II: Home
Blake
Blake took a deep breath as her ride pulled away, gazing at her grandparents' house. It was a modest, but nice three-bedroom in the suburbs. Single-story, but covering a lot of ground so things didn't feel quite so squished. The lawn and hedges were bare from getting into winter, and there was no snow so far, but the evergreens on the side yard and in the back were as lush and green as ever. On gloomy days like today where she could almost smell the water in the air, Blake thought the colors looked even more saturated than usual. She smiled at that.
As she walked up toward the door, Blake felt a bit of the stress she'd been holding since entering the address into her phone for her mom's house--her old house--slip away. She'd never had anything to worry about with her grandparents. They were the reason she'd never really run away from home. She'd just taken the occasional abrupt and often emotional opportunity to visit and spend the night. Before she could even knock, the handle jiggled, and the door swung inward, revealing her grandparents smiling faces.
Henry, her grandfather, stood a little hunched, one hand gripping the cane she'd bought him last year after he'd complained about his old one a few times. It was dark wood with a silver handle in the shape of a roaring lion. His skin looked a bit worn, but no more than it had last time Blake had seen him. At ninety-three, Blake was just happy her grandpa was still able to walk around without too much trouble. He gave her his usual lopsided grin from under his Air Force hat. He'd chosen his WWII one today instead of the one for Korea, or the one for his service as a whole.
In front of him, holding the door open, Blake's grandmother, Bea, smiled up at her. She was even shorter than Blake, at exactly five feet, and Blake could tell she'd re-colored her red hair recently. Her grandma was only eighty-two compared to Blake's grandpa, but she didn't look it in Blake's opinion.
"Blake," her grandma said, stepping forward and giving her an appraising look as she put her hands on her hips, "You told me you changed it, but I had no idea how good it would look. Oh, come here, dear."
Blake found herself smiling as she dropped her bags and gathered her grandma into a tight hug, eyes a little hot.
I didn't realize how much I missed them.
"Thank you, Grandma, I missed you."
She looked up and smiled, "You, too, Grandpa."
He grinned at her over her grandma's head and reached out to ruffle her hair, which made her giggle.
"You always do such a good job with the colors, kid," he said, "I'm still not convinced it's not a wig."
"Oh, that's just because your eyes are bad, dear," her grandma said, releasing her from the hug and smiling up at her, "She's got just a little black showing at the roots."
Her grandma peered at it a moment longer, "I think that works, though, it makes it look more natural--as natural as blue can look, anyway."
Blake laughed at that and her grandma took a deep breath and gave an exaggerated eye-roll, "I'm still gonna miss the red, since we were almost matching, but the blue looks really good, Dear. It fits your skin tone better."
"Thanks grandma."
Her grandma smiled. Then she blinked and moved back into the house, nudging her husband out of the way.
"Come on in, Blake. Don't let me keep you standing there. We were having baked salmon and asparagus with some barbeque sauce just how your grandpa likes it, but I put a pot on when you called, and the mac and cheese should be done in about ten minutes."
Picking up her bags, Blake shuffled in past her grandparents and set her things down next to the front hall. She smiled, breathing in the warm air of the house and the smell of salted, boiling water.
This is what I needed. A house with people in it.
Blake had roommates for a reason. Sure, she spent a lot of time by herself, but she didn't like being completely alone. Her mom's house had felt too cold and empty, even when her mom had been alive. Not like this.
Blake gave her grandma another hug before letting her hurry back to the kitchen, then wrapped her arms around her grandpa.
"How ya doin', kiddo?" He asked, voice soft as he patted her back.
Blake squeezed him, then pulled back to meet his eyes, "I'm actually doing good, Grandpa. Really good. Being at mom's was a little..."
She made a face and shrugged, "But it's nice being home again. It's nice being here."
He smiled, "You know you're always welcome, kid. Your grandma cooks better when you're here." "I heard that!"
Blake giggled as her Grandpa rolled his eyes and ushered her toward the kitchen, and lowered his voice, "Of course, now, she can hear me."
Once her grandpa was seated at the table, Blake ran to the restroom, then came back and helped her grandma set the table and serve the food.
"Are you planning on visiting your father, dear?"
Blake couldn't help biting her lip as she nodded, "I called and made sure I would be able to visit tomorrow. Would you mind if I borrowed the car?"
"Take it whenever you need, dear," her grandma said, waving her off, "As long as you say 'hi' for us and maybe pick up some groceries if we need, it's yours."
