chapter 73 *Wingspan*

"it's okay Chanel you can come out." i search for Chanel not even realizing she was gone. "sorry." i start to apologize looking at grandma. "she's a little shy these days." i try to explain.

grandma waves at me in a forget about it gesture. her stacked bracelets making noise. "aren't we all these days?" grandma says. she had a way of calming me down.

I follow her past the orange hallway that hadn't seen a fresh coat of paint since i was born and into the kitchen we went. the dining area, a brilliant shade of pollen yellow, had a great view into the living room thanks to the large four sided open cut wall. 

from here i could see the brown couch and the red brick of the fireplace right behind it.

"I made some tea." grandma announces happily.

i unveil the Tuffet scarf from my neck until the ends of it loosen freely. "tea would be great, thanks."

"sit down i will make you a cup." there were two mugs along the counter. i watched as grandma filled them with hot steaming water. i must have come just in time then.

I grab a chair and take off my jacket.

we had a good relationship but there were certain things i didn't know how well starting out a conversation with the truth would go. we both had our gifts and different ways of living with them. 

and it wasn't like i could go to grandma for a reading because she was apprehensive about giving them to people that she had a deep rooted connection to. the whole ball of wax was not clear.

grandma was heavily emotionally attached to me and the more she cared about someone, the more uncertain of the future she became. she knew certain things, like today, but for one vision there were umpteen outcomes that befuddled her conviction. 

it was because of her desire to see me in good health that a screen fog with eclipses that contained nameless outlooks prevented her from getting a broader impression. 

i still thought it was a gift that would come in handy and i wished that i had her foresight instead of my ability to channel dead people. if i could see all possibilities of the future i would know why Wesley was being so secretive. whatever it was involved kira i just didn't know how far up that knowledge went.

"the hellbores are in full bloom again." grandma rummages through a utensil drawer and takes out two silver spoons.

i throw my jacket over the arm chair and take a seat. "oh, yeah?" i say crossing my legs beneath the table. the heater was on and i could feel it seeping into my bones.

grandma was a locally renowned award winning horticulturist. clients came to her for guidance and sometimes even on occasion to buy her specially brewed tea bags made of herbs and flowers.

"how's Timothy?" i ask thinking about the cute holiday card i received last year.

timothy was a neighbor and a long time friend of the striker family. at the time of the wedding my mom hadn't taken jetts last name and although mom didn't approve of grandmas lifestyle she liked timothy. 

he treated me like an uncle would and invited us to celebrate birthdays with his children until they grew up and moved out of state to make families of their own. 

unless you were a starving heiress doing time in rehab, residents in this part of the region left because they wanted more choice and lets face it, there weren't super cool careers up for grabs unlike the pick of the liter states over.

grandma smiles affectionately. "very well, considering. actually, you just missed him." she places two bags inside the water, fixing the string so that it landed just outside of the mug.

"oh yeah?" i ask fondly. i got a warm feeling knowing in spite of recent circumstances things stayed as they should.

"mm-hm." grandma hums." he came by yesterday, as a matter of fact." she continues to pour a generous amount in a second blue cup, steam rising and curling from the top of the rim. 

"it was a brief conversation; mostly, he wanted to give me a jar of his preserves because he knows how i enjoy biscuits with jelly with my afternoon tea." after setting the kettle back down she grabs both mugs by the handle. 

careful not to spill on herself, grandma walks over to me.

"here you go. be careful, it's hot." she puts a green mug in front of me and sits in the chair opposite of me with her hands cupped around her elegant vintage mug.

I inhale the chamomile flavor and become flooded with comforting memories from my childhood. "mmm smells good." i take the opportunity during the lull in our conversation and use shell tongs to pluck my usual standard; two cubes of sugar.

i smile looking down at the small ceramic bowels in the center of the table each filled with various forms of sugar from organic honey to square packed white cubes of sugar. if i wanted to get adventurous there was even a creamer.

i grow panicky at the silence dreading the inevitable.

grandma hums while swirling her spoon to dissolve the minimum single sugar cube that she always put in. "now tell me hows your mother and jett doing?" she asks.

and there it was. i didn't like talking about them. grandma had a way of prying it out of me anyway.

"good." i say. "jetts ministering again. mom's the same; she has a new keep the faith circle and so mostly she spends time doing that." i smile tenderly remembering the one time she hosted church dinner. in the end, after rushing through hours of cooking, everyone who came loved the meatloaf. they always did. 

"give it time." grandma looks at me knowingly. "ever since your mother was a child she always resisted my affections." 

And there it was. 

i tried not to feel bitter about it. "i don't know." i confess afflicted by the situation. "i love my mother but she makes it difficult." there were moments when i looked at her and had no idea who she was. 

a part of me speculated if i was a bad daughter for not being able to understand her non-loving, no nonsense approach. Grandma kept the conversation light and stealthily kept Avalons name out of it. After trying to kill me and ending up in a fancy mental institution Avalon was not someone who i cared for and grandma knew it. 

in fact, grandma went so far as to uproot all of us far away from the reminder of my third birthday in order to protect me. i hadn't seen my older sister since and there was no chance of a reconciliation. even after she'd tried killing me there was a lull in the air whenever we talked.

