“No, she’ll never go for that.”
“I think she would.”
“Believe me, I know my grandmother, and I’m definitely sure she will not want to join a book club.”
“It doesn’t hurt to ask.”
Bev stood at the slightly opened door to the back porch listening to Joshua and Diane argue over what they could get her as a gift. A smile played on her lips. The two had hit it off from the moment they met and were growing closer by the day. If she played her cards right, Diane would become an official family member.
“Thank you for leading me to that café when you did, Troy.” She looked heavenward. “Diane is a delightful treat, and I can see that our grandson likes her very much.” She turned the walker and made her way back to the kitchen to get started on lunch.
Half an hour later, she heard the patter of footsteps headed her way.
“Bev, what are you doing?” Diane asked with her brow furrowed.
“I’m making pasta,” she replied.
“Grandma, you know you shouldn’t be on your feet,” Joshua jumped in.
“I’m fine.” She waved them off. “I can’t stay confined to that chair all day. These old bones will definitely not heal.”
“At least let me help you,” Diane offered. She was already pulling on an apron and walking up to Bev.
“All right, if you insist. The tomatoes are already boiled; peel off the skins and add them to the food processor,” she instructed.
Diane reached for the pot and placed it on the counter before peeling the tomatoes.
Bev looked from her to see her grandson’s gaze on her. When he noticed that Bev was watching him, he averted his eyes. “I’m gonna start repotting those plants as you asked,” he informed her and headed away from the kitchen. Bev turned her gaze on Diane once more.
“Are you finished, dear?”
“Almost,” Diane answered.
Bev moved the walker to the side and held the counter as she made her way toward the stove and the pot of boiling spaghetti. Getting the tongs, she lifted the long spindly noodles out of the pot and into a bowl.
“Let me do that for you.” Diane walked over to her. She held out her hand for the tongs.
Bev looked at her with knitted brows and a tight scowl. “I can manage quite fine on my own. Thank you very much. I don’t need you and Joshua coddling me all the time.”
“That’s not what we’re trying to do. You just had surgery, and the doctors said you should take it easy so that you don't have another fall and damage your prosthetics,” Diane defended.
“I had surgery two weeks ago. I’m fine. I’ve been on my own all this time. I don’t need you or anyone hovering around me constantly and changing my routine,” she snapped.
Diane’s lips parted in surprise.
Bev released a heavy breath. “I’m sorry, Diane. I didn’t mean to go at you like that. I’m just frustrated by all these things happening to me.”
“It’s fine. I get it. You’re used to your privacy and your independence, but it’s okay to let others into your world and allow them to help you, especially when they care so much about you,” Diane reasoned. “You fell and broke your hip. Your grandson took time off from the Army to be here with you because he loves you so much and fears losing you. Even if you don’t want or need anyone’s help, humor him and let him know that his help is appreciated.”
“You’re right,” Bev responded, then released a sigh. “I’ve grown so accustomed to being alone this past year that it almost feels foreign to accept help. I will be more open to receiving help.”
“That’s the spirit,” Diane cheered.
“Let me get the rest of the pasta before it softens.” Diane went back to puree the tomatoes.
“So when are you going to move in?” she asked, changing the subject.
The two women looked over their shoulders at each other.
