Only the wall shared with the small bedroom was anordinary flat one. She hadn’t noticed any of these details last night. She and Gran had arrived late after the long drive from Minneapolis.
Liz stepped outside. She moved out into the yard, then she turned back to look at the house. The oldest parts of the house looked like they had once been a log cabin. Someone had built onto the cabin, both out and up. They had built in a rather helter-skelter fashion, too. The house seemed to stick out in every direction at once.
“It’s a hodgepodge, isn’t it?”
Liz jumped. It was Gran, speaking Liz’s very thoughts. She had stepped out of theforest. In her hands she carried a bouquet of wildflowers. “My great-grandfather built the log cabin,” Gran added. She joined Liz in the yard. “Then my grandfather added onto it. Every time a new child was born, he built another bedroom. So the whole house just grew like Topsy.”
“The kitchen and my bedroom used to be the log cabin. Right?” Liz asked.
“Right.” Gran studied the house, too. “Back then it was all one room. The wall between your bedroom and the kitchen was added later.”
The wall the blue woman had walked through!
Liz gave herself a shake. She was beginning to believe her own dreams.
“I was born and grew up in this house,” Gran went on. “So were my mother andher mother before her. All of us named Elizabeth. Like you, Liz. And like your mom.”
Liz nodded. She knew all that. She was Liz. Her mother was Beth. Gran was Betty. All of them were nicknames of Elizabeth. “So what were the Elizabeths before us called?” she asked.
Gran shrugged. “Just Elizabeth, I think. I know my mother was never called anything else.” As she spoke, her gaze was caught by the house. She looked sad.
“Why are you selling the house, Gran?” Liz asked softly. She reached to take her grandmother’s hand.
At first Liz thought Gran wasn’t going to answer. She just went on looking and looking at the house. At last she said, “I love this old place. I always have. But it’s too far to drive all the way up here from Minneapolis. Your mom worries about me when I stay here by myself. So …” She straightened her back and squeezed Liz’s hand.
“So,” she said again, “it’s time. That’s why I brought you with me … to help me pack away my past. And to be my guardian angel so your mom won’t worry.”
“I will be your guardian angel,” Liz promised. She threw her arms around hergrandmother and gave her a hard hug. “Always.”
Gran hugged her back. “I wanted you to see the house, too,” she said. “So you’ll remember. I guess for me it’s … it’s …” Her voice trailed off.
Liz stepped back to study her grandmother’s face. “What is it for you?” she asked. She really wanted to know.
Gran smiled down at Liz. “For me, dear Liz, this house is about connections. Connections with all the people who came before us. My grandmother used to tell me stories about them. It’s like they are still here. Can you feel it, too?”
Liz thought about being called awake with the name “Elizabeth.” She thought about the blue light and the woman who had passed through the wall next to her bed. And despite the warm sunlight, ice water trickled down her spine.
“Yes,” she said to her grandmother. “I can feel it.”
Gran and Liz spent the morning washing the cupboards and sorting their contents. Most of the dishes and pots and pans would stay behind to be sold with the house. Gran chose a few things to take home with her. Liz found a salt and pepper shaker set shaped like a chicken and a rooster that Gran said she could have. She tucked them away in the pocket of her suitcase.
Gran had always been a hard worker. She did everything around her house in the city Last summer she had even climbed up on her roof to fix some shingles. (Mom had been really mad about that.) But after lunch, she looked tired.
“It’s been a long morning,” she
Liz stepped outside. She moved out into the yard, then she turned back to look at the house. The oldest parts of the house looked like they had once been a log cabin. Someone had built onto the cabin, both out and up. They had built in a rather helter-skelter fashion, too. The house seemed to stick out in every direction at once.
“It’s a hodgepodge, isn’t it?”
Liz jumped. It was Gran, speaking Liz’s very thoughts. She had stepped out of theforest. In her hands she carried a bouquet of wildflowers. “My great-grandfather built the log cabin,” Gran added. She joined Liz in the yard. “Then my grandfather added onto it. Every time a new child was born, he built another bedroom. So the whole house just grew like Topsy.”
“The kitchen and my bedroom used to be the log cabin. Right?” Liz asked.
“Right.” Gran studied the house, too. “Back then it was all one room. The wall between your bedroom and the kitchen was added later.”
The wall the blue woman had walked through!
Liz gave herself a shake. She was beginning to believe her own dreams.
“I was born and grew up in this house,” Gran went on. “So were my mother andher mother before her. All of us named Elizabeth. Like you, Liz. And like your mom.”
Liz nodded. She knew all that. She was Liz. Her mother was Beth. Gran was Betty. All of them were nicknames of Elizabeth. “So what were the Elizabeths before us called?” she asked.
Gran shrugged. “Just Elizabeth, I think. I know my mother was never called anything else.” As she spoke, her gaze was caught by the house. She looked sad.
“Why are you selling the house, Gran?” Liz asked softly. She reached to take her grandmother’s hand.
At first Liz thought Gran wasn’t going to answer. She just went on looking and looking at the house. At last she said, “I love this old place. I always have. But it’s too far to drive all the way up here from Minneapolis. Your mom worries about me when I stay here by myself. So …” She straightened her back and squeezed Liz’s hand.
“So,” she said again, “it’s time. That’s why I brought you with me … to help me pack away my past. And to be my guardian angel so your mom won’t worry.”
“I will be your guardian angel,” Liz promised. She threw her arms around hergrandmother and gave her a hard hug. “Always.”
Gran hugged her back. “I wanted you to see the house, too,” she said. “So you’ll remember. I guess for me it’s … it’s …” Her voice trailed off.
Liz stepped back to study her grandmother’s face. “What is it for you?” she asked. She really wanted to know.
Gran smiled down at Liz. “For me, dear Liz, this house is about connections. Connections with all the people who came before us. My grandmother used to tell me stories about them. It’s like they are still here. Can you feel it, too?”
Liz thought about being called awake with the name “Elizabeth.” She thought about the blue light and the woman who had passed through the wall next to her bed. And despite the warm sunlight, ice water trickled down her spine.
“Yes,” she said to her grandmother. “I can feel it.”
Gran and Liz spent the morning washing the cupboards and sorting their contents. Most of the dishes and pots and pans would stay behind to be sold with the house. Gran chose a few things to take home with her. Liz found a salt and pepper shaker set shaped like a chicken and a rooster that Gran said she could have. She tucked them away in the pocket of her suitcase.
Gran had always been a hard worker. She did everything around her house in the city Last summer she had even climbed up on her roof to fix some shingles. (Mom had been really mad about that.) But after lunch, she looked tired.
“It’s been a long morning,” she
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