Unbeweaveable by Katrina Spencer

Author:Katrina Spencer
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-58571-619-7
Publisher: Genesis Press, Inc.
Published: 2012-10-06T16:00:00+00:00

William Knight

I think losing my job can give me a second chance. At loving Renee more and forgiving my mother for the small things that she’s done to me in the past. So what if she didn’t take me shopping with her, or trips to the spa? Who was the one who sat with me and helped me paint all those Styrofoam balls to resemble planets? Beverly. Who helped me study all those words so I could win District XI spelling bee? Beverly. And who was the one who paid for the tutor so my SATs were a breeze for me? Beverly. Beverly ensured that I would have the best education possible. Yes, she was upset that I didn’t accept going to Yale, but she got over it and never made me feel bad about it. I could do better by her.

I closed my journal and slipped it under a dish towel when I saw Renee walk into the kitchen.

“Good morning.”

“Morning,” she said. “You’re dressed and ready? Wow.”

“I know. I didn’t want another day of someone knocking on my bedroom door.”

“You excited about seeing Grandpa?”

“I am.”

“You’re not fooling anybody, you know. I saw you writing. Why would you try to hide it?”

I pulled my journal from underneath the blue dish towel. “I don’t know. I feel sort of silly still writing in a journal.”

“That was your thing when we were growing up. That and reading, of course. You couldn’t keep your nose out of a book back then.”

I nodded and drank a sip of my coffee.

“I’m starting to know why you didn’t call me, but why didn’t you ever check up on Grandpa? He really missed you.”

I sighed. The whole time I’d been in Houston, all I’d learned was how messed up I was. How I’m such a bad person. It’s bad enough being a bad sister, but I didn’t need any more reminders of why I was a bad granddaughter, too.

“I know I’ve messed up with you guys. I should have been there. I had my priorities all mixed up—”

“You didn’t even have us as a priority.”

“I’m sorry. I’m really trying here, Renee. Cut me some slack.”

She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it. “I’m going to get ready. I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.”

When she left I opened my journal and wrote:

How many times can a person say they’re sorry for it to be true? A hundred times? A thousand? Is that the lesson that I’m learning? To learn to apologize? Well, I’ve learned it. I’m sick of doing it. I never claimed to be perfect. I know I let a lot of people down. Problem is, I never knew they were depending on me in the first place.

* * *

Oak Forest Nursing Home was in the Woodlands, a suburban city on the outskirts of Houston. It looked like a Spanish estate with its stucco walls and its red Spanish tiled roof and expansive rolling grounds. We walked into the two-story foyer, and

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