As I Breathe (One Breath at a Time: Book 2) (5 page)

Grandmother patted my mother at the waistline around her lower back. “No, no. Calm down. This is not the same situation.”

Mom pulled back, stepping away and out of the reach of my grandmother’s loving arms. She flopped down in the chair next to her and put her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her palms. She looked as if she was pouting like a teenager.

“Brandy, don’t be this way. What you’re saying is a bad example, and you know it—call it what it is—we both know this is not the same as...and...” She stuttered and abruptly paused. “Maybe...well, maybe, we were mistaken before—maybe everyone was,” Grandmother said dully, and then sipped her tea. I loved how she held her pinky finger pointed elegantly in the air beside the teacup. “It’s a gift,” she added.

“
Mother, please. Do
not
support this ‘gift’ or whatever you choose to call it. It’s not normal. You know how this will end and it’s not good.” My mother’s voice trailed to a weak and somber end. She folded her hands into her lap, defeated. She knew she’d tried to win an argument where there clearly could be no winner. My mother mumbled under her breath, I heard only a few of her words. “Why...is she doing...not again—I don’t understand—it’s too much...” I could hear her sniffling between barely audible words. My heart sank. What were they talking about? It was in a secret code that only they knew.

Grandmother Katie ignored my mother’s tears, and repeated there was no harm in inheriting the gift. A
gift
was what Grandmother called the curse.

“
Brandy, this isn’t about Brielle, is it...?” she asked. “What is really bothering you, darling? Is this really about—” My mother interrupted Grandmother Katie?

“
Of course, Mother, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Why would you ask me that?” She mumbled some words under her breath. “And I don’t want to talk about it anymore, please, do not take me—us—back there.” My mother lifted her red watery eyes and sternly said, “You need to promise me that you will not encourage Brielle to develop any of these so-called gifts,” my mother pleaded. Grandmother sat there quietly allowing my mother to rant. I suddenly felt awful for not keeping my promise to her
.
I cringed. “And don’t tell her the voices are—are—”

“
Ghosts?” Grandmother’s eyes sharpened.

Did she say Ghosts? No way. The voices are not ghosts.
Grandmother wouldn’t communicate with ghosts and neither would I.

“
Ghosts, angels—whatever. Don’t make excuses, we know the truth...please just stop, Mother.”

“
How do you know that they’re not angels talking to her?” Grandmother raised a brow, pointedly.

Mom interrupted, “That is absurd and you know it. We know what’s going on here. I can’t talk about this anymore. Please, stop.” My mother begged her.

“Well, I never said they were ghosts, did I. I only asked the question.” Grandmother Katie glowered, narrowing her eyes and said, “But what if they are—”

“
Mother, please, I’m begging you,” my mother stammered as she pushed up from the table.

“
Fine, have it your way,” Grandmother said, conceding, but she was clearly offended. She folded her napkin politely and stared past my mother’s stern gaze. “But, if our little Breezy ever asks me about them, what am I supposed to say to her? Do we just sweep this under the rug and ignore what might be going on?”

“
If she does, tell her the voices are nothing but her imagination. You have a way with Brielle,” she admitted, frantically wiping the counters as if she wanted to wipe away the conversation. “Brielle will listen to you, and she will stop feeding into the idea that voices exist in her head. Just encourage it. If you really wanted to, you could heal this curse.”

“
Brandy, I’m not going to listen to this anymore. I’ll do no such thing. She’s not six anymore. And, it’s not a curse, so stop with this nonsense!” Grandmother raised her voice to a titter. She sounded
exactly
like my mother did when I was six years old when she tried to convince me the voices were my own voice; it was kind of funny to hear.
The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Grandmother’s face flushed. She raised her fingers and rubbed her temples, exhaling a long sigh.

I wanted to run into the kitchen and tell them to stop arguing over me. My grandmother was old, and she wasn’t in the best of health.

“That’s what it is to me. A curse,” Mom insisted, full of conviction. She slapped both palms hard against the granite countertop and hung her head.

Although I didn’t understand the entire conversation between them, somehow, I felt it was my fault they were arguing. I’d never heard them talk so ugly toward one another before.

Grandmother sighed and pulled out a large yellow deck of cards. “I know you’re upset, but Brielle’s almost a teenager now; don’t do this to her. You should tell her the truth about what happened and why you are so scared. She needs your support. Imagine how she must feel. Dealing with this on her own doesn’t seem right. It must be frightening for her to be alone. We can’t allow her to think she’s crazy. She needs guidance. If nothing else, I can help her understand the gifts she was born with. And, if you accept—
this
as a gift, instead of a curse—it might also help you to heal once and for all.” Grandmother’s aging hands gracefully shuffled the cards.

“
Mom, please, I have asked you so many times...do not read those in my home,” my mother scolded Grandmother as she tossed a kitchen towel over the cards. “I need to take a bath. Would you please keep an eye on the children? And, no tarot cards, I mean it.”

“
Fine, I will read them later at home. Brandy, I think you are overreacting to all of this. I’m sure Brielle is just lonely and has made up some imaginary friends to keep her company.” Shockingly, my grandmother relented, giving up her side of the argument. Even I knew the voices were real. “Why don’t you think about having another baby?”

Wow, nothing like changing the subject.

I would love a little sister!

“
That’s insane and you know why.” My mother threw her arms into the air and exited the kitchen.

I stayed hidden in the dining room until I heard her marching up the stairs like a spoiled teenager.

-3-

I Spy

I hesitantly peered around the corner of the kitchen door, making sure the coast was clear. There was no sign of my mother around. Grandmother Katie was sitting at the table, staring out the window.

