When the Leaves Stop Falling

Chapter 8

Grams had dismissed herself politely from dinner, and for the first time in Austin's memory, left him the dishes to clean up. From there she had gone quietly into her room down the long hall upstairs, and made not another sound. Worry ate at his gut. Grams was far from frail, had seen her share of grief and lived on, but health was temporary, and so he worried.

She had handled the news well. Too well. He'd fumbled for the right words since Serena had called him, going over and over again what he would say to Grams. She merely nodded her head. Her thin mouth, which was rarely without a smile, had been set firm. Her only sign of weakness had been when she'd stood and placed a shaking hand on the dining table she insisted they use, even when it was just the two of them.

Austin rubbed a hand over his bare chest and headed toward the large kitchen, the cuffs of his low-riding jeans scuffing along the floorboards. Doing the dishes would be a welcomed distraction, and then he just might head to Jake's and drink himself into a stupor.

Jake. The memories he and his sister collected through the years were fond and too many for the counting. They would spend hours, days even, behind Grams' house, doing whatever children do in their youth. The three acres she had left after selling most of it to Jake was virtually untouched, except for her gardens stretched through the center of the estate.

He meticulously washed each dish and rinsed it off. Maybe he'd clean the house tonight, needing the distraction from his sister and whoever this woman was traveling with her.

Serena thought someone had hurt this Courtney person before, said she was real jumpy. He wondered if the woman's husband was after her, if it was a spousal abuse situation. The guilt in his stomach spread as he remembered how selfish he'd acted when she'd called. He didn't even listen to her, just yelled at her for picking up some stranger that they would have to baby-sit.

It wasn't like Serena to turn her back on someone who needed it, and he would do anything to make his beloved sister happy in these last months. If Serena didn't think this stranger was dangerous, then he would take her word for it and trust her. Serena had a big heart. It was good she'd found someone, a friend. Conceivably, this woman could help Serena to not take on so much at once. Even just being there, being a crutch, would be welcome.

Drying his hands, he shuffled toward the library to do some dusting. He made a point to walk through the sitting room to make sure the fire had been put out in the fireplace. Grams loved to have a fire going almost every night, whether it was summer or the dead of winter. "It makes the house more welcome," she'd say.

It was Serena's favorite room. She was sitting on the floor now, in his memory. She had her paints scattered out in front of her, creating whatever masterpiece was in her head. The fire had been blazing, making the little bit of auburn in her dark tresses come out.

Heaving a sigh, he backtracked and pushed through the double doors down the front hall. This was getting insane. It was becoming harder and harder to think of her as she was now, a grown woman. His mind would regress back to how she'd been as a child, when they were both children, and he needed to stop. Growling, he slammed the door of his sanctuary behind him and leaned against it.

The library was his pride and joy. A few years ago, he and Jake restored all the old cherry wood and had new shelves put in from wall to wall. The dark burgundy room held little furnishings except for a large leather back chair of chocolate brown in the heart of the room, with an end table in the very wood as the shelves. His desk, which he rarely used out of principle, was against the far corner and faced the door. The chandelier was lead crystal, hung in the center of the twenty foot ceiling. A solitary window faced the back of the house, on the main floor, and right into Gram's gardens. If he pulled open the floor length drapes, twenty acres would span out in panoramic glory. He would see the three of them running around the plantation as kids, so he kept them closed.

He decided he needed to stay busy or when he stopped he would break down and lose it. Serena and Grams needed him to be strong.

With more concentration than necessary, he removed every book and wiped down each shelf. He sorted through the papers on his desk, and with much disappointment, found everything was in order at home. It would have been a welcomed distraction if there were bills to concentrate on or tax forms to go over.

After three hours, at last he felt the exhaustion and welcomed it. Shutting off the lamp on his desk, he turned to retreat upstairs and bumped directly into Grams. Biting back an oath, as he never swore around her out of respect, he detained her shoulders at arms length to hold her steady.

"What are you doing up?"

The smile didn't reach her eyes as she looked up at him, the top of her head not quite kissing his shoulders. "I couldn't sleep, as I imagine you couldn't either."

He blew out a breath and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and left his cheek to rest there as he held her close. Her hair was salt and pepper, which Austin assumed had never been cut. If she let it out of the loose knot she usually kept it in, the length would sweep long past the center of her back in a smooth, soft wave. She smelled of fresh soap, and it comforted him to know some things never changed.

"I'll make us some tea."

She didn't argue at being pampered, and Austin figured she was too tired. He assisted her into one of the kitchen chairs at the small table and turned to find the kettle. "Green or black tea, Grams?"

