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Rowan
My grandmother isasleep when I arrive at the small three-bedroom house in the center of town. As I step inside, a nurse greets me. She introduces herself as Alice.
“I’ve been expecting you,” Alice says. Her cheeks are round and rosy when she smiles, and she leads me down the hallway to a tidy, compact bedroom. She sweeps an arm at the small room. “This is you.”
I smile, nodding in thanks. Gone is the luxury of the palace. There’s no four-posted bed and chrome-plated fixtures. No floor-to-ceiling windows and meadows of snow and ice.
I’m back to reality.
“My grandmother?” I ask.
Alice leads me down the hall. When I poke my head inside my grandmother’s room, my heart squeezes.
She looks older than I remembered. Deep wrinkles line her face, and her skin looks pale and clammy. I tiptoe inside and leave a soft kiss on her forehead before retreating back to my laptop. Back to my work, where life is simple. When I’m focused on my business, my emotions make sense.
I twistand turn all night before waking up at dawn and fixing myself a cup of coffee. When I poke my head in my grandmother’s room, I walk to her bedside and curl my fingers around her icy hand.
Grandma lets out a sigh, opening her eyes to smile at me. “Rowan,” she says. “You didn’t have to come here.”
“Of course I did.”
“How is everything at the palace? Did Vikki help you get settled in?”
“It was perfect, Grandma.” I smile, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I got all the information I needed. But how are you?”
I try to keep the concern from my face, but my grandmother lets out a soft chuckle.
“I look that bad, do I?” She squeezes my hand, and I’m relieved at the strength in her grip. “You’re just like your mother. Worrywart. Always wanting to carry the world on your shoulders.”
“I’d hardly say that,” I reply.
Grandma snorts. “No? When that bastard left the two of you out in the cold, your mother straightened her shoulders and stayed in Farcliff for a better life, even when I told her to come to the Summer Palace with me. She was determined to do it on her own. Said she could provide for you without having the memory of that man tainting her future.”
I frown. “I thought she stayed there because she wanted him to be with her.”
Grandma shifts in her bed, sitting up with a grimace. “Hardly,” she says, fire shooting from her gaze. “He left your mother high and dry as soon as she told him about you. She got a better job in Farcliff than we could offer her at the palace, so she took the hard road of doing it on her own. She was a fighter, Rowan.” My grandmother stares at me, clear blue eyes sparkling. She shakes her head, lifting a crooked finger to stroke my cheek. “And you’re just the same. You think you have to do everything on your own.”
“I don’t,” I say weakly.
“No? You just built your architecture business by yourself for fun?”
“I wanted…” I trail off. What have I been doing? What do I want? I’m not even sure anymore. Three months ago, I would have said all I want is to run a successful business. I want to be independent and have the security of a large nest egg. I want to be able to live a good life without worrying about food or electricity bills like my mother did.
But…for what? Who am I providing for? Myself?
As I sit beside my grandmother, realizing just how frail she’s become, the world seems to tilt on its axis. I’ve spent the better part of a decade burying myself in work and ignoring the family I still have. I’ve prioritized work and business over relationships every time I had to make a choice.
But what if Grandma had a worse accident than a broken hip? What if she wasn’t as fit and active as she is, and her fall had more severe consequences? What if I lost her, too, without ever expecting it? Then I’d truly be alone, and being alone doesn’t feel quite the same as being independent.
“Mom worked hard, but she wasn’t able to get ahead because she had me,” I say, my voice choking on my words. “I’m different. I don’t have a baby dragging me down.”
“Oh, hush,” Grandma says, swatting my leg. “Dragging her down? Is that what you think you did?”
“She could have had a better life if she hadn’t had me. She had to feed and clothe me and make sure I got a good education. She never even dated anyone after my father, and I’m pretty sure it was because she didn’t want to bring a man into my life.” My throat tightens. I stare at the floor, willing myself not to cry. “Then she died, Grandma. She gave me everything, and then it was over. If she’d been on her own, maybe…”
“Look at me, Rowan.” My grandmother’s voice is stern.
I close my eyes for a moment, then drag my gaze to meet hers.
