FOUR

Grandma Jo was on her feet in an instant. Mark caught her mumble something regarding cleaning her house as she headed for the kitchen. Turning in his chair to face her, he called out, “Don’t fret about the house. We are not going to be wearing white gloves.” 


She turned in his direction and frowned.


 “You’d better not.
You know that I’m a lot better cook than a cleaner.


“I can help,” Sami said in a quiet voice behind him.
“I like to clean.


Turning back toward Sami, Mark visualized her pantry crammed full of cleaning supplies and chuckled.
 


“Yeah, Grandma Jo, this plan might benefit you both.


“That’s not funny,” Grandma Jo quirked.


Mark smiled at Sami, thinking Grandma Jo’s house was full of love but appeared messy to all that entered.
He remembered her off-handed remark to him on his first visit. She knew where everything was located; she just had an unorthodox way of organizing things. Sami returned Mark’s smile as she rose to her feet to assist Grandma Jo when a knock on the front door caused her to change directions.


Mark’s curiosity bolted him from his seat, and he raced after Sami, who was just entering the living room.
He stopped in the middle of the room and watched as she opened the closet door instead of the front door. He was about to call out when he saw her reach for what appeared to be a purse. With it securely in her hands, she backed out of the closet doorway and closed it. Doing a quarter turns reached for the front doorknob with her left hand and opened it. On the other side of the door, Mark saw a young man, maybe in his late teens, holding a large box in his arms. Sami stepped back without a word, and the teen entered. He eyed Mark as he passed, but refrained from speaking. With Sami right behind him, he carried his treasures toward the kitchen. Mark followed the two through the passageway, while the teen deposited the box on the table. He turned and held out a piece of paper toward Sami. Taking the paper, she sat, and reaching into her purse, withdrew her checkbook. Mark looked back at him, and without the bundles in his arms, he noticed that the young man was wearing a vest displaying a local grocery store’s name. Finally, it occurred to Mark that this was her delivery day. The young man was eyeing him strangely. Mark stepped forward and offered his hand to him.


“Dr.
Mark Stevens,” he introduced himself.


The teen's eyes widened at the introduction as he took the offered hand.
He was about to say something, when, behind him, he heard his name.


“David?
” Grandma Jo asked.


Maintaining the grip of the handshake, they both turned in the direction of Grandma Jo, standing in the kitchen.
David released Mark’s hand, walking over to her.


“Grandma Jo, what are you doing here?
” he asked, giving the startled woman a big, bear hug.


“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she replied with equal pressure in the hug.


Mark crossed his arms across his chest and waited for them to break their hold.
He glanced at Sami and found her still in the process of writing a check, with the cursed blank expression again on her face. Mark grimaced and turned his attention back to the two, still embraced, in the kitchen. He cleared his throat to get their attention. They broke their embrace at this verbal signal and turned facing Mark. He raised his eyebrows at them.Grandma Jo placed her hand on David’s arm. 


“Mark, this is David Becker.
” She looked up at David and smiled and hasn't seen him for about three years. . .when he left for college.” David nodded his agreement. “He is also a former patient of Dr. Peterson’s,” she explained.


“What do you mean also?
” David asked.


Grandma Jo swept her arm toward Sami.


“Oh,” David replied thoughtfully, “I have been wondering if she was under treatment.


“What do you mean by that?
” Mark broke in.


David looked directly at Mark.
“I have been coming here once a week for the past year. That is when I started working full time at the store. Like Mark searched around for pen and paper. He had to contact these people. Mark found the needed items and hurriedly wrote down the address. Slipping this paper into his pocket, he completed filling the box with the letters and photo album. Placing the lid on the box, he made a beeline directly to the back of the house. He knew precisely where this box belonged.


When he reached the first doorway on his left, her craft room, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Making a quarter turn to the left, he now faced her painting of the crying rose. Again, the painting reached out to him and touched his soul. He hated to do it, but he had to take the painting off the easel and hide it for now. Picking up the painting, he knew that someday and somehow this painting would be displayed, but not at this time. Reversing the painting, he leaned it against the other canvasses on the floor. He scanned the rest of the room, satisfied that the lids on the two matching cedar chests here were closed. As Mark headed for the door, he saw something shining on the floor in front of one of the chests. It was the broken glass that had fallen out of her deceased mother’s purse, Sami had opened the night before, he surmised. He made a mental note to pick it up on his way back. He left the room, taking a few steps farther down the hall to reach her bedroom. Mark hesitated a moment, surprised by the room’s appearance. Grandma Jo had been busy, he deduced, for Sami’s bed appeared exactly as it had been yesterday when he first stepped into the room. She had even removed the extra pillows that had been required last night. On the end of the bed, neatly stacked, were clothes, some that Mark had seen in Sami’s dresser drawers. Next to the clothes, Mark noted Grandma Jo’s empty tote bag. On the floor below were tennis shoes.


 “Grandma Jo, you are an angel,” he said aloud.
Mark again found himself awed by her insight. His focus was drawn away from the bed as he saw his intended destination, the open cedar chest, on the far side of the bed. Stepping around the bed and the office chair that Grandma Jo had fallen asleep in the night before, he moved to the chest. The items within, Mark knew now, were memories of her life with J.W. He had to move a few things around to make room for the box, but he was able to do it quickly.


