Chapter 8
The Frog on the Rock
“Grandma, I don’t see it in the terrarium or on the windowsill. Where is it?” Piper asked as she glanced around her grandma’s kitchen.
“Keep looking.”
The kitchen was the center of her home, which she had lived in for as long as Piper knew her. The knotty pine cabinets and countertops in the kitchen were also the same cabinets and countertops in her first memories of the house. Her grandma wasn’t about to update anything; updating was a “waste of money and time.” And she was very good with her money. She lived frugally, sewing her own clothing, trimming the bushes that lined the back of her home, painting both the inside and outside of her home occasionally, and doing other odds and ends around the house to save money. Piper recalled many times in which she arrived at her grandma’s house to find her standing on a step ladder trimming the bushes.
“Can I help?” Piper would ask, usually receiving a “no” or an “I’m almost done” for answers.
“My dad or Uncle Edward could do that for you if I’m not around.”
“Your dad said he’s on his way, but I don’t have time to wait. These bushes need to be trimmed.”
By the time Piper’s dad showed up, which was often within an hour of the time she had alerted him that she planned to trim the bushes, the bushes were trimmed and tidy. His response was always a mixture of disappointment and amusement. On one hand, he was disappointed in the way his elderly mother wouldn’t wait for him to do the work she needed to have done for her. On the other hand, he was amused by her take-charge sort of an attitude, given her advanced years. He loved her very much and appreciated the way she served as the perfect role model for him and his brother, inspiring their strong work ethic.
Piper recalled another time in which she arrived at her house to find the pint-sized woman in one of her usual frilly dresses (Grandma never wore anything but dresses) outside with a paint roller in hand, rolling a new coat of olive-colored paint on the outside of her house. Such endeavors weren’t common for a woman of her age, which at that time was eighty-six years old. But then again, Grandma was no common woman.
Because she was so frugal, she never lacked for money and was able to travel to Germany whenever she wanted to see her relatives. They owned a small hotel and a big house in Steinwenden, so she had a nice place to stay while there. The company of her relatives was something she cherished. She also cherished the quaint country life of southwestern Germany.
Her house featured an abundance of souvenirs and knickknacks from the old world, including a wall of cuckoo clocks, a variety of crosses, colorful beer steins, decorated pewter shot glasses, a wooden carving of the Last Supper, and a kuche hexan. Her kuche hexan, or kitchen witch, hailed from the Harz Mountains in Germany. She hung it in her kitchen following an old tradition that claimed that by doing so, the cook would receive good luck.
Piper admired her grandmother for many reasons, not the least of which were her independence, determination and inner strength. Those qualities served as inspirations to Piper, who never failed to carry the small golden cross her grandmother gave her. The cross served as a reminder of both Jesus’ love and her grandma’s. She also saved the rosary her grandmother had given her. It bore the inscription, “Mrs. Edward R. McCoy.” Her grandma’s other love, Piper’s grandpa, had passed a decade earlier.
When Piper saw Grandpa McCoy in his home, he was often seated in his old reclining chair. His legs and cheeks were often flushed in a reddish-purple hue, though Piper didn’t know what caused those maladies. She liked to reminisce about the times when she was very little, sitting on his lap while he read her a book. Those times she appreciated. Memories of a kind man who battled his own demons permeated her mind. Had he not been such a drinker, he probably would have worked much harder and become a wealthy man, as his son Edward had become.
Uncle Edward liked to joke about his heritage. He always said, “God invented alcohol so the Irish wouldn’t rule the world.” That little phrase cracked Piper up and she always wondered whether the phrase bore any truth. “Stay clear of the sauce and you’ll find success,” her dad would say. He also told Piper that alcoholism skipped a generation, so being a drinker was in her genes. That worried Piper when she was young, but it didn’t keep her from trying alcohol a couple of times in college. She was curious and a little rebellious in her college years. Fortunately for her, she didn’t like the way drinking made her feel.
“I found it!” Piper announced as she held up the frog on the rock. The frog was a little green glass and ceramic frog, which Piper had glued onto a smooth oval rock when she was in nursery school. She had proudly displayed it to her grandma when she was four, who told her that she would keep it safe for her, figuring if Piper kept the frog on the rock, she would lose it at that young age. Every time she visited her grandma, she would look for the frog on the rock. Sometimes it was in the terrarium, which was a glassed in planter that her grandma had designed. Other times it was in a windowsill or on a shelf. This time it was on a table in the living room right next to the not so secret jar of M&M candies.
“I helped myself to some candy, Grandma.”
“Of course you did. That’s why I always keep the jar filled. Let’s sit down next to the candy. I’m feeling a little hungry.”
Grandma McCoy had a penchant for chocolate and always stocked her house well with all sorts of chocolates, from M&M candies to Hershey bars to fancy German chocolates. Piper loved visiting her, even though she didn’t eat chocolate very often herself. Something about her grandma and her grandma’s house delighted her.
Piper eyed up the organ sitting on the opposite side of the room against a wall, just under a wooden carving of Jesus’ Last Supper. The organ was much better than the piano she had at home as its keys lit up with all of the letters of the musical notes, so it required less time to learn and play. Before leaving, she promised herself she would play a few songs. The song sheet for “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling” was propped up over the keys, which were calling her name. Grandma loved the Irish songs, because they reminded her of Grandpa.
“So how’s Nick?” Grandma asked as they both sat down on comfortable, cushioned chairs in the living room.
“Oh, he’s wonderful Grandma. Just perfect. I’m very lucky to have found him. He treats me very well.”
“So, when’s the wedding? It’s been quite a while since you started dating and you’re not getting any younger. For that matter, neither am I. It would be nice if you held the wedding before I meet my maker. It won’t be long before that happens. I’ve been telling Jesus that I’m ready for a while now.” Grandma McCoy was never one to beat around the bush and oftentimes her direct approaches were considered either rude or pushy. Piper knew better. Grandma McCoy didn’t have time for nonsense or chitchat, so she liked to get to the point right away.
“I don’t know when we’ll get married yet, but Nick says he loves me.”
“That’s nice, but it’s time to move forward. I like him, Piper, but if he doesn’t ask you in the next couple of months, you will need to move on.”
Piper gulped. That was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Bring him by sometime soon. I’d like to talk to him about this matter.”
“I’ll do that Grandma. Soon.”
Piper wondered how much longer her grandma had to live. At eighty-eight, one never knows. Her body didn’t appear particularly frail, though, and she was still able to do all sorts of physical tasks. Plus, her mind was just as sharp as it had ever been. Yet despite all of this, Piper had an eerie feeling she didn’t have too much time left. She could see the little hunch in her back was becoming more prominent, and that her stride was becoming more deliberate, and that she had lost a lot of weight. She decided to bring Nick to her grandma’s house in the next couple of weeks.