A grandmother suddenly has to take care of her three grandchildren.

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Agatha's daughter showed up one fine summer day at her mother's house in Ashleyville, Ohio. Catherine had not been the model daughter Agatha wanted, but she was her only daughter. Agatha, now seventy and a widow, had not seen Catherine or her grandchildren for months. When the doorbell rang, Agatha peered out of the window in the front door and saw her daughter and her three grandchildren, Emily, Arthur, and Craig.

She opened the door. "Well, hello! I haven't seen you since your father passed away."

Catherine avoided the subject of her father. "Mom, I need you to take care of the kids."

"For how long?"

"I don't know. I'm going away."

Agatha saw a car parked by the curb. A man was sitting in the driver's seat.

"Who's that?" she asked as she peered over her daughter's shoulder.

"That's Larry."

"And who might Larry be?"

"Just a friend."

Agatha snorted. Then she looked at her grandchildren. They looked scared as they stood there on her front porch, surrounded by suitcases.

"Come in. I'll be happy to take care of the kids."

"Thanks. Gotta go. Bye!" Catherine was off down the steps and into the car. They sped off immediately, as if afraid the children would come running back to the car.

"Come in, children. Let's see if together we can lug those suitcases inside," and together they did.

"I think the boys can have your Uncle Kenneth's bedroom. Good thing he's living thirty miles away and has his own place. And you, Emily, you can be in your mom's old room."

It took the rest of the morning to get everything organized and then Agatha announced, "Time for lunch. Say, let's go out for lunch. I haven't been to a restaurant for a long time. It'll be fun. We'll go to Ambrosio's. They have great pizza."

The children were silent as they piled into the car. Agatha was worried. What could she say to them to make things better?

They sat down in the restaurant and ordered one large pizza with just about everything on it, and between bites, Agatha started what she hoped would not be an awkward conversation.

"Well, children, tell me how you feel. Are you OK with staying with me for a while?"

Emily at ten was the oldest. She decided it was her job to say something.

"Grandma, I think it will be good to stay with you, if you won't throw us out."

"Why would I do that, Emily?"

"It's hard to take care of three brats. That's what Mom says."

Agatha wondered how she had managed to raise such an impossible daughter.

"I think it will be fun to take care of all three of you, and you're not brats--or are you?" She laughed.

"No, Grandma, we always tried to please Mom, but it didn't work. We miss Dad."

"Of course you do. May he rest in peace."

They were all silent for a moment.

"Here, have some more pizza," Agatha said, and Emily, Arthur, and Craig quickly reached out to the plate in the center of the table. "You kids must have been hungry."

"We didn't have breakfast," little Craig said. "I'm four."

"Oh, I am so sorry that you didn't have breakfast."

Arthur, the seven-year-old, was next. "Mom was in a hurry to go on a trip with that guy."

Agatha's mind was in a turmoil. Where had she and Mike gone wrong in raising Catherine? Was it the surrounding culture? But Ashleyville, Ohio was a decent place to raise kids. Had her daughter gone wrong in college? No, it was after her husband died in a car accident that Catherine seemed to go off the deep end. Agatha looked at her grandchildren, and saw that they were staring at her.

"Is something wrong, Grandma?"

She was about to tell the children what a bad mother they had and then bit her tongue. "No, something is very right. I have been given a triple gift, a gift of the three of you. It's summer, and I promise you that we will have a good time. We can go swimming, and you can make friends at day camp, and we'll take some little trips to see interesting things."

Arthur spoke up. "How long will we stay with you, Grandma?"

"As long as you want. Forever, or even longer, if you like."

The two older children laughed. Little Craig played with his slice of pizza and wondered how long would be longer than forever.

By Anita G. Gorman

From: United States

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