Saving Gracie Read Online Free Page A

times of trouble,
    Mother Mary comes to me,
    Speaking words of wisdom, Let it be.
    There will be an answer, Let it be.
     
    She sifted through the laundry list of mother-daughter disagreements over the years. She never won arguments with her mother. She was a first-class wuss. How had that happened? During her teenage years disagreeing with her mother was a constant. But, so what? Who didn’t? All Grace wanted was for her mother to stay out of her business and Kathryn made sure to plop herself smack-dab in the middle of everything . Grace recalled her one and only slumber party, when her mother had stayed up all night with her and the few friends she had, pumping everyone for gossip. M-O-R-T-I-F-Y-I-N-G.
    Fast-forwarding several years, she landed on a defining ah-ha moment. After Adam’s proposal, the mere mention of a pending wedding had sent Kathryn into overdrive, bringing a particular lunch into full focus:
     
    Grace studied the menu, ordered iced tea, and debated between Cobb salad and the bacon cheeseburger. Commotion from across the table caused her to lower her menu just below eye level. Pushing silverware and water glass to one side Kathryn assembled a small, but neat and efficient, workspace. Then, from her oversized satchel purse came fabric swatches, a copy of Modern Bride and a legal pad with a list covering the entire first page. Round two from the magical purse produced a small calculator, two pencils and an eraser.
    “Ready to start?” Kathryn leaned across the table, her hands clasped.
    Grace grabbed a passing waiter. “Excuse me,” she said. “Scratch the iced tea. I need a chardonnay. And stay close. I’m going to more.” She pointed to her mother. “Don’t worry. She tips well.”
     
    From then on, life became easier when Grace learned to swing with her mother’s suggestions rather than lock horns with the powers that be.
    “And now she’s dying,” Grace muttered. “What will I do?”
    ~~~
    The week before Easter, to Grace’s surprise, Adam approached Kathryn again with the idea of hospice. Her time awake and out of bed had shortened considerably. To everyone’s relief Kathryn relented. The following morning the hospice social worker arrived, introduced herself as Anna, and put the help Grace desperately needed into action.
    “When she sleeps she seems so restless.” Grace explained to Anna how her mother pulled at the bedding and thrashed her head from side to side.
    “Let me spend some time with her,” Anna suggested. Thirty minutes later she emerged from the makeshift bedroom. “Your mother hasn’t made her Easter baskets for the kids.”             
    “Easter baskets?” Grace’s shoulders dropped. “Seriously?”
    “That’s why she’s anxious,” Anna said. “I know it sounds trivial, but right now it’s really important to her.” Anna paused. “I’d do it soon.”
    “Easter baskets.” Grace scratched her head.
    “I’ve got some time. Go now,” Anna suggested.
    Grace walked into the study and explained her errand to her mother. Kathryn’s eyes widened with effort. Her lips formed a weak smile. In a barely audible voice, she ordered Grace to write down what she needed for the baskets.
    “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Grace jerked a cart loose at CVS and meandered through the aisles. The shelves, mostly bare this close to Easter, managed to produce some colored grass, two halfway decent baskets and an assortment of candy. At the last minute Grace threw in two pastel-colored stuffed bunnies she found in a bin near the checkout counter.
    “It shouldn’t be much longer,” Anna whispered on her way out the door, giving Grace a warm hug.
    Grace could only nod.
    Moving a small table next to Kathryn’s bed, Grace spread out the Easter goods. On request, she carefully raised her mother to an upright position. There, mother and daughter spent the better part of an hour filling and arranging Easter baskets. With the task complete, Kathryn