Page 20 of Grounded (May Hollow Trilogy #1)

Beulah sipped her coffee, trying to figure out what was different. She had told Annie how many scoops to put in the percolator basket, but it seemed much stronger. Personally, she always liked strong coffee, but it seemed a waste to run through a can too fast.

Sitting on the edge of her twin bed brought down from the spare bedroom upstairs, Beulah looked around her new bedroom, amazed at the miracle Annie and Jake had worked in only a couple of hours Sunday afternoon.

They moved her sewing machine and table upstairs along with all the material and other supplies and moved the bed, nightstand, Bible and a lamp down the steps.

Some of her clothes were now in the small closet where yards of material used to be, and lickety-split, she had a bedroom on the first floor.

Thank heavens Fred had the foresight to add a full bathroom onto the closed-in back porch when Annie entered her teenage years.

He had taken to using that one, giving Beulah and Annie full control of the upstairs bathroom.

Knowing Fred, he had probably also been thinking it would be a handy addition for their senior years, although he never said as much.

Last Sunday was the first time Beulah had missed church in years.

Church attendance wasn’t compulsory to being a Christian, Beulah knew that, but it was like the hand being separated from the arm: Missing church just didn’t feel right.

However, it was awful nice to rest, and what with the funny way those pain pills made her feel, it was better not to be in the church house and saying things a body wouldn’t normally say.

Thinking of arms, Annie had become those for her these last couple of days. Arms and legs.

“Thank you, Lord,” Beulah said the words out loud from an overflow in her heart. “What would I have done without her?”

Her granddaughter had called the surgeon on Monday and made her an appointment for later in the week.

She must have worked some magic with the doctor’s office.

First they said it would be a couple of weeks, but Annie offered to bring her any time, even if it was a last-minute cancellation, and sure enough, they called back and changed it to Friday morning.

In the meantime, Annie had asked them about something to help Beulah walk until the surgery. They ordered her a brace, which, aggravating as it was, did steady her quite a bit.

Beulah reached for it, trying to remember how all those pieces of Velcro worked. Positioning her knee just so, she put the brace around it and studied which piece went in which loop. She heard the screen door slam and tried to hurry, not wanting Annie to think her a helpless old fool.

“Land sakes,” she muttered when she missed threading a strap through a particular loop. “Looks like an ACE bandage would do as good.”

“Need help?” Annie asked, popping around the corner.

Beulah sat up and sighed. “I reckon I’ll get the hang of this thing, but you might need to show me again.”

“It goes like this,” Annie said, flipping the brace around so the straps fit easily into the loops. “You had it backward. Now, all finished.”

Annie stood up and handed Beulah her cane.

“Thank you.” Beulah steadied herself and hobbled toward the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

“Thought I’d make Ms. Hawkins a chicken casserole and coconut cream pie. She’s been here over a week, and we haven’t heard a peep out of her.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“I just can’t get her out of my mind. All hunch-shouldered and looking like the weight of the world was on her. It might be a way to check on her.”

“Sure you’re up to that?” Annie asked. Beulah could hear the doubt in her voice.

“I’ll take it slow. You go on back to doing whatever you were doing,” Beulah said, determined to take back control of her kitchen. Annie turned her face away, but not before Beulah saw the start of a grin.

“Okay. I’ll be outside cleaning out the shed if you need me.”

Before getting her hands on the chicken, Beulah peeked inside at the percolator basket, trying not to burn her fingers.

“Law have mercy!” she exclaimed. The basket was two-thirds full. “No wonder that coffee was strong.”

With a deep sigh, she replaced the basket top and the percolator lid. It’s worth it to have Annie home, she thought.

With old recipes she knew by heart, her mind was free to muse over the strange vision in the garden a few days ago.

It was as if she had a visit from Jo Anne for a few moments, more vivid than any dream.

Maybe it was only the combination of heat and pain in her knee, but it was as real to her as the ground beneath her feet.

Of all places to see Jo Anne, the garden would be the spot.

Her passion was growing things, and she would have felt plumb left out to look down from heaven and see both Beulah and Annie planting together.

Beulah slid the dishes in the oven and sat down, thinking of her precious girl, gone these many years.

