"How can you accuse me of that?" Eleanor was crying now. "After all I've sacrificed for you."

"You sacrificed, Mother. And you never let Michael and me forget it. You reminded us every step of the way. But what was it all about? All you ever cared about was making Michael and me into your little trophies. Look at what Eleanor accomplished! Not once did you ever make a sacrifice of love. Not the way Grandma Leota did for you and Uncle George."

"You don't know anything about the way it was!"

"You're the one who doesn't know, Mother! You never knew! You never cared to know!"

Face agonized, Eleanor grabbed her purse and tucked it beneath her arm. "I won't stay and listen to this!" She sailed from the room like the Titanic, full steam ahead, straight for the iceberg.

"That's right, Mother! Run away!" Annie called after her. "That's what you always do when things don't go your way, isn't it? Go ahead. Leave!" With that, she sat again, weeping.

"There are things you don't know, Annie."

At Fred's quiet comment, Annie's eyes flashed at him. "Don't you dare say a word against my grandmother, Fred. All you know about her is what my mother's told you." She clasped her hands tightly as though trying to hold in the violence of her emotions.

His face was filled with compassion. "I wasn't going to speak against Leota." He sat down beside Annie and put his hand over hers. "Your mother loves Leota more deeply than you can understand, honey. She's just afraid of showing it."

"Well, she better hurry up and learn how!"

Corban couldn't listen any longer. He needed to get out of the room and walk. Somewhere. Anywhere. All the emotions pouring out of Annie and Eleanor had his own in a riot. He'd had to grit his teeth not to leap up and join in the fray, so instead he went down the corridor and stopped at the emergency counter. "Any word?"

"We'll let the family know as soon as we hear anything, Mr. Solsek."

"Thanks. Thanks a lot." He stalked away, banging the doors open and striding outside.

Eleanor Gaines was hunched against the wall, her coat drawn tightly around her, her face ravaged by tears. When she saw it was Corban, she turned her face away.

Mouth tight, he walked on.

Leota tried not to let fear reign, but that was difficult in an unfamiliar environment surrounded by strangers. Lights and sounds . . . a tunnel. What on earth were they doing to her? She faded in and out, dreaming peacefully of her garden for a while. Then someone would move her and she'd wake up, confused and annoyed at so rude an interruption. Finally, she roused from sleep, found light coming in a window, and saw Annie sitting in a chair beside her bed.

"Hi, Grandma." She leaned closer, smiling. "You're going to be all right."

"Where am I, dear? What's happened?"

Annie frowned. "I don't understand, Grandma." She looked frightened.

Well, no more than Leota was frightened, hearing the garbled sounds coming from her own mouth. What was wrong with her tongue? Frustrated, she tried again, but only confused words came out.

Leota started to cry.

Annie's blue eyes welled with tears too. She stroked Leota's arm-at least Leota could see her doing it, but she couldn't feel a thing.

"Am I dying?"

Annie glanced up at someone out of Leota's range of vision. "Does she understand me?"

"There's no way to know," a woman said. "Just keep talking to her. She's responding. That's a good sign."

"Can I tell her what's going on?" Annie said in a quieter voice.

"It can't hurt. It might make her less restless."

Leota could hear the sound of wheels rattling softly.

"Corban found you, Grandma. He called the paramedics. You're in the hospital. You've had a slight stroke. Your right side is affected; that's why you can't move very much. And it affected your speech, I guess. Do you understand, Grandma?" She wiped the tears from her cheeks. "They've given you medication that will help. And you're on an IV drip. You were dehydrated, so they want to get your fluids up to normal again."

Leota listened, taking it all in. Though her body wasn't working, her mind grasped the situation. She didn't know whether to thank God she was alive or ask Him why. Why hadn't He let her go? What use was she now?

Lord, is this why You put it in my head to get everything sorted out when I did? This is a dirty trick. I am not pleased. Not-one-bit.

She must have dozed off, because when she opened her eyes again, Annie was gone. Time passed, though how much she didn't know for sure. People came and went. Once she opened her eyes to see Eleanor standing above her, pale and drawn. She looked every year of her age, which made Leota sad.

"Eleanor . . ." It didn't come out right, and her daughter looked even more distressed. "Eleanor . . ."

Mouth trembling, Eleanor looked away. "What do we do now, Mother? What do we do?"

Until that moment, Leota hadn't thought much about what lay ahead for her. She closed her eyes, afraid of what she might see in Eleanor's when she looked at her again. The words convalescent hospital loomed in her mind, bringing with them all the dire possibilities. Fear swept through her like wildfire. This is not the way I want it to end, Lord. Don't let them toss me in a care facility and forget I ever lived. What will happen to me now? Oh, God, I'm so afraid. No one could understand her, not even Annie, who loved her so. Did they all think she'd lost her mind?

She could hear people talking around her, over her, about her. The doctor and nurses discussed her condition together. The only one who thought to talk to her about it was Annie. And it wasn't good news.

The daily routine frustrated Leota. She was examined, turned, washed, exercised, fed, turned again and again and again. Once she cursed, mortified when that one word came out clear as a bell. She looked into the nurse's eyes in apology, wondering what the young woman thought of an old lady swearing.

