Restoring Harmony by Joelle Anthony Page A

depressed. She seems happier now that you’re here, and I’m determined to get her doing stuff again.”
    “Well . . . all right. If you say so.”
    I smiled to myself. I couldn’t help thinking he might just be getting Grandma in shape to make the trip back to Canada.
     
    It wasn’t quite the eleventh hour when we sat down to steaming bowls of vegetable stew, but it was close. Grandpa didn’t think we should eat the meat either, and he’d thrown it in the burn pile he had going on the other side of the creek.
    “Who taught you to cook?” he asked.
    “Mom.”
    “Breeee,” Grandma said.
    “Is the stew all right?” I asked.
    “It’s okay,” he said. And then he laughed. “It’s great. Thanks.”
    The spoon gave Grandma too much trouble because of the paralysis on one side of her mouth so she slurped hers directly from the bowl. She managed to get down two full servings, which said exactly what she thought of it, and my heart soared. I couldn’t take care of my own mother right now, but I could feed my grandmother to help get her strong and restore her health.
    We’d been outside all afternoon and evening, but I hadn’t heard Doug or the kids through the fence like I usually did. He had to be home from the market by now, didn’t he? I decided to take them some stew, and I made my way through the garden by moonlight. Doug’s electricity was turned off too.
    “Brandy? Michael?”
    “Molly?” answered a tiny voice.
    “Yeah, it’s me. Where are you guys?”
    By the time I got to the French doors, they were standing there peering out at me. “How come you don’t have a lantern? Where’s your uncle?”
    “He’s not back yet,” Brandy said.
    Michael stood silently by her side. He still hadn’t said a single word to me in the week I’d been here, no matter how I’d tried coaxing him. In fact, I hadn’t heard him talk to anyone and wondered if he could.
    “Come out here and have some stew,” I said. “I’ll get some bowls from inside.”
    The house was laid out almost exactly like Grandma and Grandpa’s, but the only furniture was a lumpy-looking couch and two cots where the kids obviously slept. I found some bowls, spoons, and a lantern in the kitchen and took it all back outside, where I dished up warm stew.
    “Have you eaten anything?” I asked.
    They shook their heads as they spooned the food into their mouths, chomping like starving animals.
    “Is your uncle usually gone this long?”
    Brandy shrugged. “Sometimes.”
    “When you’re finished, I think you should go to bed.”
    “I don’t want to,” Brandy whined.
    “If you crawl into your cots,” I said, “I’ll run home and get my fiddle and play you some tunes to help you sleep.”
    “Really? Okay!” she agreed.
    “Into bed, then.”
    For all her protests, Brandy was sound asleep when I got back with Jewels. I played a few quiet lullabies, but Michael lay there, wide-eyed, watching me. Some people can’t sleep when there’s music playing, so I quit after a while and settled onto the couch to wait.
    I must’ve fallen asleep because, when something crashed in the hallway, I woke up disoriented and confused. A second crash brought me to my feet. The lantern was still burning, but very faintly, and I looked around for something to defend myself with. Brandy turned over on her cot, but didn’t wake. Michael sat up, startled. I’d just picked up my fiddle case to use as a weapon when Doug stumbled into the room. I could smell the booze on him from where I stood.
    “Shhhhhh,” he said really loudly. “They’re sleeping.” And then he swayed forward and crumpled to the floor.

18
July 21st-Never refuse any advance of friendship, for if nine out of ten bring you nothing, one alone may repay you.
    -Madame de Tencin
     
     
     
     
     
    DOUG NEVER MENTIONED COMING HOME DRUNK, so I didn’t either. After a week, I’d found myself in a daily rhythm. I’d weed each morning, and sometimes he’d join me-other times he