Grandma asked about her work, and this time, Mom stayed long enough to tell her.
Nobody mentioned the house again.
***
Three weeks later, I arrived for my usual Sunday visit.
I heard laughter coming from Grandma’s kitchen.
Mom sat across from her, holding an old photograph.
Nobody mentioned the house again.
“Your father insisted that wall was crooked,” Grandma said.
Mom laughed.
“He never admitted that cabinet was his fault.”
I pulled up a chair.
Mom smiled at me.
“I’ve been coming on Sundays.”
I pulled up a chair.
“Grandma mentioned it.”
“I should’ve started sooner.”
“I’m glad you’re here now.”
She reached for Grandma’s hand.
“I’ve missed this, Mom.”
Grandma smiled.
“Grandma mentioned it.”
“So have I.”
Grandma picked up the photograph again.
“Your father always said we’d go back to the coast,” she told Mom.
I smiled as they began sharing memories.
For once, I didn’t feel the need to keep the conversation going for them.
