Untethered

12 | Cancer is a Bitch

Emma found Greta at the kitchen table drinking tea and doing the crossword in her bright, golden breakfast nook. Cream colored wallpaper with various wildflowers in violet, yellow, and orange hues decorated the walls. Rich oak, stained a warm honey color, made up most of the surfaces, giving the area a subtle glow. Early afternoon sunshine, spilling in through the patio doors added to the effect, softening her angular features.

Once settled at the table, Emma peered over her mug at the older woman. "You feeling okay, Mama Bear?" she asked, biting the inside of her cheek worriedly, not really expecting an honest answer. Her skin had a greyer pallor every time she saw her, and her face was deeply lined with exhaustion.

"I have my good days and bad ones, too. Don't worry about me so much, girl." She cocked her head. "Have the police figured out who broke into the van yet?"

"No." Emma shook her head in the negative, inwardly sighing at her vagueness. "I called this morning but they said as nothing was actually taken, it was just an act of vandalism. I don't think they're really trying, to be honest." She shrugged.

"I still don't think it was just some kid." Greta's brow furrowed worriedly. "I don't know, probably getting batty in my old age." She chuckled and wiped the concern from her face. "So, what's happening with you and my boy?"

"Nothing," Emma answered evasively, as warmth crept up her neck. "I saw him this morning about the cabinet we found in my grandpa's workshop." She explained about the safe and then went on. "You know, it's strange, Ryan said your dad made it, but I don't ever remember seeing it before. It seems like the kind of thing my grandma would have had upstairs, or at least in one of the bedrooms."

"I remember when my papa built that." Greta gave her a small smile. "He was just trying to get his business off the ground when my mama got sick. Your grandparents helped with money, putting food on the table, taking care of mama—so many things, for months." Her gaze wandered toward the windows. "Edie and Franco were true angels, girl. Anyway, he built that cabinet for them as thanks." She sipped her tea thoughtfully. "You know, they probably put it out of sight so he wouldn't have to be reminded of the way they helped us. Your grandma and grandpa were kind like that—they wouldn't want to hold it over his head."

She smiled back at Greta, and for the first time since Grandma Edie died, Emma was able to think about her without wanting to cry. When she spoke, her voice was full of affection. "It was the same with me and Evan. They put everything into raising us—I don't know what would have happened to us when daddy died without them." She shuddered slightly and her smile faded a little as she thought about what it would have been like to be raised by Julie. "I don't think things would have turned out so good for us, that's for sure."

"You were very lucky to have them both as long as you did, Em." Reaching over, Greta squeezed her hand. "You remind me of Edie so much—and I mean that as a compliment," she added quickly. "That woman was a force of nature, but so generous, too. You got her fire. She always kept Franco on his toes, that's for sure."

~*~*~

The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly as the two ladies basked in each other's company. It was easy and comforting, and Emma felt herself starting to unwind and even laugh. She helped Greta make the meatballs, and before long, the spaghetti sauce was simmering away cheerfully on the stove.

The whole time, Emma kept stealing concerned glances at Greta. Her movements were definitely slower and pained. Still, she was in good spirits, and before they knew it, it was five o'clock, and Ryan's truck was pulling into the driveway. She immediately tensed, and felt Greta's eyes on her, but thankfully she didn't say anything.