***
Scout’s face immediately fell. Why had her grandma left her? She knew it was her time and all that crap people seemed to keep spouting at her. Yes, even her brain was turning into a potty-mouth factory. Not something that would have made her grandmother proud. Cuppa. Did she want a cuppa? Absolutely, but she wanted it with Grandma Nora, not with her sometimes, sort-of mom. No, that wasn’t fair. She knew her mom had to work and that required travel. She was just being a negative nelly because she was—what was she? Sad, scared, angry, flustered, confused, excited, happy, anxious, lonely… Goodness gracious, she might actually be as crazy as everyone had once thought she was.
“Thanks, Mom. Not sure why you think I need help packing.” She could not contain the chuckle that escaped her lips as she twirled around the room, showcasing the piles like a game show hostess. This was an ongoing joke in their family. For some reason, they found great humor in mimicking game show hostesses, especially when the items being “presented” were less than ideal. Like the huge mess before them.
“One day I’ll learn my lesson and actually start things a half second before they need to be done.” Scout laughed, knowing she wasn’t fooling her mother or herself. This was how she always had, and probably always would do things. Somehow, they always got done, even if it included moments of stress and, in this case, comedy.
“No, you won’t, but it’s one of the things that make you who you are, so no worries. It’s not like you will fail out of college if you don’t have the right top or your curling iron.”
“Stinks, I completely forgot about things like my curling iron. Good thing you are off this week.”
“Anything forgotten can be shipped or repurchased. I say we make sure you have all your favorite jeans and tops, throw in a ton of unmentionables so you can skip washing day if a swinging party pops up, and one nice outfit. How does that sound?”
“Unmentionables? Really, Mom, you sound like Grandma Nora. Please tell me you said, “swinging” for the benefit of tension release and not because you are trapped in the past. The waaaaaay past. Are you even old enough to remember when people said that?”
Grace had a gleam of mischief in her eyes when she replied. “I can say swinging if I want. It’s a fun word and got my meaning across. Should I have said wicked party since you are moving to “wicked” country? You do know that you are going to have to add that to your vocabulary, don’t you? It is wicked important that you understand what the wicked cool people in your wicked sweet dorm are trying to tell you so you can have a wicked good time.”
Scout could not see her mother’s face because she said it as she was packing at super speed, but even without seeing her, Scout could hear a couple of times where it took all she had not to crack up again.
It boggled her mind how quickly her mom was able to organize and pack her clothes, in the middle of her one-woman comedy show. It was not like she was one of the divas from school who had more clothes than the mall, so in hindsight, it seemed silly that it had her so up in a tizzy. Leave it to her to make a mountain out of a molehill—another thing her grandmother used to say.
When the task was complete, her mom looked at her with understanding in her eyes. “You know, it’s okay to miss her. I do, every day. I know she thought she was a burden living with us, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I could leave on business and know you were in the best hands ever, and I also knew you and your father would never starve. No one could cook like my mom.”
“How did you know I was thinking about her? Am I that transparent?”
“Only to me, sweet pea. Only to me. I knew you were thinking about her because I was too, and because you had that slight change in your eyes you get when you are sad.”
“I miss her so much, Mom. Sometimes it hurts to breathe. I finally tried to read the letter earlier today, but I barely made it through the opening.” There was no point telling her which letter. They both got one, and she was sure her mother read hers the second she was able to be alone. Her mom was never one for waiting. “She mentioned tea, and I lost it. Grandma Nora was always good for a cuppa. Maybe you were right, and we should grab one now. It’s what we would have done if she were here.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll go put the kettle on while you throw all the clothes we didn’t pack into the laundry basket.” Grace looked at the pile of unpacked clothes and, for a quick moment, the intensity of her sorrow over not only losing her mother, but of having her daughter leaving, was evident on her face.
“I’ll take care of them later. It will give me something to do other than miss you.”
Tears welled in Scout’s eyes. While she might not have had the closest relationship with her mom, they were close in their own way, and she loved her deeply. She knew the reverse was true, also. Her mom would be losing both her mother and her daughter in the same month. No, having a child go away to school was not the same as death, but it was still losing her “sweet pea,” as her mom liked to call her.
Sitting at the small kitchen table that was now considered retro and cool, but was really just old and something her grandma refused to get rid of, even though it did not fit in with their granite countertops and stainless steel appliances, both Scout and her mom played with their tea bags.
“I know drinking tea from store-bought bags isn’t the same, but Mom never taught me her recipe. I always meant to ask, but time got away from us. It’s not too bad though, right?”
Scout immediately thought back to her mom’s comment. The tea her grandmother had given to her since she moved in was minty in a way, but she was never able to isolate the flavors either. The tea caddy was empty within a week of Grandma Nora’s passing. Partly because she found comfort in it and drank far more of it than normal, and partly because it was probably about time Grandma Nora would have made some more. She had promised to send a huge batch with Scout to college. Now she was going without tea and with an unbearable ache in her heart.
“Grandma Nora mentioned her tea in the letter she wrote, and I just about lost it. What was it with her and tea? Anyone and everyone who came by the house ended up with a great, big cuppa as she liked to say. Even when they tried to turn her down because they had somewhere to be or something to do, they somehow ended up at this table, laughing it up with Grandma Nora. Remember the day she had the package delivery guy here for an hour? I’m pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be spending his time like that, but she wasn’t letting him go without his cuppa.”
“According to her, he needed it, so that was that. She always did like her tea. I don’t remember a time growing up when she didn’t have a kettle on. She used to grow all the herbs for it, but started buying them from the store shortly before she moved here. What did she say in her letter?”
Scout looked at her mom. While her voice was steady and the question appeared to be just part of the flow of conversation, she could tell that she had more than a passing interest in the letter. She could see by the look in her eyes that she was almost scared of what was written in it, as if her mother would spill all of her secrets. Not that her mom had secrets. At least Scout didn’t think she did. Grace seemed to be a very normal mom. She ran training schools for her company and traveled often, but other than that, she didn’t stand out from the other moms. Scout never liked the way she had to pretend in front of her, but she had long ago come to accept the fact it would have been true in every family.
“I didn’t get very far into it. I was sort of smudging it with my tears, so I figured I should put it way until I was ready.” Deciding to change the subject, she added, “Where is Dad, anyway? I thought he would be home by now.”