Leota's Garden (61 page)

Maybe if she’d spoken up, maybe if she’d defended herself instead of keeping silent . . . Silence didn’t always bring peace. Allowing someone to behave disrespectfully more often made them rude and demanding of others.

I thought I was letting Eleanor vent her frustration and that would be the end of it. Instead, her life has been focused on discontent and disappointment. I would love to be able to go back and sit down with her when she was a little girl and teach her all over again. I’d say, “This is what’s happening. This is the truth. This is what needs to be done. Join forces with me and your grandmother and grandfather and let’s work together to keep this family together!”

Instead, she had tried to do it alone.

For what? For the glory? To be a martyr? To show herself how much better she was than poor Helene Reinhardt, who had to piece together the whole sorry mess by herself without any help from Leota or Papa?

Lord, forgive me.

Leota heard Eleanor and Annie talking.

“Why is Mother crying?” Eleanor was asking quietly, sounding uncomfortable.

“The stroke makes it difficult to contain her emotions,” Annie said just as quietly.

They were acting as though her hearing had failed along with her ability to walk without clinging to someone or something!
Oh, Lord, You have frustrated me! I can’t talk clearly enough to make myself understood. Except by Annie. She’s just like a young mother who understands the gibberish of her toddling child. And that’s what I’ve become. Blabbering what I can while I hang on to my walker. Lord, I’d yell at You for allowing this to happen to me if I didn’t think Eleanor and George would think I was crazy and make sure I was put away for good!

A VCR. For heaven’s sake, what was George thinking? And now Fred was offering a television. Along with the box of chocolates Eleanor was trying to hide on the side table.
I wonder if she thinks I have adult-onset diabetes . . . and she’s going to kill me with kindness.
Sadly, Leota could guess why they were being so generous all of a sudden. Would they be so munificent if they knew everything was already settled and filed with an attorney?

I’m not being fair. I’m wallowing in self-pity and making myself sick! I know Jeanne. And I know Fred. And they are both good and generous people. It’s my children who can’t see past themselves!

Lord, I can’t think this way. For Annie’s sake, I have to lift my chin up and take whatever comes. But I’ll tell You this. I’m tired of turning the other cheek. In fact, I’m sick to death of it.

Things didn’t get easier for Leota as the day wore on. In fact, things became more complicated. Corban didn’t like Eleanor, and he made no effort to hide his feelings. Annie tried to make conversation, but only Fred helped keep it going. Then Sam and Susan arrived, and Eleanor’s hackles went up. She was like a German shepherd with a salesman trapped on the front porch; it was a sight to see. Sam couldn’t blink an eye without Eleanor observing the nuance. He certainly wasn’t making his feelings a secret, either. Every time he looked at Annie, the expression on his face declared,
I’m in love with this girl.
All of which only served to madden Eleanor all the more.

Lin Sansan Ng, Do Weon, and Kim stopped by, and not long after came Juanita, Jorge, Marisa, Elena, and Raoul.

Eleanor kept moving down the sofa until she was squeezed into a corner, and while Fred joined in the general conversation, Eleanor moved herself all the way to the outside edge of the family circle.

“Chris said to thank you for the information you gave him the other day,” Juanita told Annie. “He said the group sounded the most hopeful. Miles is declining rapidly.”

Eleanor looked at Annie. “Who are Chris and Miles?”

“They live in the house four doors down on the other side of the street,” Annie explained. “Miles is very sick.”

“AIDS,” Juanita said sadly.

Leota saw Eleanor blanch. She could just imagine what was going on in Eleanor’s mind.
Her
daughter, Annie, was living in a mixed-race ghetto with an old lady on her last legs, who would linger for who knew how long, and now, her innocent little girl was mixing with homosexuals as well!

“AIDS?” Eleanor stared.

“Annie met them a few weeks ago.”

Eleanor’s gaze swung to Annie, fierce with silent demand.

“They’re estranged from their families. Miles is dying, Mother. I don’t agree with their lifestyle, but they are neighbors and they need our help.”

“Your hands are full already, Anne-Lynn. All day, every day, for who knows how long.”

Annie blushed. Her eyes became fierce with warning. “I fix extra portions and take them dinner a couple of times a week. It’s no big deal.”

Leota couldn’t allow this to go on. “I gave Annie permission to do it.” Miraculously, her words were clear enough for Eleanor to understand.

Eleanor lunged forward so that she sat on the edge of the sofa, her hands like open claws on her knees. “It’s all very well for
you
to be magnanimous at Annie’s expense, Mother. You’re over eighty. You’ve lived a full life. Don’t you care what risks
my daughter
takes? It’s not enough that she’s living here with you in this crime-infested neighborhood, but you put her in contact with AIDS!”

“Mother!”

Leota used every ounce of willpower she possessed not to cry. Crying would only make things a hundred times worse. Besides, she understood Eleanor’s fierceness. Hadn’t she felt the same way about her children when Mama Reinhardt was dividing their loyalties?

