It Grows On You...

The tan rotary phone rang in the study and Ethel Jean Charleston pushed her padded chair back from the table and set her Pinochle hand face down (even though she didn't have any company presently). "I'm coming," she called out to whomever it was on the other end of the ringing telephone. "Hold your horses." Hunched over and leaning on her cherry wood cane, she shuffled past the refrigerator, through the doorway and into the study. Pictures on the wall of a very Catholic-looking Jesus and Virgin Mother Mary greeted her with unwavering attention the moment she entered the study and continued to scan her paced movements across the room.

Her great-grandchildren always remarked about the "creepy" way the pictures' eyes seemed to follow them around wherever they attempted to hide. Though it never stopped them from trying.

Ethel nodded in respect and then fixed her eyes on the tall picture frame which stood propped up amidst an aloe vera plant and various flower pots on a small table nearby to where she now shuffled over toward the phone. "Well, hello, again, Abner, my love." The black and white photo showed a handsome old man donning a crisp Navy uniform adorned with bars and medals. Ethel spoke fondly to Abner as she inched closer to the incoming call. "Motor needs a tune-up, I expect, dear. Maybe just a few less gears in my transmission is all," she chuckled happily to Abner. Another padded chair was set next to a small paper-strewn desk, the tan phone vibrating a pen on a notepad with each ring as its long coiled cord hung twisted and dangling to the floor beneath it. With a sigh, and a bit of careful intention, she eased into the seat and lifted the receiver from its cradle.

"Hello?" Ethel pressed the receiver into her ear. Her hearing had also lost more than a few gears despite plenty of tune-ups over the decades.

"Hi, Grandma! It's Brooke!" She always felt so odd shouting at her grandmother but that's the only way Ethel would hear her, so she sharpened her tones and yelled brightly into the phone. "How is your day? I wanted to see if you needed anything since we're going by St. Benedict's later, and we can come see you afterward if you're up for some company."

"Oh, that's fine, Brooke. That would be wonderful," Ethel beamed. "I just finished my soup and I've got snickerdoodles in the oven, so maybe pick up some milk for the kids to have with them. I don't think there's enough left in the fridge. Oh! And can you pick up my marigold flowers from Sister Anne when you're at St. Bennie's? What a saint, that Sister Anne is. She told me she'd set two pots aside for me since I couldn't make it out to the bake sale fundraiser this weekend. She knows how much I love my flowers. And I know how much she loves my cookies! We call that a quid pro quo, Brookie." She chuckled, glancing toward the picture of her smiling Abner.

"You got it, GeeGee," Brooke laughed. "How's your hip replacement been treating you? Have you been able to get around okay? You know you can come stay with us for as long as you like. We worry about you, you know."

"Oh, thank you, dear. But I'm managing fine. The thing about all kinds of pain and discomfort is... Well, I guess it grows on you. We gain things, we lose them, we dream and hope and wish and some of it works out, some of it doesn't. The way I see it, the Good Lord is the Lord of all good, and if anything could have been better, it also could have been a lot worse. So you get used to it, and it grows on you. True, I'm past my sprinting days, but I still like to take my fair share of morning strolls from time to time. I even walked up the block last week to read in the garden at St. Bennie's. I used my sturdy new cane and brought my cushion to sit on the bench under those big beautiful Elm trees. I could just sit there and watch the sunlight dance over all those glorious marigolds for hours. Sister Anne even happened to come outside and we had a nice chat. That's when she offered to pot me up some marigolds so I can have a little bit of St. Bennie's garden at home for the days I don't quite feel up to a walk outside. Sweetest saint, that Sister Anne."

Ethel caught herself in her reverie and realized she'd been conversing with Abner for a while and redirected her attention back to Brooke on the other end of the line. "Anyway, thank Sister Anne and tell her I'm praying for her when you do see her, yes? And tell her she made my day indeed. Bless her heart and soul. What time should we expect you, then, Brookie?"

"You're amazing, Gram! I love you," Brooke exclaimed. "We can't wait to see you! We'll be there around one this afternoon. Call me if you think of anything else you need and we'll see you real soon, 'kay? Love you! Bye!"

"Love you too, sugarplum. I'll be here. Bye now." Ethel placed the receiver back in its cradle and shook her head at Abner's photo. "You still take my breath away, old man. Got me lost in my own world, I swear," she laughed.

Ethel pressed herself up out of the chair by the arms with a sigh, scooped up her cane from the desk and set off shuffling back across the study under the somber, watchful gaze of Jesus and Mary. Casting a glance upward, she smirked away at their unwavering seriousness. "Lighten up, you two, it's a lovely day." She could have sworn Jesus smirked in reply for a quick flash as she turned toward the kitchen. "Mind's missing a few gears altogether, Abner, I swear it," she giggled lightly as she returned to the dining table.

Settling into her padded chair, she studied the Pinochle spread awaiting her next turn and scrutinizingly retrieved her downturned hand from the place she'd left it earlier. Casting a suspicious glance to the empty chair on the right of her spot at the head of the table, she paused for a moment. "You didn't cheat while I was on the phone, did you, Ab?"

She heard his heartfelt reply. "Never, my dearest love. Never."