[FICTION] Grandma's Greatest Gift

I bury my head in my lap, cupping my hands loosely over my ears to muffle the shrill voices that wash over me.

“Grandma loved me the best. I should get it.” My cousin Stacie’s sharp voice cuts through the thin layers of flesh, bone, and tendon curled around my ears.

“You’re delusional. I’m her favorite.” My sister Kirsten’s equally sharp voice grates on my nerves enough to make me leap from my perch on the edge of the bed.

The movement turns both sets of sharp, greedy eyes to me. I freeze, realizing my mistake as they exchange looks and turn back to me grinning.

“We’ll let Bella decide.” Kirsten offers, stepping toward me.

I shake my head and slide along the edge of the bed toward the door.

“That’s a great idea.” Stacie blocks my egress.

I glance back at the bed, which rests against the wall. No exit there. I sigh and cross my arms, sinking back onto the soft mattress.

“I’m not involved in this. Our mom’s can sort it out.”

“No way!” They exclaim as one.

I sigh again. “Why should I decide?”

The girls glance toward the locked jewelry box that holds the object of their desire, an antique gold chain from which dangles a ball formed of tiny diamonds set in a golden framework.

“Because we all know you don’t want it.”

I frown and stand up. “Why not?”

“Well, you’re not exactly a girl.” Kirsten says and they both snicker.

My lips form a tight line as I push my way through the weak wall of shrill, selfish girls. “I’m going to talk to mom about it.” I fire over my shoulder as I step into the hall.

“Oh come on, Bella.” Kirsten tries to take my arm, offering me a conspiratorial smile.

I shake off her slender fingers. “No. I don’t want to hear it.” I pick up speed as I reach the door. The other girls continue to plead with me as I bound down the steps.

“Girls, stop that. This instant!” My mother and aunt Flora round the corner of the stairwell, glaring up at me.

“Bella, I should have known.” Flora’s thin lips sneer as she glares up at me and shakes her head.

I slow down, taking composed, calculated strides to the bottom of the stairs as my sister and cousin push each other toward the top of the stairwell. Seeing our mothers observing them from below, they step away from each other and hurriedly smooth black skirts with boney hands. They smile angelically and slowly join me. We patiently wait while our mothers survey us, struggling to keep from twitching with the excitement and frustration coursing through us.

My mother is the first to break the silence. “What is this all about?”

“Grandma’s diamond globe necklace.” I blurt out.

Sharp fingers stab into my back on both sides. I glance at my sister who narrows her eyes at me. Her nose flares with suppressed annoyance. I don’t bother to glance at Stacie. I’m sure her face reflects my sister’s unkind emotions.

My mother and aunt exchange looks. My aunt nods as if agreeing with a question asked during their locked gaze. My mother turns her attention back to us, clearing her throat. “Your aunt and I have decided that Kirsten, as the oldest, will get that necklace. We have also already decided who gets each piece of jewelry, so stop fighting.”

My aunt nods agreement, surveying us one more time. “Now go find something constructive to do. There is plenty to clean.”

As they turn away, Stacie gives me a hard jab in the stomach with her elbow. Kirsten pats me on the back.

“Thanks, sis.”

I frown and turn away, making a beeline for the back door. As the door closes behind me, I take in a deep breath and glance over my shoulder. My cousin and sister have disappeared, searching for something else to argue over. Assured that I am alone, I slowly lower myself to the cold concrete stair and let the tears I’ve been holding back cascade over my cheeks.

*

I’m back in my grandmother’s house. She’s not really dead. She can’t be. The rich sweetness of cinnamon crumble coffee cake turns the air to sweet bliss. Only my grandmother knew how to make that particular ambrosia. I inhale again and step forward to offer her a hug. She turns toward me and puts up her hands. Blood runs down them, dripping on the floor.

I scream and turn away.

“Don’t worry. You can help me clean it up.” Her voice cracks bust her smile remains as gentle and sweet as ever.

She reaches for me. Even before she touches me, streaks of blood spread across my skin. I stare down at them as my flesh seems to melt away, revealing black ooze undulating along my bones. As unbearable pain sinks into the core of my being, I scream. My grandmother laughs and I scream again. Her laughter turns to a cackle and I look up to see the same viscous darkness consuming her features.

I scream again. Silently.

