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Show 231 for a moment, and I miss everything," she complained in her thick Scottish brogue, her eyes fastening on Robbie. "Is that you, Walter?" Robbie turned his face away-and Sharon, too, felt the stab of pain. That knife of loss. But then Robbie hugged her, and she pecked him on the cheek, her head darting forward and back like a bird. "It's Robbie, Grandma," Peggy said loudly, "Walt's son. You remember Robbie." "Same difference," Granny said. "How are you, son? Last time I saw you was in the hospital. See there-I remember." She turned to the others. "See there-I remember." "Yes, Granny," Robbie said, "You sure look better now than you did then." Granny frowned, looking at him. "Speak louder-she can't hear you," Peggy explained. "You look more chipper," Robbie shouted at her, "than you did then!" "When?" "Then when I saw you last. At the hospital." "Well, I guess so," Granny said. "I reckon so. In the hospital there, why they all thought I was a goner. They all thought I was done for. That's what they all thought." A week after their father's funeral- Walter, her only son-she had suffered a heart attack, and everyone, indeed, had thought that she would die. But she had lived on, through three weeks of intensive care, and then six months of recovery in a county nursing home, where Sharon had visited her once. Her bed |
