Gracie thought about her mama lying there in that room all alone, and then looked out across the prairie and knew Delia wasn't here anymore. She was out there somewhere, dancing through heavenly bluebells with Daddy. The thought made her heart hurt. But instead of crying, she went back inside, washed her hands and face, got a cold Coke out of the refrigerator, and turned on the box fan standing behind the table.
She needed caffeine, but they'd been out of coffee for a week. At least Mama had had the grace to wait and die until her social security check hit the bank. Otherwise, Gracie would have had to give it back, and she was going to need it.
Mama's death was not a shock, and had been a long time coming, but at the same time, Gracie couldn't remember what it felt like to be free, or what it was like to know someone had her back. But she remembered their last happy family gathering nine years ago, like it was yesterday.
* * *
It was just after Easter dinner.
James and his wife, Darlene, were sitting side by side on the sofa. Their two kids, Caleb and Joanie, were outside with Mamie's husband, Joel, who was hiding eggs for them. James, the eldest and only son, was holding court, and the conversation, as if he were king.
Gracie's older sisters, Daphne, who'd never married, and Mamie, who had chosen to remain childless, were sitting in the two blue recliners, talking in unison and laughing without finishing their sentences, just as they'd done when they were kids.
Gracie had just graduated college in January and was about to move to Denver, Colorado for her new job.
"Are you excited?" Daphne asked.
"Oh, yes," Gracie said. "Getting hired as an event planner for that big hotel will never be dull. The scope of the events will keep everything exciting. And I'm looking forward to mountains and lots of green trees."
James frowned. "We have trees here."
Mamie snorted. "Says the man who moved to flat-ass Houston, where it floods with less than an inch of rain. We have scrub brush and tumbleweeds here," she said, and everyone laughed.
Delia was sitting quietly in the loveseat beside her youngest daughter, seeing herself and her Tommy in all of them. Loving them so much, and at the same time, aware she was in possession of a bomb that was about to explode in all their lives.
Gracie was only slightly aware of her mother's unusual silence, but looking back, she would remember that the expression on her mama's face was something between pride and regret.
And then Delia cleared her voice and reached for Gracie's hand.
"Kids, there is something I need to tell you, and there's no need to keep putting it off. I have been having memory problems for almost a year. Last month, when I was leaving Sweetwater to come home, I forgot where I was going. I forgot about home, and I was halfway to Abilene before I realized what I'd done."
Gracie noted the looks of shock on all her siblings’ faces, but it was the hidden horror in her mother's eyes that touched her most.
Mama was scared, and Gracie's heart hurt for that fear. "Oh, Mama! Oh no! You must have been so scared!" Gracie said, and tightened her grip on her mother's hand.
Delia squeezed it gratefully, then took a quick breath and kept talking.
"I remembered my granny. She'd lost her mind real young, and I knew stuff like that can run in a family, so I went to the doctor. After weeks of testing, they diagnosed me with fronto-temporal dementia, which means, I will not only forget people and things, but I could have a change in personality, too."
All of a sudden, the easy camaraderie they'd been sharing was gone.
Mamie was crying. "Does that mean you're gonna go crazy?"
Gracie frowned. "Oh, for the love of God, Mamie! What a thing to say!"
Daphne kept waiting for James to speak up, but he looked like someone had just poked a stick up his butt, while his wife, Darlene, was blinking back tears.
"I'm so sorry, Mama D., but we're all here, and we'll be there for you when you need help," Darlene said.
"Oh, it's okay," Delia said. "I just needed to get it said, and since we're all here together..."
She let her voice trail off as she kept searching her children's faces for something...anything...and it made Gracie mad.
"No, ma'am. It is not okay," Gracie said. "What can we do? What do you need?"
Tears welled then rolled down Delia's face.
"I don't know what to do. I don't know what I need. I hate this. I hate being a burden. I just wanted you all to know now, that I am okay with being put somewhere. Because when the time comes for it to happen, I might not be in my right mind. I might not be able to say those words."
"I can't stay. I have a job and family in Houston," James said.
"I can't move away and leave Joel in Austin all alone. My duty is to him, first," Mamie said.
Daphne, who was a realtor and lived in Dallas, was still looking at the floor.
Gracie felt them pulling away.
Her dreams and her future were going up in smoke, but she knew she would hate herself for the rest of her life if she didn't do the right thing.
"I'll stay with you, Mama."
The moment she said it, it was as if someone had just opened a window and let in fresh air. Her siblings were suddenly smiling and nodding and making promises to help.
Delia moaned. "Oh, Gracie...honey... your life is just beginning. I don't want this for you."
"And we don't want this for you, Mama. You have done everything for us all our lives. It is our honor to give back to you," Gracie said. "Your children are going to make sure you don't ever get lost again, okay?"
Delia threw her arms around Gracie's neck. "Thank you, baby girl. Thank you."
* * *
The sound of a passing vehicle pulled her out of the memory. That was then, and this was now. Her siblings had managed to show up at Christmas for two years after Mama's revelation, but at the last visit, her erratic behavior had made them uncomfortable, and they’d never come back. That was the year Gracie had put away her resumé and accepted the fact that her dream job as an event planner in Denver was as lost as Mama's good sense. Gracie had understood their fear of Mama, but she'd never thought they would quit her. Like Brother Harp, they had a lot to answer for, and she didn't accept excuses.
She popped the tab on her can of Coke and drank long and deep—even though it brought tears to her eyes—even though it burned all the way down.
There were three stale cookies still in the cookie jar. She ate one with the rest of her Coke and called it breakfast. By the time the hearse arrived, she was as mentally prepared as she was going to be.
And then they were on the porch and knocking.
She opened the door, eyeing them through the screen. She recognized the short man with white hair.
"Good morning, Miss Dunham. I'm Willis Decker. On behalf of Decker Funeral Home, you have our deepest sympathies."
"Thank you, Mr. Decker. You can call me, Gracie. If you'll follow me."
Willis Decker held the door as two other neatly dressed men came inside with a gurney, then they followed Gracie down the hall to her mama's bedroom.
Willis Decker was trying to get over the shock of their level of living. Between the heat, the dust, and the utter lack of comfort, it hurt his heart, but he was here to do a job, and so he turned to Gracie.