Closing the lid, he moved to the chair and lifted it easily.
Carrying the chair back into her office, he took his time not wanting to damage either the chair or the walls. In the office, he had to maneuver around her journals, which were still spread out in front of the open cedar chest. With the chair back in its proper position, Mark turned and gazed at the journals. Getting down on his knees, he started gathering them together. Placing them neatly back in the chests, he knew that these had held the key which let him into her world. He found himself wishing for more time so he could read them all, but that wish would have to wait. After placing the last journal into the chest, he closed the lid. Returning to his feet, he reached down and picked up the framed portrait of Sami and J.W. on their wedding day. When he saw the photograph last night, his focus was on the man in the picture, but now, he was able to see Sami. The camera had loved Sami, Mark thought. She just radiated the true feelings of love and happiness, so young and so full of life. He studied the photograph as he made his way back to her bedroom. He recognized her potential and a new determination awakened in him to reach her. He was going to bring that woman in the kitchen back together. Needing and wanting this woman to glow again, he opened the cedar chest and placed the portrait on top of the box. Closing the chest, he moved to the end of the bed.


He roughly started stuffing the clothes in the bag.
He noted that behind the clothes were her toiletries, which were laid out on a towel. Grandma Jo, you are truly amazing. He rolled up the towel and jammed it on top of the tote. Before he picked up the bag, he stepped into the bathroom and removed several sheets of tissues from the box on the counter. He returned to the craft room, and squatting in front of the broken glass, proceeded to carefully pick up the pieces. Now with the glass securely wrapped in the tissue, he pondered whether he should keep it, but knowing that it was unnecessary, he tossed the tissue into the nearby waste paper basket. Wiping his hands on his pant leg, he exited the room. Re-entering the bedroom, Mark saw Sami standing at the end of the bed staring at the tote on the floor.


When Mark approached Sami, she caught his movement out of the corner of her eye.
Not looking at him, she rushed to the master bathroom. Entering the door, she closed and locked it. Caught off guard, Mark heard the door lock. Great, he thought, wondering if he was going to have to break it down to get to her, and knowing that right now he was just crazy enough to do it. He sized up the door and patted his shoulder a couple of times to prepare it for the impact with the door. Moving around the bed, he readied himself. At that moment, he heard the door unlock. Greatly relieved, he stepped back a few feet. Exiting the bathroom, Sami made eye contact with Mark, pointing to the tote bag at the end of the bed. 


“I gather that I’m packed,” she expressed.
 


Mark nodded his affirmative response, feeling tense at her statement.
 


“Then, I am ready.
” She reached for the tote bag and her shoes and left the room. 


Mark felt the tension slowly drain from his body as he watched her leave.
Gathering himself quickly, he followed her to the living room. She placed the tote on the couch, which he noticed already held her coat and purse. She sat down and put on her shoes. Keep the flow going smoothly, Mark thought and walked over and picked up Molly’s leash. 


“I’ll go and get Molly and her things.
Meet you out front, ” he proposed to her in an upbeat tone. She only nodded her head in response to him. 


As he entered the kitchen, he heard her voice reminding him not to forget Molly’s brush.


“I’ll get it,” he answered back as he picked up the two bags of Molly’s food.
 


He noted that the cordless phone was gone.
She must have replaced it on its base in the living room where the package had been moments earlier. He suddenly felt overjoyed knowing that his removal of the package and its contents was completed just in the nick of time. As he exited the back door, he had an overwhelming urge to whistle a happy tune. What the heck, he decided, and the tune filled the air around him. Picking up the brush, he secured Molly’s leash to her collar and made his way to the gate still in high spirits. Coming around the corner, he spotted Sami standing in the middle of the driveway holding the handle of the tote bag in her right hand. The lost expression on her face took the air out of his lungs. Steadying himself against falling into her trap, he picked up the tune where he had left off and walked directly to her. Hearing his whistling, Sami glanced up and saw them coming toward her. Her lost feeling evaporated into thin air. Smiling, she realized that the man’s sheer presence was calming to her.


Mark handed Sami the leash and took the tote from her hand as he passed.


 “This way, little lady, your chariot awaits.
” Still whistling, he walked directly to his truck on the street. He did not peer back, hoping she would follow. He dropped the items in his hands over the tailgate of his truck. Retrieving his keys from his pocket, he pressed the proper button on his car alarm remote to unlock the doors. Stepping to the passenger door, he opened it, and still holding onto the door, glanced back. He was pleased to find Sami and Molly directly behind him. He opened the wing door of the extended cab and signaled Molly to jump. Sami held Molly back.


“Molly should ride in the bed of the truck.
I don’t want to damage your truck,” Sami explained.


“Nonsense,” Mark retorted, pointing to the area behind the seats.
“As you can see, it has already been initiated by my dog.


Sami saw that the floor of the area was covered with a large comforter.
She gathered that whatever vehicle seating should be there, either had been removed or folded-out to make the area one level. She giggled a little, thinking that this man spoiled his dog worse than she did Molly.


“Okay, if you say so,” she said, releasing her grip on Molly’s leash.


Mark smiled and directed Molly up into the truck.
Closing the wing door behind her, he reached out for Sami’s hand. Sami took his offered hand, and he guided her into the vehicle. Mark closed the passenger door and almost sprinted around to the driver’s door. Getting in and starting the truck, he glanced over and saw Sami staring straight ahead, down the street, not at the house. Good, one hurdle over successfully, he thought, as he drove away from the little, white, house with the light blue trim.

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