The nurse smiled. "I know it's frustrating, Mrs. Reinhardt. It's slow going, but you're improving. Swearing is a good sign in this case."

Grand. In a week, I'll be cursing like a sailor.

"The doctor is pleased with your progress."

That makes one of us.

The nurse gently rolled Leota onto her side while she remade the bed beneath her. Finishing one side, she rolled Leota onto her other side to complete the task. Clean sheets every day, just like Jackie O. Though Leota doubted Jackie had soiled hers. The nurse changed the top sheet and replaced the blankets, snugging them down and tucking them beneath the mattress.

"There you go, Mrs. Reinhardt. Clean and neat as a whistle." Leota heard a clang as the nurse brought up the bars on one side of the bed, and then on the other.

Lord, is this what life comes down to at the end? I've been washed, diapered, and tucked into my crib like a baby. I'm even toothless again, my dentures in that glass on the side table. It's humiliating to be so helpless. And so useless.

The nurse pushed the curtain back so Leota could be seen from the hallway by any passerby. So much for privacy. Leota tried not to let it bother her. She supposed it was easier for the nurses to check on her that way, see if she was still breathing.

There was no use wasting time. Determined to get better, Leota tried to practice speaking. She worked at it until the woman in the bed next to hers buzzed the nurse. "Can you give that old lady something to make her sleep? She hasn't shut up all afternoon. She gives me the heebie-jeebies."

The nurse spoke softly, soothing the other patient, who had had a gallbladder surgery. The poor woman was in pain and asking for more medication. "I'm sorry," the nurse told her, "I can't give you anything for another hour." The poor dear began to cry, and the nurse drew the curtain between the two beds. Leota felt as though a door had been slammed in her face.

Someone turned on the television. Probably hoping to distract the other patient and get her mind off her pain and troubles for a little while. Leota thought of Bernard, sitting in his chair, listening to radio programs, ball games, news, and later watching television. Milton Berle. I Love Lucy. Dinah Shore. "See the U.S.A., in your Chevrolet . . ."

After Bernard died, she turned off the television and left it unplugged for two years.

She thought of George on Thanksgiving Day. "I'm just going to check the score." And Jeanne, eyes filled with hurt and frustration, saying, "Where's a blackout when you need one?"

Oh, Lord. Tears ran down into Leota's ears and hair.

Oh, Jesus, does nothing ever change in this world? Is it always like this? The sins of the father visited upon the sons? Where are the blessings You promised? She could feel the despair settling into her bones, bearing down on her spirit, crushing her.

What use am I to anyone now, Lord?

God, what purpose have You in this suffering?

"Suzie, I know I'll be letting you down, but I have to do this. I've thought about nothing else over the last few days, and I can't bear the thought of my grandmother going into one of those convalescent hospitals. And that's what the doctor is saying will have to happen. I want to take her home."

"You don't have to explain, Annie." Susan's eyes were compassionate as she listened, her hands clasped between her knees. "Don't worry about the rent. I can make it okay. There's a girl at the restaurant who's been looking for another place to live. She was just talking to me about it yesterday. Her roommates are partying all the time and she's not into drugs. She wants out. She'd move in tomorrow if she could."

Annie sat down, relieved. "Oh, good. Then you're not upset with me?"

"Sad, yes. Disappointed, sure. You're my best friend, and I'll miss you. But upset? No." She leaned back on the couch and crossed her legs, lotus fashion. "Have you thought this over really well, Annie? This isn't a small task you're thinking about taking on."

"I know. I'll have to take things as they come. I don't mind admitting I'm scared. I'm not sure I even know how to begin."

"My mother could help, you know. She's done a lot of practical nursing in homes."

Annie had forgotten all about Susan's mother going back to school when her youngest started junior high. Maryann Carter had gotten her degree in nursing two years before Susan had graduated from high school. She'd worked as a licensed practical nurse for years. Now she was a registered nurse. "I don't think Grandma has the money to pay a private nurse, Suzie. And I know I don't."

She shook her head. "I didn't mean that. Mom could tell you how to make sure the house is safe. She would give you some fast training and resources. She knows a lot about taking care of the elderly. She should. Remember, she's been taking care of Granny Addie for the past few years. Granny hasn't had a stroke, but she's had her share of health problems. Diabetes. Hypertension. Arthritis. She can't do a lot on her own anymore. She's lucky to be in a big family."

"And a loving one."

Annie served Susan's mother coffee in Leota's kitchen. Maryann Carter had agreed to meet her at Grandma's house as soon as Annie explained the situation.

"This is such a pretty kitchen," Maryann said, looking around. "Sunny yellow-and-white trim, and those lovely flowers."

"Grandma said I could do whatever I liked in the house. I had a lot of fun doing this."

"I wish you'd make my kitchen look like this." She laughed. "I might want to spend more time in it." She lifted the pretty porcelain teacup and took a sip of coffee. She grew pensive, gazing out at the garden for a long moment before she looked at Annie again. "Before we begin, set my mind at ease. Have you considered how this will change your life, Annie?"