“Hi, Grandma, whatcha doing?” I ran to her and gave her a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“
Hello, Angel. Look at me...every time I see you, it looks like you’ve grown another inch.” She placed her palms firmly on each side of my face and aligned it with hers. “A kiss, a peck and a hug around the neck!” She kissed my cheek, pecked the end of my nose with hers and then hugged me.

“
Grandma, stop...that’s for little kids, and I’m twelve and three-quarters-years-old now. I’m practically an adult.”

“
So you are. Hmm, did you know I was almost a child bride? And not much older than you at the time.”

I shook my head,
no
, as my reply.

“
Well, it almost happened when I was sixteen-years old.” She smiled suspiciously. “I told him to take a hike when he tried to get fresh with me.”

“
Fresh? You mean as in he tried to kiss you or something?”

“
Yes, he did.” My grandmother said, adding a nod.

“
Yuck.” I half chuckled. “Tell me more,” I said, wide eyed, and curiously.

“
Well, the big wedding ceremony had all been arranged by my fiancé’s snooty parents. They insisted on planning everything—I didn’t like them much. Anyway this one night, a few weeks before our wedding date, he took me to a fancy dinner. Then, afterward, he surprised me with tickets to a show. I was very excited because I had never been to the theater before—my father couldn’t afford it in those days.”

“
Oh...” I interrupted. “What was the man’s name who you were going to marry?”

Momentarily, Grandmother’s eyes darted upward and she spat out, “Garrett...Garrett Davis. What a dickens he was,” she sighed breathily. “At first he was very sweet and bought me all the popcorn and candy I wanted. But when the lights went down during the show! Oooooh boy! I soon figured out why he was being so nice!” Grandmother’s tone rose to a higher pitch.

“Why?” I interrupted. She looked at me and leaned back in her chair and exhaled.

“
Maybe we should wait until you’re a little older to have this conversation.” She thoughtfully nibbled the skin of her bottom lip.

“
No, Grandma. I’m old enough, I’m almost thirteen, remember? If it’s about the birds and the bees, I already know things. We are learning all about
sex
in health class,” I blurted out.

“
Oh my word, Breezy...the world sure has changed since I was in school.”

“
It sure has,” I said, a slow grin spread across my face. “So tell me what happened?”

“
Okay, but don’t tell your mother I told you.”

“
Oh gosh, I would never tell her,” I said confidently. “She’s a little old-fashioned when it comes to things like this. But, I’m not. Can you believe that a girl in my school has already done
it?
She’s like fourteen.” I grimaced, rolling my eyes back.

My Grandmother peered at me over the rim of her silver glasses. “Done it? You mean...she’s had relations with a boy, already?”

“Heck yeah...Grandma, kids start pretty young these days.”

“
Oh, dear, that’s not good,” she gasped, furrowing her brows, marring the two lines between her eyes, and so did I. Respectfully, I loved to imitate her facial expressions, and especially her signature one brow raise. Then, she looked at me suspiciously.

“
I haven’t done anything yet, no way!” I proclaimed, shaking my head.

“
Well, that’s good news,” she said, exhaling long, obviously relieved. “Be a good girl and keep your knees together.”

“
Grandma!”
I squealed, feeling somewhat embarrassed. “Don’t worry, I will.” There was a beat of awkward silence. “So, what did that boy do to you?”

“
Well, the theater was very dark and, the movie was playing on, and then suddenly I felt his sweaty palm crawl over my shoulder ever so slowly. I just about jumped out of my skin when he touched me, and before he knew what happened, I socked him square in the eye.” Grandmother grinned mischievously and punched her fist into the air. “Boom...he had a shiner for weeks,” she sneered, trying to hold down her laughter.

“
That’s hilarious! I guess you told him. Did he get super mad at you?” I asked between rasps of laugher.

“
Ooh no, he didn’t say a word. He just got up and left me there. I think I shocked the pants off of him but more than anything he was surprised I could hit so hard. I ended up watching the movie by myself. ” She shrugged. “It was such a good movie. A love story that I wasn’t about to miss.”

“
Grandma, you crack me up,” I snorted.

“
I warned him there’d be no hanky-panky until after we were married,” she paused, “After all, I didn’t love him—I liked him okay, but neither one of us were in love.” Grandmother wrinkled up her tiny freckled nose. “In those days marrying a college boy was a smart thing for a poor girl to do.”

I piped in, “If you weren’t in love...then...why were you going to marry the wealthy man?” I pried, carefully enunciating my words. My braces caused me to slur sometimes. “That would’ve been a mistake, right?”

Grandmother pulled in her lips and arched both brows. “My-my, you ask some tough questions, maybe you should study to be an attorney.”

“
No Grandma, I’m going to be a mystery writer.”

She narrowed her eyes a fraction. “Well, it was no mystery why I was going to marry him—it was to help my family. My papa said, “Katie
,
it’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man, as it is a poor man. That was bad advice, coming from a man with no money—I learned on my own that money comes and goes, and it’s the love that holds you together. But you’re right though, my little smarty-pants; marrying Collin Davis would’ve been a huge mistake. At the time, I only agreed to marry him because it was just after the Great Depression. Things were really difficult in those days, and of course, my papa thought it was for the best. But, there were no wedding bells after I walloped my groom,” she snickered. “Thank goodness,” she whispered, gazing through me.

“
So, then you married Grandpa Stephen, right?”

“
That’s right. I met him in Paris when I was volunteering at one of the hospitals. It was the spring of 1946. We got married three months later. I suppose I was still a child bride at twenty, especially since he was twenty-one years my senior.”