Stages of Grace - By Carey Heywood Page 0,46

tray with some muffins and sliced cheese and follow her outside. I am really going to miss this weather.

I focus on my coffee. I'm not very hungry.

"Grace, there was something I wanted to ask you."

I look up from my cup "Yes?"

"You see, I've just enjoyed your stay so much, and I just wanted to let you know that if you'd like to I'd like for you to stay with me."

"What?" She wants me?

"Move to Florida, dear. I can tell you aren’t happy in Ohio."

She has a point. I’m not.

"I can't." I argue even though part of me is rejoicing at the idea.

"Why not?" Her eyes soften.

"What about my job? Jon?"

"You wouldn’t need to pay rent so you could take your time finding something."

"And Jon?"

"Only you can answer that question, dear" she says quietly.

"I just don’t think I can."

"No matter what you decide, I just needed you to know that you're welcome to stay here as long as you like."

"That really means so much to me, and I will think about it. I just—I just don’t know what to say."

I begin worrying at a muffin, pulling it apart and making more mess than eating it. Has my grandmother really just asked me to move to Florida? It sounds like a dream, but she's probably just being polite. She can’t really mean it. But, if I stay, what will happen to Jon? There is no way he can afford the apartment without me. He could always get a studio. But what if he asks me to stay? Will he even ask me to stay? Kate reaches over and pats me on the hand.

"Is there anything you would like to do today, Grace?"

"I'm fine just hanging out around here."

"You had mentioned wanting to learn some of the meals I've cooked. Would you like to do that today?"

"That sounds great, but I have to warn you I'm a miserable cook."

"Oh hush, dear. I'm sure you're fine."

After eating, I clear the table and go to take a shower. I check my knee before getting in. It looks better than the night before. I dress in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved sweater. I will be leaving the next day, I'm really having a hard time dealing with that, and now Kate asked me to stay. Why does the idea of it feel like I would be running away? And then there is Ryan to think of. He seems interested in me, but is it only because he knows I'm going away? I gather my dirty clothes together and look for Kate to see if I can do a load of laundry.

Kate is in the front room looking at old photos. I sit by her. She absentmindedly points people out, people I have never seen before: my great grandparents. There are also more pictures of my mother and my uncle Ronald. These photos are happier than the formal professional photo hanging in the hallway.

"Was Anne buried or cremated?"

I cringe at the thought of a mother having to ask that question about her own daughter. "Um, they were both cremated."

"Did you scatter their ashes?"

"Yes, in the Cuyahoga River back home."

"Is it a pretty river?"

"It used to be polluted but it's better now. It’s very curvy. Mom loved it."

"Maybe someday I'll come visit you to see it."

"I'd really like that, Kate."

When we are done looking at the album, I ask Kate if I can use her washer and dryer. She tells me I'm silly to even ask and shows me where they are and how to work them. I hurry back to my room to grab my clothes, figuring it is safe to wash them all together as long as I set it on cold. Kate is making a chef salad in the kitchen when I find her. After lunch, she sits on her wicker loveseat and knits while I go for a dip. I lounge in an armchair float and chat with Kate while she is busy with her knitting. She's making another shawl. This one is a mint shade and is more ribbed than diamond patterned.

"Have you always knitted?"

Kate looks down at the project in her hands. "I learned from my mother when I was very young. It's very calming. I like to have my hands busy, and it feels nice to make the shawls for someone going through a rough patch. Your mother knew how to knit. Did she ever teach you?"

I shake my head.

"Oh."

After my swim, I change back into my jeans and