mr. Brown also got up and whispered to Jerry, “We’ll be back to help you drink that beer. Make sure the picnic table is clear. I’ll bring some lawn chairs over tomorrow. I guarantee you’ll be having company.” Then he winked, patted Jerry on the shoulder, and followed Mrs. Brown.

After many hugs and goodbyes, Jerry and Roberta stood on the front porch waving to Mrs. Brown until she was no longer visible. “I’m already exhausted” Roberta said with a grin. “Well, it’s still early. Let’s take a walk to the creek” Jerry suggested. “I haven’t been there in forever.”

“That is a great idea.” Brother and sister, picking tall grass and wildflowers, followed the familiar path through the backyard and copse of apple trees to the dirt road that led to the woods and the path down to the creek bed. Recently fallen rain filled the creek, so the water gurgled and bubbled over shiny, slippery rocks. They walked for several hours, talking about past and present, old friends and new friends, and favorite Grandma stories that they laughingly deconstructed to make sure they had the details absolutely correct because the next couple of days would be filled with multiple versions and playful disagreements. Then they were quiet, thinking about the inevitable in the very near future.

Walking through the backyard in the late afternoon sunshine, footsteps audibly crunched the overgrown grass.

“I’m scared, Jerry.” Roberta said when they were close to the house.

“I am too. And really sad. Grandma was such a character but also our rock. What are we going to do without her?”

When they reached the weeping willow, Jerry had a thought.

“You know what? This is going to sound really ungrateful, but I’m not in the mood for anything that Mrs. Brown brought. I mean, there’s just about everything that we could possibly need, but I didn’t see any Canadian bacon.”

“Canadian bacon? Why do you want Canadian bacon?”

“To make Grandma’s famous egg sandwiches. And I didn’t see English muffins either.”

“Oh my gosh, I haven’t had one of those in years. What made you think of them?

“When I was taking down the sheets off the line, smelling those sheets made me think when we were kids and would spend weekends here. She’d make us breakfast for dinner because she knew that we would tattle to Mom and Dad. I think being subversive gave her joy.”

“She made us breakfast for dinner because Grandma loved breakfast for any meal!!”

“That is true. Bacon and syrup. The answer to any problem was a bacon sandwich.”

“Well, if we are going to get regular bacon too, then we have to make pancakes. Her pancakes were MY favorite.”

“Let’s do it. We’ll have all of the stuff if we need it. Mr. Brown said that we should be expecting company. Which is fine. I’d rather have a lot of people here, so I don’t have to be alone with my thoughts. Always dangerous.” Jerry squeezed his sister’s arm as he went inside the house.

After Jerry got his car keys and wallet, he asked “Do we need to lock the door?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why was the door locked when I got here?”

“I don’t know. Habit. I guess I forgot where I was.” she said as she opened her car door.

After Jerry started backing out, Roberta suddenly asked “What kind of wine goes with pancakes?”

Jerry blanked. “That is a random question. I don’t know. Champagne, I guess. We can make mimosas.”

“For brunch maybe, but I’m thinking for tonight.”

“Google it. Or just get what you want. I think I’m going to have some beers with my breakfast dinner. We’re at Grandma’s house, so Grandma’s rules.”

“Beers?”

“Beers.”

Roberta smiled and looked up at the two-story house with faded brown shutters and marigolds planted along the foundation as Jerry backed very slowly down the driveway.

Jerry startled Roberta out of her reverie. “Butter mints. We have to remember butter mints.”

“What?” Roberta said, confused.

“We need a list of what we’re getting. We can’t forget butter mints. I think Grandma would love them. Maybe they’ll help her remember.”

“Jerry, I don’t think Grandma can have that much sugar. We’ll have to see what the doctors say.”

“Roberta, she’s in hospice. If she wants butter mints, she is going to have some butter mints.”

Roberta just nodded in agreement. Hearing that word out loud in earshot of Grandma’s house was more than Roberta was prepared to handle. She looked out her window as the creek of tears gurgled and bubbled down Roberta’s cheeks.