be lying on a couch.”
“No, no, no!” Meg cried out and ran over to her. “Gram, don't die. Please, please, don't die and leave me.”
Our grandmother opened her arms and embraced Meg, holding her close.
“My little dancer, it will be ok. Dry your tears. You need to be strong now.”
Gram winced in pain as she struggled to stand. I knew what she was
experiencing – the waves of cold electricity were still rolling through her body.
Still, she pushed past the pain and hobbled, with my assistance, towards the
kitchen.
“Put the kettle on, and let's have some tea,” she said, sitting at the table.
I wasn't sure if she truly wanted the beverage or if she was too weak to go
on.
“It'll take the chill out of these old bones.”
I wiped away my tears. They wouldn’t help her and they, certainly, wouldn’t
help my siblings. Instead, I pulled down the container of Gram's special herbal
blend and biscuits.
“Miles and Meg, come join me.” Gram patted the tabletop.
I laid out the cups and set the teapot on the table in front of my grandmother.
Meg and Miles sat one on each side of her as she told them, “When I was a
little girl, my mother would make me a cup of her special tea.”
I filled our cups, inhaling the familiar orange zest of the brew. As she must
have known it would, it soothed me, easing away some of the darkness. Then, just as my grandmother had always done, I added a splash of milk to each drink.
Gram weakly placed a biscuit on the saucer. She picked up her teacake.
“Now, take your cookie like this and give it a long dunk. Don't wait too long, though, or it'll disappear.” Taking the soaked biscuit out of the tea, she popped it
into her mouth.
Laughing, Meg and Miles copied her.
“Elliott and Cole, come have a cup of tea with us.” Both men were standing
by the sink. They looked more frightened than the children. “Mara, you haven't
touched your drink, yet. You don't want it to get cold.” The look on her face beseeched me to be strong.
Dipping my biscuit in the tea, I let it soak before I popped it into my mouth.
“Delicious,” I said with a forced smile.
“Now, Miles, there is one thing you should know about Mara,” Gram said
earnestly. “She needs to be reminded not to be too serious. Can you promise to
remind her to have fun?”
Miles threw his arms around her neck. “I promise, Gram.”
“I knew I could count on you.” She hugged him tightly.
“I love you, Gram,” Miles whispered.
“And I love you, little one.” Our grandmother squeezed him, one last time, before letting go of him. She held him in front of her and brushed the hair out of
his eyes. She kissed his cheek and said with a crack in her voice, “Miles, my angel, I'm a bit tired now, and I think I should go lie down. I want you to know
that my love for you will never end. Can you remember that?”
My brother nodded, and his eyes brimmed with tears. Gently, he kissed her