Is that what I’ve done, Lord?

Annie stood stricken, looking back and forth as the battle raged around her. The poor girl was standing between the two firing lines, not sure where to find safety. It was always the innocent who were killed.

“What’s not right?” Corban’s face flushed with temper as he stared at Eleanor. “That, unlike you, Annie has a heart? That, unlike you, she’s capable of loving someone else more than herself?”

“Now, just a minute!” Fred rose suddenly, like a knight in shining armor to shield his wife.

Eleanor aimed her animosity at Corban. “This is none of your
business! Who
are
you anyway? What do you think you’re going to get by coming over here and kissing up to my mother?”

Corban’s face turned dark red. “It seems to me it’s none of your business either, Mrs. Gaines. You bowed out of Leota’s life a long time ago, and Annie’s an adult. She can make her own decisions.”

“Stop it!”
Annie covered her face and started to cry. “Just stop it! All of you.” She fled to the kitchen.

Eleanor’s face convulsed briefly. To anyone else, it was just a flicker, but Leota saw straight into her hurting child. It was like a crack in a concrete wall around a garden. Just a second’s glimpse—but she saw that a storm had ripped away at the landscape.
Oh, my child, my poor child.
Then the mortar of old resentments was poured in to repair the wall. Leota could feel Eleanor’s gaze fix upon her in accusation. “Maybe this gathering wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

Corban’s eyes flashed. “Maybe the list should’ve been cut by two!” He followed Annie into the kitchen. Embarrassed, Juanita quickly gathered her children, as did Lin Sansan. They went out through the kitchen, making their exit quietly. Leota knew they would make apologies to Annie before leaving.

Oh, God, my family, my precious family. Help us. We are torn asunder. The enemy has laid waste to us.

Sam sat in stony silence, his eyes on fire. Susan’s chin jutted, tears running down her face, her eyes fixed on Eleanor. “Why do you always do this to Annie? For as long as I’ve known her, she’s worked so hard to win your approval.
Nothing
pleases you.”

“That’s not true.” Eleanor was trembling—Leota saw it in her hands, heard it in her voice. All eyes were on Eleanor now. It was ever thus.
As you sow, so shall you then reap.
The one condemning the loudest eventually received the condemnation. Water didn’t run uphill, and Eleanor was drowning.

Helpless to do anything and unable to watch, Leota turned her face to the wall and wept.

The pains Leota had felt off and on over the past two years came again that night. She didn’t ring the little bell Annie had put on her side
table. She couldn’t bear the thought of summoning Annie after such a devastating Christmas Day. The poor girl had wanted everything to be perfect. She had worked so hard, prayed so long. Now she needed rest. The pain eased by morning.

When Annie came in, Leota said she wanted to sleep longer. Annie looked troubled and asked questions, but Leota lied and said everything was fine. She said she had been having such a wonderful dream.

She couldn’t bring herself to add to her granddaughter’s misery by telling her that something was very, very wrong.

Chapter 23

Annie noticed the change in her grandmother in the days following Christmas. She was always restless, shifting her body every minute or two as though no position was comfortable. Though Grandma had often been cranky since the stroke, she was more cranky than usual. Either her speech had improved greatly, or Annie was getting used to it and could more easily understand her. At first, it was funny the way Grandma Leota would talk at the television, telling the news commentator what was wrong with his shortsighted, canned presentation or that his views were “idiotic.” It was when Grandma started talking cremation that Annie became alarmed. Annie tried to turn her conversation away from death, but Grandma Leota was fixed upon it. “Put me in the bulbs. They need bonemeal.”

Annie called the doctor despite Grandma Leota’s protests.

“I won’t go!” Grandma Leota said, chin jutting. She was irascible, but Annie couldn’t pretend everything was all right this time.

“Oh, yes, you will. Something’s wrong, Grandma. I want the doctor to check you over.”

“Nothing’s wrong!”

“You’re in pain! I know you are. You try to hide it from me, but I can tell.”

Grandma tried charm, smiling and patting Annie’s hand. “It’s just my arthritis, sweetheart. I’m not a green sprout anymore. I’m ripe and ready for plucking.”

Annie refused to give in. “The doctor might be able to give you something to make you more comfortable.”

“I won’t go! I won’t! You’ll have to carry me out of this house!”

Annie called Corban. He came the next morning, ignored Grandma Leota’s vehement protests and downright abuse, lifted her from her wheelchair, and carried her out to Annie’s car.

“It’s a good thing her right arm is useless,” Corban said, straightening. “I think she’d’ve given me a black eye.”

Nora knew something was wrong when she heard the back door from the garage open. Fred never came home this early in the day. “What is it? What’s happened?”

“Annie called me at the office. Your mother is in the hospital again.”

Nora’s heart sank. Was this the way it was going to be from here on? Her daughter unable to speak to her? Her daughter calling Fred so he could relay messages? “Another stroke?”