Blue shadows stretched themselves across the kitchen. The sound of the waves crashing against the pilings outside was soothing.  Grammy's house shoes slapped  her heels as she made her way from her bedroom to the kitchen.   Abby, who sat at the table braced herself. She liked silence, her grandmother liked noise. Her grandmother entered the kitchen. Her usual, "Good Morning" was not spoken. Absently she flipped on the kitchen radio. Classical music, noise to Abby, obliterated the peaceful music of the waves. Abby looked at her grandmother. Her eyes were tired and red rimmed. She asked, "Grammy are you okay?"

Without making eye contact Grammy nodded her head.  "I’m fine.  Just didn't sleep well." She cleared her throat and added in a strained voice, "You're daddy's coming home."

“Oh.” Abby frowned.  This news was not good for her, but it should make Grammy happy. Only she wasn’t. "When’s Chester coming?"

"He said he would call when he got his plane ticket.” Grammy's hands shook as she pulled a cup and a tea bag from the cabinet. She lifted the cold kettle and poured water into the cup. She came to the table and sat down. 

Something was wrong, very wrong, it usually was when Chester made contact.  Abby asked, "What's he need this time?"

“Who?”

“Your son."

Grammy’s voice had an odd quality to it when she said, “He really doesn't know." 

"What?"

Grammy didn't answer. She traced the rim of the cup with her index finger.  It slipped into the tepid tea.   Again Abby asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, just tired." Grammy picked up her cup of tea and left the kitchen. Her house shoes slapped across the dining room floor and then out onto the front porch. The front door closed with a soft bang. 

Abby  gulped down her last spoon full of cereal, switched off the noise and took her bowl to the sink. She looked out the kitchen window.  In the blue cloudless sky a seagull lifted its wings toward heaven.  It cut sideways then swooped toward earth. It let out its piercing cry. It was such a lonely sound. An odd shiver chilled Abby. She had a bad feeling about this so called visit.  She turned to go upstairs. Through the dining room window she saw Grammy swinging at an amazing rate of speed on the porch swing.  In her hands was a single piece of notebook paper.  Her mouth moved as she read.  The paper was crumpled like it had been wadded up and smoothed out again.  It must be the letter from Chester. Abby wanted to know what was in that letter. She started toward the front door, then she heard the squeal of school bus breaks. Crap. She turned ran upstairs grabbed her backpack, ran back down, blew Grammy a kiss and sprinted toward the bus.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Her neighbor, twelve year old David Spenser, stood in the open doors of the bus. Mr. Anderson, the bus driver frowned at her for holding him up.  David said, "I told you my Juliet was coming. Hurry up my sweet!"

Without even looking at David, Abby slid passed him and took her seat. The little creep as usual sat down beside her. He was just in seventh grade and she was in tenth. She scooted away from him. He started to move closer. She hissed, "Stay where you are."

Softly he said, "Of course my love," and stayed where he was.

*

When Abby got off the bus that afternoon David was not with her. Thank God he had voice lessons after school on Fridays. Before going inside the house  she checked the mailbox.  Nothing but junk.

Next door Mr. Thomas called, "Hey Abby."

Abby waved.

He came to her and said, "I couldn't believe the mailman put your father's letter in my box.  It's a shame too.  It sat in there for three days while I was out of town.  Hope Chester's okay."

Every one in the neighborhood knew the only time Grammy heard from Chester was when he needed money or was in trouble. She said, "He's coming for a visit." 

The look on Mr. Thomas face revealed his thoughts. Chester must be in a real bind to come home for a visit. Aloud he said, "It will be good to see him." It was a bold faced lie. Mr. Thomas did not like Chester. Abby felt her face flush red as she turned away from the mail box.   She mumbled, "See ya," and took the mail into the house.

Inside Grammy was teaching a piano lesson. He newest student was five-year old Jaspar, something, Abby couldn't remember his last name. She put the mail on the kitchen table and got an apple out of the fridge.

From the living room she heard Grammy say,  "Very good Jaspar. You must have practiced."

"Yes Mam I did.  Can I get up now?"

"Yes."

Little feet hit the floor and ran into the kitchen. Jaspar climbed up on the stool by the counter.  He pulled the pig cookie jar to him and opened the lid.  He took a deep whiff of its contents then stuck in his hand.  He pulled out a huge chocolate chip cookie and said, "Missus Pierce makes the best cookies." 

Abby said, "She buys them."

"Nuhun, Grandma people always make cookies."

"Who says?"

He jabbed himself in the chest with his thumb and said, "Me." He took a huge bite. Abby didn't know a little kid's mouth could be so big. Like a cow with a cud he chewed his cookie thoroughly before he swallowed.   He took another big bite and started  the process all over again.  At the rate he was going he could cut at least ten minutes off his lesson time. 

Grammy came into the kitchen.  "You are the slowest cookie eater I know.  It’s time to get back to work."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes.  Your Mama doesn't pay me to feed you cookies."

Jaspar grinned. "I wish she did." He jumped off the stool and stuffed the rest of the cookie in his mouth.

Grammy scolded, "You take smaller bites or you'll choke.  How many times have you been told not to take such big bites?"

In a cookie garbled voice he answered, "Oh, bout sixty million."

As Grammy was leaving the room Abby asked, "I was wondering if I could read Chester's letter?"

Abby saw panic fill Grammy's eyes. They grew wider, then narrowed. Grammy gripped the kitchen chair. Abby waited.  Several long seconds passed before Grammy said, "Uh, he called this time."

"But-" Abby began.

Grammy cut her off, "I need to get back to Jaspar."

Abby’s mouth dropped open. She stared at her grandmother. Grammy turned away from her and left the room. Abby couldn’t believe it, Grammy had just lied to her.  She had never done that before.