Johanna was indeed tired. From the moment Aunt Lynn had contacted her three days ago, she had been moving as if in a dream, with no sleep and very little food. After the initial shock of the news passed, she launched into a whirlwind of activity preparing to make the flight to South Carolina from her home in D.C. Instinctively, she knew she would be expected to wind up Granny’s estate, so she had cleared her calendar of court dates and appointments for the next four weeks, made airline reservations, packed for the trip, arranged for a house sitter, and boarded her dog Cecil at the kennel one of her associates recommended. It wasn’t until she was already on the plane that she remembered to call Mrs. Wiley, her pastor’s wife, who quickly agreed to cover the Bible study series she taught on Wednesday nights. Although she had taken a short nap on the flight, she really hadn’t had more than fifteen-minute snatches of sleep in almost three days.

Sighing deeply, she turned, and closed the door before slowly beginning the ritual of opening the drapes and windows. She started in the front parlor, to the left of the entry hall. The layout of the house mirrored the layout of most other plantation homes in the area. The main hallway ran the center of the house, past the main staircase and to the back of the house. There were several rooms off either side of the main hall. When she opened the drapes, sunlight flooded the room and after lifting the window a crack, she repeated the ministration at the other windows. In the kitchen, she quickly checked the food supply and was satisfied that there were ample provisions to prepare a light meal before her sisters arrived.

Maybe I can take a quick nap before they get here, she thought as she exited the kitchen.

Completing the circle, she crossed the main hall and entered the library. The library was her favorite room in the house. It was here that she and her sisters sat at Granny’s knee on rainy afternoons while Granny read stories from the books lining the walls or recited passages of scripture from the old family Bible. Johanna walked over to the bookcase and lightly traced her fingers over the thin film of dust coating the spines.

“Johanna Louise Brighton! Put that book down, get in that kitchen, and help your sisters with the dishes,” Granny called.

Johanna tore her eyes away from her book just as Granny’s face appeared in the doorway. When she saw Granny’s expression, she steeled herself for a sound tongue-lashing.

“I declare, girl! The house could burn down around your ears and you’d still have your nose stuck in that book. Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

Johanna shook her head sheepishly before she noticed the glimmer of amusement in Granny’s eyes. Granny crossed the room, the damp from the hot summer day shining on her wide, smooth forehead. Before she reached Johanna, her round face broke into a reluctant smile.

“Just like your momma,” she said, tugging at one of Johanna’s long braids. “If ever she was missing, I knew I could find her in here with her nose stuck in some book. She had a love for the written word too, you know. Watcha’ reading this time, girl?”

Johanna was tugged from the memory when she heard her name. Glancing out the front window, she expected to see Aunt Lynn’s car, but the only car visible was the rental she’d driven. Well, they didn’t very well walk, she thought, turning to make her way to the foyer.

“Joha-a-a-anna.” She heard her name again and froze.

“Johanna!” the voice came again, more forceful this time.

“Who’s there?” she asked, her voice wavering uncertainly.

The house was eerily silent. She felt a trickle of sweat trial down her back as she stood waiting for a reply. But all remained quiet, the only sound the quiet ticking of the hall clock. Johanna laughed aloud nervously, anxious to break the nerve-wracking silence.

“Now you’re hearing and seeing things,” she muttered. It’s simply fatigue. That’s all, she reassured herself. I’ll feel better once I’ve had a chance to rest. Not quite convinced, she practically ran to the rental car to retrieve her bags.

Struggling to remain upright under the wait of the baggage, Johanna dragged her luggage upstairs to her room. When she finally reached the second floor landing, her eyes were immediately drawn to the room at the end of the hall — Granny’s room. Dropping her bags, she slowly walked toward the open doorway. Tears clouded her eyes as she stepped into the room. The room looked as it always did, everything in its place. When her eyes finally rested on the bed, she almost expected to see Granny’s form huddled under the covers for a mid-morning nap.

She crossed to the bed and caressed the homemade quilt and remembered the day, after many months of labor, that Granny finally finished it. It was the day before the last Thanksgiving the family spent together. That Thanksgiving, the first break of her first year in law school, she had come home to spend the holiday with the family. With a pain dulled by the passage of many years, she remembered Momma and Daddy died in an automobile accident only a few weeks later. “The roads were icy and your Daddy just couldn’t regain control of the car once it slid on that patch of black ice,” Granny had explained. “The car spun out and crashed into a tree. But the Doc said they didn’t suffer. We can thank the good Lord for that. They both died on impact.”

It was difficult to get the family together for the holidays after that. It was just too painful for her sisters with the death of their parents so closely following a time formerly filled with rejoicing. Only Johanna continued to come year after year to celebrate the holidays with Granny. Occasionally she was able to coax one of her sisters to come along, but never all three for the same holiday.

Johanna lay across the bed reveling in the feel of the soft quilt against her cheek. She rolled to her side and her eyes rested on the photographs on the bedside table. There was one of her mother and father on their wedding day, and right beside it, a picture of Granny and Grand-da standing in front of the homestead the day the sale was closed. She smiled at the looks of utter happiness on their faces as they leaned against the “sold” sign proudly posing for the picture. Grand-da died of cancer a mere five years later and Granny, obstinately maintaining, “The good Lord intended for a woman to be joined to only one man…for life,” had remained a widow since his death.

She returned the picture to its place and began talking to the Lord. “Heavenly Father, our family has experienced so many losses. But even through the times of loss, you blessed us richly. You gave my sisters and me parents who loved us and, more importantly, loved you.

They raised us in the knowledge of you, and for that I am truly grateful. You blessed us even further with God-fearing grandparents who loved us deeply and left a legacy of love that will transcend all time. Thank you, Lord.” She continued her silent prayer of thanksgiving as she slowly drifted into the embrace of sleep, lying on the quilt her grandmother stitched together with love.

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