The Marital Bed

My sister-in-law Alice half-heartedly offered to take over, but it wasn't what we needed. She worked, and traveled. She was only thirty-two, and after two failed marriages was having trouble settling down. She lived an hour away, and would have either had to quit her job, or commute well over an hour each way during rush hour.

Roger and Caroline's issues were similar. Dana worked downtown, well over an hour from the property during rush hour. They lived twenty miles away. Dana couldn't do anything about her job; she was two years away from a pension. Roger had officially retired, but was still working part-time, also downtown. They could do it, but Grandma would still be alone during the day, and Caroline's commute would be over three hours a day.

Dana worked nearby. I worked from home. The kids would go to the same high school and middle school. Only the elementary school was different, and if we kept our house, then even that wouldn't have to change. It was the ideal solution.

Now we just had to explain it to Grandma. We had the kids watching over her, and they were baking. I pulled Billy to the side, and asked how she was.

"Good. She's knows who we are, and she's sad about Grandpa. We're making his favorite oatmeal cookies." I felt a pride in my boy that filled my heart.

The timing was right. When the cookies went in the oven we brought her into the living room. Dana explained it.

"Grandma, Logan wants us to move in here with you. You have the space, and the kids love the big yard. They wouldn't even have to change school districts. We want to be here for you."

She looked at me. "You want this?"

I nodded. "More than anything. Like you said, Grandpa was the best man I ever knew, and if he can't be here for you. I will. As long as you'll have us. We love you. I want the kids to see you every day while they're growing up. Please say you'll take us in."

She looked around at her daughter, Roger, and Alice. "You don't have to do this," she said nervously. "I'll be fine. I can—"

"Nonna, the timer went off," my little one came barreling in. "Can I take the cookies out of the oven? Billy says I'm too young but I'm not!"

Grandma grinned. "Let Billy do this one, alright? You and me, we'll do the sugar cookies."

Caroline pouted and stomped her foot. "It's not fair! I'll be careful."

Grandma pulled her close. "Of course you can do it. But sometimes we let the boys think they're in charge. It makes them feel important. You and me, we'll bake lots more, alright? And you make sure they do it right. Check the bottoms to make sure they're done."

Caroline nodded quickly, and tore off running to the kitchen. "Nonna says I need to check ..."

The quiet in the room afterward was short lived. Grandma looked at Dana smiling. "So much like her mother," she said. Then she looked over at me. "When?"

"Immediately. We'll start tomorrow, making space. We'll use part of Grandpa's workshop to store whatever won't go in the house that we want to keep. I think if we clear out the attic space we can make a bedroom for Billy so all the kids have their own room. You'll stay in your room, and Dana and I will take the room at the end of the hall. If that's alright by you."

She nodded. "I need to check on the cookies, before the little heathens burn the house down." She got up and walked back to the kitchen, and we spent a couple of hours working out the details of how things would change. It was the right thing to do, but that didn't make it any easier.

* * *

I explained the issues to my project manager, and promised I'd put in whatever hours I could for the next week, but I'd likely miss any meetings, and be unavailable much of the time. He was a good guy, and assured me there was still plenty of time to finish my sections of the code before integration and wished me luck.

We hired some day laborers outside the diner on Main Street where they gathered. Roger had plenty of time on his hands, since he'd retired three months earlier. He was still working part-time, but only around 20 hours a week, and would often show up late afternoon, to help wherever he could.

Those first couple of days after the funeral, Alice stayed with us while she and Dana handled things at home, packing with the help of some friends and hired help. I, Roger, and our workers started at Grandma's, moving things, clearing out bedrooms, a study, and starting in on the attic. We had the kids moved in one day, and Alice spent the night at Grandma's with the kids, while Dana and I worked late into the night.

Dana was incredibly appreciative of my sacrifice, no matter how hard I tried to convince her I wanted to do it. The bed got a workout, with the house empty, and we even got a couple of quickies in the next morning. Taking apart our bed was an emotional experience, and we made a special trip just for that, reassembling it in the biggest guest bedroom where it barely fit. We talked about changes to the house, adding an extra room, along with a full bathroom, so we could be comfortable. The thought of sharing a bathroom with the kids for the next dozen years wasn't acceptable.

