Grandma Jo faced him. Seeing the intense expression on his face, her heart softened for this ‘adopted’ son of hers. Her thoughts were reflected on her face, and Mark decided to throw in one last bone to entice her further.
“I do have one secret strategy on my side,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. Grandma Jo leaned forward, holding her breath so she could hear better what he was about to say. This position gave him the impression that she truly was a trusted conspirator into his diabolical plot. “I have the key! I have you on my side,” Mark roared, winking at her.
Grandma Jo jerked back to a standing position, covering her mouth with her right hand to muffle the startled cry the roar had generated in her. “Mark, stop that!” she thundered back at him, shaking her head and frowning. “I told you once before not to treat an old woman that way. You’ll give me an attack.”
The humorous expression quickly departed Mark’s face as he offered her his sincere apology. “Grandma Jo, I am truly sorry. Please forgive me. It appears that my extreme fatigue has gotten to me. I need your help in this case,” he humbly beseeched her, looking very vulnerable.
One sight of him, and hearing the fatigue echoing in his request, made her irritation dissolve rapidly. “Mark,” she began, as she moved back to the chair, “as I told you last night, I am here for you both. Do you have an idea as to the length of time involved?”
Grandma Jo gazed out the pane of glass and spotted Sami. Nodding her head in agreement, she knew that what Mark had stated was true. “Dear, poor, sweet, Sami…” she muttered under her breath. Turning back toward Mark, she gave him a look that told him she understood. “Mark, I have to phone Grace, the volunteer coordinator, to reassign my duties,” she said purposely, glancing at her watch.
“I have calls to make, also. You go first and I’ll make mine after you are through,” Mark directed.
“That sounds like a plan to me,” she replied, heading in the direction of the living room to the phone.
Mark stretched, got to his feet, and walked to the arcadia door.
Grandma Jo was coming toward him with the cordless phone in her hand. Seeing him, she smiled. “Your turn,” she announced, handing him the phone. She then headed down the hall, entered the bathroom, and closed the door. Mark glanced at the closed door, wondering just what he had done in his life to deserve this wonderful woman. She was God sent and he was thankful for her friendship. Lifting the phone in his hand, he punched in the numbers of the clinic.
***
About the Author
B. A. Beers is a former educator who embraces friendships. This philosophy holds true not only in the interaction with others in her personal life, but also with her fictional characters and the readers of her work. Her love affair with the written word blossomed when she read a beloved love story at an impressionable young age.