"Green, dear. Thanks."

He kept his back to her and nodded, filling the pot. Before turning around he took effort to erase the worry lines from his forehead. Skimming a hand across his chest, he wondered how to politely tell her to go to bed and not fret anymore, knowing he wasn't able to manage that task either. Women were better suited at managing emotions, and he was man enough to admit it.

"You do that when you're thinking about her, or feel guilty."

"Do what?" The tea kettle screeched and he shifted to the stove. He poured the hot water into cups for them while reaching above him in the cabinet for the tea bags.

"Stroke your chest." She waited a few beats and adjusted her peach colored satin nightgown. "It's not your fault, you know."

Sighing, he walked to the small table and set down the cups. "I know."

"Do you?" She peered at him with such concentration he squirmed under her gaze and closed his eyes. "I wonder sometimes."

"I know it's not my fault she's sick, Grams, but I can't help but wonder why it wasn't me. We shared the same womb, the same birthday. Why her?"

"God has His reasons, dear. Sometimes it's hard to understand. Besides, asking "why me" implies it should be happening to someone else." She patted his hand in her old comforting way, warmth and love seeping from the embrace. She never had much to say, but when she did it was as if she had been rehearsing it for hours. Every word of advice or comment was teaming with her years of experience. He couldn't help but obey and understand.

Sighing again, he wiped his eyes. "You know, Jake used to tell her that her heart was just too big. That's why she had problems with it."

She smiled wistfully into her cup. For the first time since he'd told her about Serena returning, it reached her hazel eyes. "That's a nice way to put it." She sipped her tea and glanced around her domain.

The great plantation's kitchen cabinets were built around the appliances, and made out of oak. Some so worn through the years that Austin itched to replace them, but Grams would never have it. He could update and fix the rest of the beautiful estate, but the kitchen was hers. The black and white checkered tile floor was original, and looked almost new. Grams took care with what was hers. The large room was full of windows so she could gaze out at her gardens to see what needed to be done. To let all the light in.

"When Great Grandpa built this house, he put in an extra room we never did find."

She had that melancholy tone back in her voice and Austin sat back to listen. He recalled fondly sitting for hours clinging to her stories about their parents, or anything at all. She had a voice filled with knowledge and the memory of ten people.

"When I was a child we looked for it, imagining treasures or anything else we might find." She chuckled quietly to herself. "I told that sister of yours once about that." She shook her head, causing the knot of hair to tumble loose. She tucked a gray strand behind her ear as if she didn't notice. "She and Jake went top to bottom looking for secret passageways and hidden levers."

Austin grinned at the memory, grazing a hand over his short hair. "She had Jake believing they'd be rich and swimming in gold coins."

"That boy would follow her anywhere." Grams breathed deep and bowed her head.

"He still would." Austin felt the tension creep slowly back into the room. Cautiously, he took a sip of tea and found it cold.

When Grams looked at him, her hazel eyes held all her emotion and brought it to the surface. "He doesn't know, does he?"

He couldn't look at her, so instead he stared into his cold cup as if it were the most important thing in the room. "No, he doesn't. Serena said she would tell him when she got here. Said it should come from her."

Grams nodded, solemn. "She's right about that, though it won't make it any better to hear."

She stood and gave a fleeting look around her kitchen. The pale yellow wallpaper had once been bright with color. Her daughter, now laid in the ground too young, would climb on the stools under the island built to separate the table from cooking area. The granddaughter she raised as her own would soon be lying next to her mother and father. She questioned if it would ever be her time to go. All these people she had raised, had watched grow and loved, had to lay to rest. And here she was, watching her kitchen walls fade year after year.

"I'm going up." She patted his hand when he didn't look up. He had demons too. "You should try getting some sleep. Staying up all night won't help her."

"I know, and I will soon." He lifted her hand, warm and wrinkled with time. He kissed her knuckles and rested his cheek against her palm. "Goodnight."

He didn't hear her feet pad away. Grams floated in and out of rooms, people never knowing she was there half the time.

She may have a way with words, but their little midnight talk over tea didn't sit right, nor ease his mind any. He peeked out the window at all the acres and Grams' garden, and decided to take a late night stroll down memory lane.

On the other side of their three acres, just past Gram's garden, Jake was probably in his bed sleeping, and completely unaware that his long time childhood love was coming home for different reasons than he expected.

Austin closed the door behind him and headed toward the children's laughter he somehow knew would forever be etched into the breeze over the yard.