It took three days to get us moved in, and the house was constantly in turmoil. Grandma mostly stayed out of the way, quiet and often confused. She was having a difficult time, and she wasn't all there most of the time. Mornings were bad when she first woke up, seemingly lost. It was painful to see.

We didn't want to rent our house out until after the new school year started in three months. That way we could keep the kids in the same schools. It made finances a little tight. Grandpa's will helped a good bit. Grandma got most everything, of course. But we found out a little about how much he had stashed away from selling the land. He was a smart old coot, and had managed to invest wisely, including getting a piece of the management company that purchased most of the acreage. They had a steady income, their social security, and over three million left off the sale of the property. I had no idea. It turned out the land sold for seven million, along with ten percent of the management company that operated the shopping center that covered sixteen acres of the land sold.

Dana and Alice each received two hundred grand. The will had been recently updated, and Caroline was responsible for Grandma's keep, with full access to all their money. When Dana and I told them we'd be using a part of her inheritance to update the old house, and add a new Master bedroom suite, Dana's mother insisted that the family money would pay for it. I lost that argument.

We had quotes in two days, and a building crew on site by the end of the week. Things still were hectic around the old place, but most of that was outdoors, and inside we started to calm down.

Their basement was an outdated cluttered space, but it was enough for me to be able to put in an office, and get some work done. Those were long days for me. Nearly three weeks of working odd hours, staying up late, laboring around the house, and getting things settled in.

The kids seemed to take the move the easiest. They loved their new rooms, the big property, and the fact that they were right next door to the park. We were all surprised when the kids asked why they couldn't go to the school right there, rather than have to be driven to school every morning. What they said made sense. Billy would be going to middle school the next year, and Caroline was just starting. There would be no upheaval for them. Roger was torn between leaving his friends, and starting anew, but after a couple of weeks in the new house and hanging out at the park, he had brand new 'best' friends, and was willing to make the change. That made our lives easier and we put the old house up for sale.

We've always encouraged summer programs, and to help the kids deal with all the changes, we spoiled them terribly. Young Caroline got signed up for Horse-riding Camp. Eight weeks of riding, which might be followed up with Advanced camp if she wanted. Billy was enrolled in football camp, having played since second grade. He was never going to a monster, size wasn't one of our families traits, but the boy was lightning fast. Young Roger got his way with swimming camp, the most onerous of all, and by far the longest lasting, covering the entire summer and costing an arm and a leg. Fortunately, we were able to find families to carpool with. Roger, we paid $25 a week to get picked up and dropped off, with a family that had three kids attending the swimming camp. I don't know how they could afford it. For Caroline and Billy, we shared the driving, with Dana having drop off duty twice a week, while I did the picking up an equal number of times.

It was obvious that Grandma did best when the kids were around. They kept her busy, and she somehow seemed to remember best in their presence. That was the worst part of the kids activities, with all three of them gone most mornings until early afternoon. It was when the house was empty, and it was just me and her, that she would get lost sometimes.

It made me feel a little bad. Like I didn't matter as much, I guess. I know that's unreasonable, and I didn't blame her, but it's how I felt. I tried to spend some time with her, make sure she ate lunch, kept her company while she did the laundry. Helped her find things she'd misplaced. The cleaning crew came in twice a week, and worked around her. As soon as they left, she'd start cleaning behind them. I wasn't sure if having cleaners was a great idea, she seemed to take offense to it, especially during her weaker moments, when she seemed to think she was in her twenties, and they were doing her job.

My contracting job provided work in bursts and lulls. I was hit with a couple of days of very light tasking, and found myself in Grandpa's workshop early one morning, looking at the unfinished chair he'd been working on. It hurt me to see it like that; Grandpa was one of those men who couldn't stand to see something half-done.