*

I sit up and open my eyes. One hand reaches up to touch my moist cheek, but I keep the other where I can see that pale flesh still stretches gently to cover bone, sinew, and muscle. After a few seconds, I lower both hands. I take a few deep breaths as my eyes adjust to the gentle glow coming through the thin curtains of my bedroom.

“You’re alone. Everything is okay.” I whisper softly.

I open my eyes wider, filling them with the reassuring images of my room. “It was just a dream.”

“Yes. It was.” My grandmother’s voice reassures me and I swear my heart stops beating.

I close my eyes and open them again, turning toward the voice. Standing at the side of my bed, my grandmother smiles down at me.

“You’re not real.” I tell her.

“Of course, I am.” She continues to smile.

“That can’t be.”

She nods slowly, understandingly. “It can only be because I need your help.”

“My help?” My jaw tightens as I force out the words.

“The globe necklace that you girls all loved so much has to go to my best friend. She’ll know why.”

“But my mother said…”

“I know who has it, but she shouldn’t have it. It was meant for Jeannie.

“If Jeannie doesn’t get that necklace, I can’t pass over. I’ll have to be with you forever, for everything you ever do.” She smiles that all-knowing smile that could turn even the most hardened criminal to moldable clay.

I nod my head. “I’ll do my best.”

“Her name is Jeannie Lemmin.”

I nod again but can’t find the strength to speak again.

“Thank you.” She disappears.

I continue to watch the place where she stood as I slowly lower myself to the pillow. I think sleep will elude me after that, but I wake up to find my mother shaking me roughly.

“Bella, what is wrong with you? Wake up.”

“What?” I ask groggily.

“It’s almost noon. Why are you still in bed.”

I force my eyes open and find her worried face inches from my own. A million thoughts dance through my head. Should I tell her? My heart leaps inside me, overladen with the loss of my grandmother and last night’s dreams. I decide to tell her if only to hear her tell me that it was just a dream.

“Mom, did grandma ever talk about someone named Jeannie Lemmin?”

My mother freezes. Her nails dig into my arms. She scans my face questioningly.

“Where did you hear that name?”

“From Grandma…”

“She would never tell you about Jeannie. She only told me about her once.”

As my mother pauses, I ask. “Who is she?”

“She used to be your grandmother’s best friend.” My mother whispers as she loosens her grip on my arms and settles back on the foot of my bed.

I slowly push myself into a sitting position. I lean toward my mother and whisper. “Then why have I never heard of her?”

My mother purses her lips. “They had a falling out about the man your grandmother loved before your grandfather.”

“Oh.” My breath rushes out of me. Maybe, I hadn’t really known my grandmother.

My mother nods as if agreeing with my thoughts. “Even after your grandmother and grandfather were married, she never spoke to Jeannie again. I think Jeannie must have tried once. That’s when I hear about it, but why are you asking about her?”

I tried to explain. The more I spoke, the paler my mother’s face got. When I ran out of words, we sat in silence.

Finally, my mother took my hand. “I’ll handle your sister, but you’ll have to go alone to speak to Jeannie.”

I nodded my assent, not daring to speak for fear of releasing the tears I saw pooling in my mother’s eyes.

*

“Jeannie Lemmin?”

She smiles at me. “That’s me, dear.” She places a finger gently to her lips as she contemplates my face. “Have we met? You do look familiar.”

“No, ma’am. We’ve never met.” My voice gets soft. “You knew my grandmother, Dotty Lynch.”

The smile fades from her face as she looks at me more closely. She doesn’t speak. She slowly lowers her hand and clutches it tightly with the other as we stand in silence.

I clear my throat and reach into my pocket. “She wanted you to have this.”

She slowly raises her hand and I lower the globe gently, watching the chain gently coil into her wrinkled palms as she gazes down at it.

“She forgave me.” Tears flood her cheeks, sending rivers down the deep laughter lines along her thin cheeks. “She really forgave me?”

I shrug. “She said you would understand.”

She nods, tears pouring more profusely down her cheeks. “I do. I do. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” As the words leave my lips, warmth suffuses my body.

My grandmother’s voice seems to echo her friend. I look around expecting to see her, but I stand alone on the porch.

Jeannie smiles at me. “Would you like to come in?”

I shake my head but my feet lead me forward into the cozy living room.

“Let me tell you about your grandmother when she was young. You have her eyes…”