The Intuitives(19)

Over time, Grandma Maggie had needed more and more help just getting by. Kaitlyn had started doing the dishes and the laundry, and cleaning the house, and eventually making their meals. The house, thankfully, was paid for, but there were still groceries and monthly bills, and after Grandma Maggie’s medicines, the checks from Social Security just couldn’t cover everything.

The job at the G&G had been a lifesaver—just enough to keep food on the table and the power on and the water running so she could keep showing up at school looking as though everything at home were perfectly fine, so nobody would call the Department of Health and Human Services to go check on them and end up taking Grandma Maggie away and putting Kaitlyn in foster care.

It was an exhausting life, but Kaitlyn didn’t mind. She liked fixing things, and she liked taking care of Grandma Maggie, who had always done her very best to take care of Kaitlyn. And she definitely liked living at home more than she would have liked living with strangers. Of that, she was completely and utterly certain.

Kaitlyn turned the key in the front lock carefully so as not to make too much noise. Grandma Maggie liked to nap in the evenings, and Kaitlyn didn’t want to startle her. She opened the door and tiptoed into the hallway, avoiding the places where the old floorboards creaked, and then popped her head into the sitting room on the left, where her grandmother was fast asleep in her favorite chair.

“Hi, Grandma Maggie,” she said softly. “It’s me. Kitten.” Only her family had ever called her that, a nickname her mother had given her when she was a baby.

Her grandmother slowly opened her eyes. “Oh, hi, Kitten,” she said, and her smile brightened the room. “How are you, sweetheart? How was your day?”

“I’m fine, Grandma,” she replied. “How about you. Are you doing OK?”

“Oh, you know me, darling. Couldn’t be better. Give me a patch of sunlight and a good book, and I’m as happy as a clam. At least the old eyes are still good enough for that!”

Kaitlyn smiled. “That’s good, Grandma. Have you had anything for dinner?”

“Oh, let me see now. I’m sure I must have had something… a sandwich maybe?”

“Yeah? Did you make yourself a sandwich? You think you could eat a little something more for me? You know you have to keep your strength up.”

“Oh, I’m fine, Kitten. Don’t you worry about me.”

“Let’s go into the kitchen together anyway, OK? Will you keep me company for a while? I could make us some tea?” It was really just an excuse to get her grandmother to walk the short distance down the hall. The doctor had said she needed to get more exercise to keep her limbs strong.

“Well, OK. I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea.”

Kaitlyn helped her grandmother up out of the chair, grimacing at how easy that task had become. It seemed to her that Grandma Maggie had lost far more weight than she could really afford to, and Kaitlyn was getting worried.

When they reached the kitchen, she eased her grandmother into a chair and rummaged through the fridge. The loaf of bread she had bought the day before was still unopened, but she didn’t mention it. Her grandmother had just forgotten to eat again, and embarrassing her over it wouldn’t change anything tomorrow. Instead, she set about making homemade macaroni and cheese, a staple Grandma Maggie would always take a few bites of—even when she claimed she wasn’t hungry.

While she worked, Kaitlyn mentioned the Model G mixer she had seen at work that afternoon and then listened happily as her grandmother regaled her with memories of her very first apartment with Kaitlyn’s grandfather, who had died not long after Kaitlyn was born, and of the Model G mixer he had bought for her way back when.

“He must have fixed that poor mixer I don’t know how many times,” Grandma Maggie said, laughing. “He had a gift for things like that. For fixing things. Just like you do.”

Kaitlyn was grinning and pouring the sauce over the noodles when there was a knock on the front door. Her first instinct was to panic, but she forced herself to take deep breaths and think. There was no reason for DHHS to come to the house this late in the evening, and even if they did, there was nothing wrong. The power was on. The water was running. She and her grandmother were in the kitchen eating a late supper. There was nothing to worry about.

“Grandma,” she asked, “are you expecting someone?”

“Now, Kitten, who would I be expecting? Maybe it’s a boy from school, come to call on you, hmm?”

Kaitlyn laughed at this. “I doubt it. Stay here, Grandma. Let me get the door.”

“Thank you, darling. These old bones are a bit tired this evening.”

The front door had a tall, narrow window next to it, through which Kaitlyn could see a dark-skinned woman with a very personable smile. She was dressed in a skirt suit, but it didn’t look like anything Kaitlyn had ever seen on a social worker. The soft, yellow cloth had been tailored to her specifically, its feminine cut lending her an air of gentle confidence—a kind of serenity Kaitlyn would not have thought possible in a business suit until she had seen it with her own eyes.

“Hello?” Kaitlyn said, opening the door.

“Good evening! I’m sorry to bother you so late, but are you Miss Kaitlyn Wright?”

“I am,” Kaitlyn confirmed.

“Wonderful!” The woman smiled even more broadly, her teeth flashing brightly against her skin. “My name is Christina Williams. I’m here from the Institute for the Cultivation of Intuitive Cognition—the ICIC, if you will—and I am very pleased to meet you!”