I hadn't been in his workshop for more than a couple of times total, since we'd lost him. It wasn't air conditioned, and in the summer it took some getting used to working out there. A big fan in the back and opening the garage door up front provided some ventilation and made it almost bearable. I looked around, remembering my months there under his guidance, working on Dana's and my marital bed. I wandered the large space, recalling the time spent learning each of the major tools, thinking how sad it was that they were idle.

I turned on my heel, and walked briskly back to the bedroom, where I put on my woodworking duds. Grandpa had definite ideas of what should be worn in the shop. It was a uniform, carpenter pants, steel toed boots, long sleeve western shirt. Heading back to the shop, I checked on Grandma, who was still in bed, not uncommon. I closed her door quietly, and headed back out.

Just inside the door were the work-belts and painter caps that we wore. Beside those were the ear muffs we used when working with any of the power tools. I buckled a belt around my waist, and put on a cap, feeling good about doing something other than pecking away at my keyboard, or managing the work going on outside the building.

I examined the chair he'd been working on, dry-fitting all the pieces. I scraped off some old glue, and sanded where it had hardened. Grandpa's large bottle of carpenter's glue still sat where he'd left it. The glue had hardened at the opening, and it took me a minute or two to clear it out, and verify that the glue inside the bottle hadn't gone bad. I lined up my clamps and some cloths to make sure I didn't damage the wood, and started putting the chair back together.

I was about half done, when Grandma came into the shop. I was having a difficult time fitting a couple of pieces together, and clamping them in place, when I felt her hand on my shoulder.

"You've been working out here in the heat all day, Billy," she said.

"I couldn't stand to see this left half done," I explained.

Her girlish giggle was a surprise, though not nearly as large as when her hand caressed my rear. "Don't I know it. Once you get started, there ain't much I can do to convince you to take a break, is there?"

Only then did it hit me that she had called me Billy. I looked back at her, and she gave me a big smile. Then she leaned in and kissed me on the shoulder. "You finish up that chair, and I'll make us something for lunch. Unless there's something else you'd like to do?"

Her hand slid across my rear, and between my cleft from behind. I fumbled the pieces I was trying to hold in place, and she laughed. "I'm sorry. Don't be mad, Billy."

"I'm not mad, Dana," I said, turning slightly to break the contact with her mischievous hand. I recognized that she was having one of her episodes. She thought I was her husband, and she was back in her twenties. I didn't want to cause her any anguish, and played along.

"I could never be mad at you," I said, leaning back against the workbench as she moved in close, her arms reaching around me.

She looked up at me and smiled. She had a beautiful smile, still, and it warmed my heart to see her eyes light up. "When you finish up with the Conroy's chairs, come in and I'll fix you something to eat. You skipped breakfast again, didn't you?"

"Wasn't hungry," I said. "I had an apple."

Her arms moved upward, around my neck, as she pressed her body against mine. I felt awkward, and nervous. Grandma, on the other hand, seemed quite comfortable. She gave her hips a little wiggle, pressing up between my legs. I'm more than a little ashamed I responded to her overt come-on. Her smile grew wider, when she pulled my head down for a kiss.

It's weird. I know that, but you have to understand, I loved the woman. The way she'd taken me in so easily, accepted me as part of her family. The only family I'd ever had. There was nothing lustful in my feelings, but my heart broke for her. She'd lost the love of her life, the man she'd spent more than 50 years with. She was losing her mind, and for that brief moment, she was happy, reliving her past, her early days, and I was her Bill.

I kissed her. I put my arms around her and kissed her. Softly, nothing crazy, but I did, I kissed her. And the woman melted against me. She was still in her nightgown, her skinny body barely covered. I could feel her skin through the material, and ran my hands down her back. She hummed her happiness against my lips, and I almost jumped when her hand slid between us, rubbing my erection. Her eyes had been closed, and she opened them. She stared into my eyes, and I felt a warmth I couldn't deny.

Then she was pulling away. "I'll bring you a sandwich in a bit. I'm making your favorite roast tonight, so don't stay out here forever."

Her hand reached out and ran down my chest, before she turned away and walked back toward the house, with a teasing wiggle in her walk. She turned and looked back at me, grinning at the doorway. "Get back to work and stop staring at my butt," she teased, then left me, stunned.

