The Way Back

Her Perspective

As the scent of brewing coffee wafted to her nose, she slid the doors leading to the backyard open and inhaled the clean morning air. She listened to the birds sing and realized it would be a beautiful May morning. With a smile on her face, she returned inside and put her favored Sunday morning record on, turning the volume louder than usual. The seventy-two-year old had awoke with the rise of the sun and would not allow her granddaughter to sleep the day away.

Sinatra began singing Come Fly with Me when she heard Elisabeth's heavy footfalls on the stairs. Ruth poured coffee into another mug and made it exactly the way her oldest grandchild liked. She snickered softly as Libba grumpily padded into the kitchen. "Morning, sweetheart," she said, taking in the girl's black knee-high socks and tie-dyed oversized t-shirt. "Sleep well?"

Elisabeth mumbled incoherently and stumbled over to the record player to turn down the music. She momentarily regretted giving her grandmother the Sinatra at the Sands record as a Christmas gift, but she supposed she could have been woken up in worse ways. "What time is it?" she asked, rubbing the remaining sleep from her eyes.

"7:30," Ruth answered.

"Gran," Libba whined pitifully. "It's too early."

"The early bird gets the worm," she retorted.

Libba heaved a sigh and crossed her arms as she flopped into a chair at the table. "I don't want a worm," she declared. She wanted more sleep since she had stayed out with her cousin until nearly two o'clock in the morning.

"Have this instead," Ruth suggested and offered the coffee to her. "I'm making breakfast. Thick cut bacon like you like, scrambled eggs with cheese, and toast."

"Thanks, Gran." Libba took the mug appreciatively and wrapped her fingers around the ceramic cup, letting the warmth soak into her hands. A smile crept over her face as she smelled the bacon cooking in the oven. It was a given that her grandmother would make her favorite meals every single time she visited Atherton. Elisabeth folded her legs into the chair and leaned back, watching her grandmother rifle through the refrigerator. "Why did you wake me up so early?" she inquired and sipped her coffee, wishing the jolt of caffeine would kick in quickly.

Ruth removed the carton of eggs from the shelf and set them on the counter. "It's Sunday, and I know you'll be heading back to Oakland this afternoon or evening. I wanted to spend as much time with you as I could."

Elisabeth smiled and drank more coffee. She didn't feel as hostile about being woken up by Frank Sinatra's crooning after hearing her grandmother's reasoning. "I love you, Gran," she said, getting up from her seat and walking to her for a hug. She slipped her arms around the older woman and kissed her cheek, letting her head rest on Ruth's shoulder. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she took in her grandmother's signature scent of lavender.

"I love you too, sweetheart," she returned and squeezed Libba's waist. Ruth held her close and caught her blue eyes. "I was hoping you may want to talk also," she divulged.

Libba shuffled away from her grandmother and twirled a curl around her finger. She rubbed her lips together and wrapped her arms around herself, staring out the window. She watched the birds fly around the numerous feeders situated along the edges of the patio. The brunette stared into the distance and blew out a breath. "Talk about what?"

"Elisabeth Rhiannon, I know when something is bothering you."

She bit her bottom lip and sat down at the table. "Does something have to be bothering me to stay a weekend with my grandmother?" She lifted her hand to her neck to twirl the golden pyramid along the chain but frowned, remembering she'd taken the necklace off and not worn it in over a week.