How time had gone by. Jo Anne died on July 15, coming up on twenty years.

She never allowed herself to ask why it had to be Jo Anne.

If a body starts asking why the bad things, then you have to ask why the good to be fair.

Why did she have good health for seventy-odd years?

Why did they live in this beautiful countryside with food and with shelter over their heads?

Why had she married the finest man in all of the Bluegrass when she was only eighteen?

There would be no end to that line of thinking.

When Annie came in to clean up, she said she would ride over with Beulah and carry the food to Ms. Hawkins’s door. The uneven flagstone steps to the front door of the stone house were hard to manage, even for a person with good knees.

“I’m ready,” Beulah called upstairs.

“Be right down,” Annie called back. In a few minutes Annie came down the steps in faded jeans and a blue T-shirt, carrying old pictures in her hand.

“Look at these,” she said, and moved next to Beulah to look at the pictures with her. “Here we are with Mom in front of the stone house.”

Beulah looked at it. “That must have been taken right about the time Jo Anne was diagnosed.”

“Here’s one with you and Grandpa, Evelyn, and Charlie, taken on Evelyn’s front porch. You’re all dressed up and wearing corsages.”

Beulah knew immediately when that was taken.

“We were celebrating our anniversaries. It was our fortieth and Evelyn and Charlie’s twentieth. We both married in October, twenty years apart.”

“And there’s another one of Jake and me, sitting on the plank fence by the corral. We must have been about ten.”

“Now that’s a rare picture. You two were never still long enough to get many pictures.”

“I’d love to get these copied and framed.”

“Wyatt’s Drug Store does a good job on film development. It’s right downtown near Duncan’s Hardware.”

“Good! I’ll take them next time I’m in town.” Annie carried the casserole wrapped in dish towels, still warm from the oven. Beulah carried the pie.

“Grandma, I can take it over there by myself if you don’t feel like going.”

“Heavens, no. I want to get out as much as I can while I can. I’ll be confined soon enough.”

In a minute or two, Annie was pulling into the drive to the stone house and crossing the wooden bridge of the creek.

The silver car was there. Blankets still covered the windows, like Annie said.

Why would this woman want to be shut up in a dark house on a sunny day like this?

Beulah didn’t know a thing about how a person wrote a book. Maybe this was what it took.

Annie got the casserole dish in one arm and the pie in the other and carried them to the house.

She had to set one down to knock on the door.

Beulah noticed movement in one of the upstairs windows as if someone had peeked out.

She watched as Annie knocked again. Another minute went by and finally, the door opened a crack.

Annie was speaking through the door opening and trying to hand the food to her.

The opening widened and she saw Stella Hawkins accept the dish and the pie.

Annie smiled at the woman, but the door was shut in her face as soon as Annie let go of the dishes. She turned back and raised her eyebrows at Beulah when she walked to the car.

“What was that all about?” Beulah asked when Annie got in.

Annie started the car and backed out. “I don’t think she appreciates Southern hospitality. She said she was busy right now.”

“Law, law,” Beulah mused. “I’ve never heard of a body not appreciating home-cooked food. I guess she’s not sick.”

“What is that?” Annie said, slowing the car on the other side of the bridge.

Beulah peered at the tree Annie pointed to. There was a small brown square with a round circle in the middle nailed to an old oak. Annie stopped the car when she got across the bridge and got out to look.

Beulah waited on her to come back, wishing she could jump out and do things like she used to.

In the rearview mirror, she could see Annie looking at the strange piece of plastic with what looked like a small antenna stuck on top.

Annie didn’t touch it, and Beulah noticed she was careful to stay on the side of it.

“What is it?” Beulah asked when Annie got back in the car.

“I think it might be a sensor that beeps when someone passes through. That’s what it looks like anyway.”

“I swan,” Beulah said. “You mean it beeps in her house when somebody comes into the driveway?”

“Yep. Maybe Stella wants a warning. She might be a little afraid out here by herself. In fact, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to have one. It would give you time to load your shotgun.”

Beulah cut a sharp look at Annie and saw the grin on her face. She laughed.

“Well, you might be right about that. I might discover the first good use of all this technology.”