Read Online Falling into Place by Stephanie Greene - Free Book Online Page B

sarcastic tone in Gran’s voice. “Why me?” he said helplessly.
    For Margaret, it was the final straw. Here they were, trying their best to cheer Gran up and make her happy, and Mrs. Nightingale and Mrs. Tudley, full of sympathy and understanding for a person they didn’t even know, and here was Gran, being mean and sarcastic about them all. Worst of all, she was deliberately being horrible to Roy, her own grandson, who was gentle and kind and never said a mean word to anyone.
    Margaret snatched the envelope out of Gran’s hand. She knew she was being rude, but she didn’t care.
    â€œI’ll take it to him,” she said abruptly, turning on her heel. “Come on, Roy.”
    He waited until they were outside to speak.
    â€œWhy can’t we just put it in the mailbox?” he said, scurrying after her. “Why do we have to take it all the way to him? Mr. Whiting hates Gran. What if he yells at us?”
    â€œSo? Haven’t you ever heard anyone yell before?” Margaret pushed the gate open with such energy, it flew back and hit Roy in the stomach.
    â€œHey! What are you mad at
me
for?” he said.
    â€œShe’s brooding,” said Margaret. She was stomping her feet so hard that little pieces of gravel were shooting out to either side like sparks. “She’s sitting around like a chicken all day long, brooding.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œYou saw her!” said Margaret. “Everyone’s trying as hard as they can, and all she does is act tired, and look out the window, and say ‘I don’t know’ all the time. She’s being mean about people she doesn’t even know, and she’s being mean to us. Her own grandchildren.”
    â€œNo, I mean the chicken part,” said Roy. “I mean, I think chickens are hens, but I don’t think they brood. I think hens brood, but—”
    â€œFor heaven’s sake, Roy!
Who cares?”
Margaret shouted. She halted and whirled around to face him so fast that he almost ran right into her. “I’m talking about Gran’s attitude. There are lots of things to do around here, if she’d give them a chance. And the people are nice. No one’s talking about their aches and pains like she said. They’re all doing things. Everyone except Gran.”
    â€œI feel sorry for her,” said Roy.
    â€œFeeling sorry isn’t doing her any good,” said Margaret. “It’s only making her feel more sorry for herself.”
    â€œMaybe she’s scared.”
    â€œOf what?”
    â€œI don’t know. Maybe she’s afraid she’s next.”
    â€œNext for what?”
    â€œNext to die.”
    â€œWhat?” The word was so unexpected, Margaret shook her head slightly, as if she wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly. “What are you talking about? Gran’s not dying.”
    â€œShe might feel like she is,” he said. “Tad died, didn’t he? They were almost the same age. Maybe Gran thinks she’s next.”
    â€œBut Gran’s in perfect health.”
    â€œTad was, too, until he got sick.”
    Margaret couldn’t think of a thing to say. Roy kind of had a point. Maybe Gran was afraid. Margaret was afraid sometimes, too. But she couldn’t go around being afraid for the rest of her life, could she? That would be horrible.
    Gran couldn’t either.
    â€œI don’t care.” She started to walk again. “She’s got to try harder.”
    Roy walked along beside her. “When are we going to tell her she’s having them over for a party?” he said.
    â€œI don’t know. Maybe we won’t even have the stupid party.” She stopped in front of the last house on the block and looked from the letter in her hand to the front door. “One-sixty. This is it.”
    â€œLet’s slip it under the door and run,” said Roy.
    â€œWhy should we run? We haven’t done