It took me a while to get back to what I was doing, feeling weird, and oh-so-wrong. Thankfully, I was able to push the thoughts about Grandma's behavior out of my head and finish most of the chair, before the serenity of the shop was interrupted again.

Grandma was back, and I could see that she'd changed. She had on a bright yellow sundress, and her hair was tied back in a simple ponytail. She walked past the big fan at the end of the workshop, and her lightweight dress blew up, exposing her thighs. I'm pretty sure she did it on purpose. In one hand was a plate with a huge sandwich on it, as well as some chips. In the other was a tall glass of iced tea.

"Break time, Billy. You need to eat."

I stopped what I was doing, and capped the glue. She cleared a space for the plate, and emptied her hands before turning to me. She reached up and pulled off my hat, running her fingers through my hair. "I still don't understand why you insist on wearing these stupid hats," she said.

"It keeps the sawdust out of my hair, and keeps my hair out of the work," I explained, as Grandpa had once explained to me.

Her hands moved down, and she was unbuckling my toolbelt. I would have backed away if I could, nervous about where things were going. "You're so tense lately," she said, pulling the belt away and laying it on the bench beside me. "We'll be fine. Business is a little slow, but it always is this time of year."

"I'm almost out of things to do," I said, stuck for a reply.

"Then you need to go out and drum up some business. You're the best, and you need to remember that. Jeanie said the Destin's are adding onto their house. I bet you could get some cabinet work out of them." Then she slid her arm around my waist, and turned me toward the lunch she'd brought. "Eat. Finish the Conroy's stuff, and plan on making a run up to the Destin's. The wife's name is Leslie, and Michael is her husband. The oldest they call Mike, then there's Margaret, and John. Tell them Jeanie suggested you contact them."

"I'll do that. I should be done in here within the hour."

She gave me a squeeze, then a quick kiss on the shoulder. "Perfect. I'm making your roast tonight."

She gave me a pat on the bottom, the waltzed off again, with that teasing walk of hers. It was hard to believe that a woman in her seventies could walk that way without breaking a hip.

"Thanks, Dana. Love you," I said, picking up the sandwich.

See, that's the problem with having a wife named Dana. It was automatic. I didn't even think about it, the words just spilled forth.

She laughed, not even turning around. "We'll see. Get some work from the Destin's, Billy, and I'll let you show me just how much you love me later."

I was a little optimistic about the time it would take me to finish the chair. I was happy with the job I'd done, and cleaned up the work area. I looked around while I was at it, and under a couple of tarps, found some old cabinets that Grandpa must have been working on. I decided I'd found my next project.

After cleaning up, I had some concerns about going in the house, and Grandma acting all lovey-dovey, once the kids came home from their summer camps. I slipped out the back of the shop, and looked in to the kitchen from the sliding glass door. My daughter Caroline was in the kitchen with Grandma, and Billy was sitting at the table, eating his afternoon snack. Roger was always the last to arrive, and would be ravenous when he got home.

I went around the house, to check on the work that was being done on the addition. The foundation had been poured, and the framing was complete. They had started on the plumbing for the new master bath, and most of the exterior sheathing was in place. They were making great progress, and I spoke with the head honcho who assured me they were still on schedule, and would have the electrical and plumbing inspection in less than a week.

The door into the house was complete, and I entered from that end, heading to the bedroom and changing into jeans and t-shirt. I was hoping that the outfit was part of why Grandma had mistaken me for a young Grandpa.

I made my way to the kitchen, smelling her divine cooking. Whatever else you might say about her memory, that woman sure could cook. I took a deep breath, as I watched her interaction with my little girl. The boys were nowhere to be seen, and I was hoping that they were doing something useful, like their chores, but suspected they were out playing.

Grandma was almost dancing around the kitchen, humming happily, when she wasn't giving Caroline directions. She looked up at me, and gave me a smile. "Logan, could you run up to the store and get me a dozen Granny Smith apples, or McIntosh if they have them? That and I'm out of nutmeg. I think I'll make an apple pie for dessert."