grandmother gasped behind her. Turning around, she noted Leo staring at the stones. “What’s the matter?”
Leo shook her head mutely.
“What? You’re worrying me. What’s the matter?” Brenawyn ran to her side but Leo brushed her off and stumbled toward the counter.
“These stones. Why did you pick these stones? And why did you arrange them in this way?”
“Nana, calm down. You’re scaring me. You told me to pick any stones that I wanted, right? These just felt right. The amethyst, I think would be obvious, it’s my birthstone. The tiger’s eye—I remember Grandpa having a tie tack with a tiger’s eye stone. Do you remember?”
“Yes, I do.” Leo said hesitantly.
“Wasn’t he buried with it?
“Yes, he was.”
“All right then, the blue tourmaline and obsidian—I liked the colors, they are soothing. The blue is calming, and the black is so deep, I just find myself wanting to touch it, to stroke its smoothness. And then last, bloodstone. I guess it’s my way of tipping a hat to the pagan in this endeavor.” Brenawyn finished. “So now, do you want to tell me what this is all about?” Brenawyn asked as she abandoned the stones on the counter and pulled Leo away.
Leo looked back and shook her head slowly with the echo of fear in her eyes.
“All right, this is not funny. Tell me.”
“It’s nothing,” Leo replied unconvincingly. “It’s probably nothing,” she grabbed Brenawyn’s chin and gently forced it down so she could look into her eyes. “Maggie, can you mind the store,” she called.
Maggie responded, “Sure thing, Leo. B, do you want me to wrap these up and put them with the other things to go down to the park while you’re—
“No leave them there,” Leo interrupted, splaying her hand on the center tiger’s eye. Leave them exactly how they are right now.”
“Ok. You’re the boss,” Maggie meekly replied. Confused at the sudden mood change, she looked at Brenawyn to get a hint at the cause, but seeing no answer registered in her face, she turned to resume her inventory.
“We will be upstairs awhile. Do not disturb us.”
Upstairs, Leo told Brenawyn to sit at the kitchen table and wait while she haltingly went into her bedroom and pulled a brown storage box from under her bed. Fumbling with the plastic latch, she opened it to reveal her daughter, Margaret’s, belongings. She found the journal she sought and went to join Brenawyn in the pantry.
Brenawyn eyed the journal Leo put on the counter but didn’t say a word. Leo glanced at her granddaughter, knowing that she was expecting an explanation, and from the slight smile on her face probably thought Leo had finally lost her mind.
She took a fortifying breath and began, “The reason for my reaction to your choice is that I used those stones in that configuration, that exact configuration, many years ago—twenty-nine years to be exact.” stressing the last part of the declaration. Pausing for any sign of recognition but receiving none, she asked, “Had your mother told you anything about it?”
“Nana, what’s all of this about? I told you I chose the stones because I thought they were pretty. What does this have to do with something that happened before I was born? And why would my mother, of all people, tell me about it?”
“I didn’t think she did, but I had to make sure. Your mother wouldn’t have told you because your father ardently opposed her religion, and your mother loved him. So she abandoned the beliefs in which she was raised to be with him. Then she was pregnant and she found out how far she would go to protect the one she loved more than her husband, more than her life.” Touching Brenawyn’s cheek, “She made the right choice. I would have done the same, even though her actions ruined her marriage.”
Sitting up in apparent indignation, Brenawyn did what any good daughter would do, she rushed to the aid of her deceased father, a loving, albeit strict, man.
“Shhh. Wait, don’t
Leo shook her head mutely.
“What? You’re worrying me. What’s the matter?” Brenawyn ran to her side but Leo brushed her off and stumbled toward the counter.
“These stones. Why did you pick these stones? And why did you arrange them in this way?”
“Nana, calm down. You’re scaring me. You told me to pick any stones that I wanted, right? These just felt right. The amethyst, I think would be obvious, it’s my birthstone. The tiger’s eye—I remember Grandpa having a tie tack with a tiger’s eye stone. Do you remember?”
“Yes, I do.” Leo said hesitantly.
“Wasn’t he buried with it?
“Yes, he was.”
“All right then, the blue tourmaline and obsidian—I liked the colors, they are soothing. The blue is calming, and the black is so deep, I just find myself wanting to touch it, to stroke its smoothness. And then last, bloodstone. I guess it’s my way of tipping a hat to the pagan in this endeavor.” Brenawyn finished. “So now, do you want to tell me what this is all about?” Brenawyn asked as she abandoned the stones on the counter and pulled Leo away.
Leo looked back and shook her head slowly with the echo of fear in her eyes.
“All right, this is not funny. Tell me.”
“It’s nothing,” Leo replied unconvincingly. “It’s probably nothing,” she grabbed Brenawyn’s chin and gently forced it down so she could look into her eyes. “Maggie, can you mind the store,” she called.
Maggie responded, “Sure thing, Leo. B, do you want me to wrap these up and put them with the other things to go down to the park while you’re—
“No leave them there,” Leo interrupted, splaying her hand on the center tiger’s eye. Leave them exactly how they are right now.”
“Ok. You’re the boss,” Maggie meekly replied. Confused at the sudden mood change, she looked at Brenawyn to get a hint at the cause, but seeing no answer registered in her face, she turned to resume her inventory.
“We will be upstairs awhile. Do not disturb us.”
Upstairs, Leo told Brenawyn to sit at the kitchen table and wait while she haltingly went into her bedroom and pulled a brown storage box from under her bed. Fumbling with the plastic latch, she opened it to reveal her daughter, Margaret’s, belongings. She found the journal she sought and went to join Brenawyn in the pantry.
Brenawyn eyed the journal Leo put on the counter but didn’t say a word. Leo glanced at her granddaughter, knowing that she was expecting an explanation, and from the slight smile on her face probably thought Leo had finally lost her mind.
She took a fortifying breath and began, “The reason for my reaction to your choice is that I used those stones in that configuration, that exact configuration, many years ago—twenty-nine years to be exact.” stressing the last part of the declaration. Pausing for any sign of recognition but receiving none, she asked, “Had your mother told you anything about it?”
“Nana, what’s all of this about? I told you I chose the stones because I thought they were pretty. What does this have to do with something that happened before I was born? And why would my mother, of all people, tell me about it?”
“I didn’t think she did, but I had to make sure. Your mother wouldn’t have told you because your father ardently opposed her religion, and your mother loved him. So she abandoned the beliefs in which she was raised to be with him. Then she was pregnant and she found out how far she would go to protect the one she loved more than her husband, more than her life.” Touching Brenawyn’s cheek, “She made the right choice. I would have done the same, even though her actions ruined her marriage.”
Sitting up in apparent indignation, Brenawyn did what any good daughter would do, she rushed to the aid of her deceased father, a loving, albeit strict, man.
“Shhh. Wait, don’t
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