No matter how many thousands of miles we lived apart i couldn't forget Avalon. 

after a few biscuits with jelly and two servings of tea i get up and crack my back. "well, i'm full." i pat my belly content.

grandma makes fun of my protruding stomach and then follows me to the kitchen sink where i wash my hands clean. I could do the dishes later.

"i'm dying to watch cable. we don't get to watch any tv." i tell her.

grandma leads the way to the living room even though i knew where it was.

"that reminds me. i brought down a couple of your things to sift through." she says warmly. 

"you know what?" i smile peacefully. "i think i just might do that." normally i would steer clear of my past but i was feeling nostalgic. looking at old projects was safer than other subjects. 

i kneel down in front of the big plastic container and take off the blue lid, leaving it right there.

it was completely filled with papers and old assignments from previous years going back to fourth grade from what I could see. fortunately grandma was notorious for keeping even the most elementary of things.

she hands me the remote and house telephone. "i'll be in the shed if you need me." grandma threw a matching shawl over her body, wrapped it around her a few times until it hit her back, and made her way to the garage.

i grab a blue folder dated from the fifth grade that had my name written in white cursive on the outside corner.

"okay." i tried not to feel bad that i still drew my flowers with the same commonplace approach. 

I was never imaginative and I didn't have a thirst for creative thinking. the only vision I had was that I could see spirit.

"i have a stew that should be done in a few hours. check on it for me?" she calls on her way out.

"sure thing." i say taking out a familiar ornament with a picture of me in the middle surrounded by green puzzles. nobody would ever guess but i was a chubby kid then.

~~~

i sat down with a soda in the cup holder and a bag of extra buttered popcorn in my lap.

after two hours of sifting through old projects and eating a bowlfull of beef potato stew i was catching up on some pysch re-runs.

last i checked to inform her dinner was ready grandma was still creating a piece of jewelry. (from experience i knew once she got started that she would be cooped up until she was either finished, or too exhausted to bend metal.)

chanel floating room to room was a bit of a distraction. "is she gone?!" she whispers hysterically.

i stuff my mouth with a greasy handful of popped kernels. "she's busy doing something out back. plus, she cant see you." I point out for my benefit more than hers.

chanel huffs crossing her arms. "then how did she know where i was?" she asks blocking the television.

i roll my eyes hoping the paranoia was just a phase. "she dreams. like me grandma has a special connection to the other side with one slight difference. she must have foretold you were coming to spend the night." i tell her moving to get a better view of Gus finding out Shawn had used his credit card for a romantic getaway.

chanel snaps her fingers impatiently. "does your mom know?"

i sigh irritated that i couldn't watch anything because she was in the way. "she's the normal one in the family. hence why she doesn't get along with us." i take a sip of the orange soda to get rid of stray kernels in my mouth.

finally chanel moves away from the tv and floats next to me. "how come i didn't know this?" she whispers looking down at her nails.

i scrounge fore more popcorn in the bag. only unpopped kernels. darn. I contemplated heating another bag. "because you wouldn't believe me." i chew on half-poped seeds.

"maybe so." chanel grins widely. "but i would still hang out with you anyway."

it was eleven by the time grandma came inside.

after heating a bowel she helped me get situated for bed.

"i put some amulets up this morning." she points above the door.

mom believed the reason i stopped acting 'crazy' was the result of countless repeated therapy sessions with Dr. Cambridge. when really it was grandma who taught me the ways of her native american ancestors once she'd found out what i could do. 

or, rather, what i could see.

being a descendant of the watatchi tribe grandma knew of countless mystical incantations and healing methods passed down from generations. basically i learned how to keep the spirit world from bombarding me with sensory overload.

lingering fragrances attached to every square of the lilac handmade comforter.

"it feels good to be back." i pull open the top shelf of my rickety wooden dresser and idly pick out some socks to wear.

"if you don't mind this old lady needs her rest." grandma takes hold of the doorknob while carrying a bowel of half eaten stew.

"sleep well."

"will do. and you as well my dear." she closes the door after her.

i ruffle through an open drawer to get warmer even though the room was already cozy and pick out a simple sweatshirt combo.

~~~

"thanks for everything." i balance my suitcase on the side.

"you're so thin. are they feeding you at that fancy private school? never mind. im just glad i could stuff your belly with enough food." she kisses me on the cheek. 

i cough when she gives me a hug. it didnt seem like it but she was stronger than me.

"thanks for the biscuits." since the width of the can didn't fit inside the suitcase i had two things to carry.

thank goodness a driver was taking me back otherwise i would have to carry extra.

smiling, i wave goodbye.