Annie didn't answer right away. She knew Susan's mother wasn't looking for a quick, altruistic answer. She had thought about the changes she would have to make, the things she would have to give up . . . but she hadn't been able to stop thinking about what would happen to her grandmother if she didn't step in. "Yes, I have."

"You'll have to put your own goals on hold for an indefinite period of time. It could be a long time."

"I already have. I quit school yesterday." Her instructor had heard her out and said he was sorry to see her leave, but he understood. He also gave her some good news. Her painting had sold, and a check would be coming in the mail. She had almost wept when he told her. She had wondered how she could possibly move in with her grandmother without a job to carry her expenses. The last thing she wanted to do was be a financial burden. She knew her grandmother was living on Social Security and that it was barely enough to take care of her expenses without adding Annie's to them. Though the painting hadn't sold for a great deal of money, it was enough to pay her share for some time to come.

Susan's mother nodded. "I know you're committed to this. And I can tell you love your grandmother very much. But . . . do you know what you're getting into as far as your grandmother's physical care?"

"I think I do."

"Well, let's see if you do." Maryann pushed the cup and saucer aside and folded her hands on the table. "You'll need to exercise every joint and every muscle of your grandmother's body so that her limbs and muscles don't waste away or draw up and thicken. You'll need to have a routine so that you can do these range-of-motion exercises four times a day. Ulcers can form over bony areas where constant pressure breaks down tissue and blood flow slows. That means you'll need to turn your grandmother every two hours, day and night. She'll need good nutrition, which means you must plan menus and cook three meals a day, every day. Besides that, there's the very personal side of care. Hygiene is extremely important. Bathing, brushing her teeth, combing her hair, taking care of her fingernails and toenails, washing her after she urinates or has a bowel movement . . ."

Annie blushed.

Susan's mother smiled. "If you're going to take this task on, Annie, the first thing you're going to have to do is put aside your feelings of embarrassment about bodily functions. There's no room for modesty. You'll need to concentrate on making your grandmother feel less self-conscious and more comfortable about all these things. If you're embarrassed, she'll be embarrassed."

Annie nodded.

"Your grandmother will need a social life, but not so much of one that she's overstimulated. You're going to need to plan for time off."

"I can handle this. I know I can."

"No, you can't. You have to be realistic, Annie. I know you're young and strong, but you cannot do this all on your own. We're talking about twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, thirty days a month for however long your grandmother lives. No human being can do that alone. You need a care plan. You need help."

"I've prayed about all this, Mrs. Carter."

"I think you're old enough now to call me Maryann, honey. And I know you've prayed about all this. So have I. So has Susan." She looked at her. "So has Sam."

Sam. Oh, dear.

"I don't have to tell you how my son feels about you, do I?" Maryann's eyes glistened. "Tom and I have always looked upon you as a daughter. We even prayed Sam would notice you someday, and now that he has . . ." She gave a slight shrug. "Well, Sam, like the rest of us, is going to have to learn to wait upon the Lord." She searched Annie's eyes.

Annie looked back at her. "I love Sam, but . . ."

"He's like a brother."

"Not exactly." Annie looked down at her coffee cup. A brother wouldn't make her pulse race the way Sam did. "I don't know how to explain it." Or if she should.

"Sam will be coming around, and he'll be trying to change your mind about all this."

"He can try, but it won't change anything. I've prayed about it. I've prayed long and hard."

Maryann nodded. "Prayer is a good start. Now we have to take action." She stood. "Let's go have a look at your grandmother's bedroom. We'll start there." She looked around as she went. "Good," she said, standing in the corridor. "There's room enough for a wheelchair to get through these doorways." Standing in the bedroom, she looked around. "Do you think your grandmother would mind if you repainted this room?"

"I don't think so."

"Use warm, bright, contrasting colors. What you did in the kitchen would be wonderful. You'll need to remove some of the furnishings. It's too crowded. And those pretty porcelain figurines will have to be moved. Too easy to knock over and break. Maybe you can pull these heavy curtains back during the day." She waved her hand as dust billowed out. "And have them cleaned."

Maryann looked at the ceiling. "We can have a pole put in beside the bed. Tom knows how to do that. Medicare will pay for it. The pole will be something your grandmother can hold on to when she's getting up. With help, of course."

And so it went. Annie spent the rest of the afternoon following Maryann around the house and taking copious notes on what needed to be changed, added, or taken away in the bedroom, bathroom, living room, dining room, and kitchen. By the time they finished, Annie felt overwhelmed by details. "I had no idea . . ."

"You can always change your mind, Annie."

"Oh, no, I don't want to do that. I just see what needs to be done now." She laughed. "I'm going to have to call in the cavalry." Susan. Arba. Corban. And Sam, too, if he'd be willing to pitch in time and labor. She felt feverish with excitement. One day at a time, one task at a time.

"Do you think your mother would help you?"

Annie shook her head.

Maryann took her hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry, Annie."

Her eyes burned hot with tears. "I can't think about my mother right now or what she wants. Grandma Leota takes precedence. I can't stand the thought of seeing Grandma put away somewhere."

"There are some very good care facilities in the area."