It was a beautiful June day: the sun was shining, a light breeze ruffled the leaves of the tall oak trees in the backyard where Pearl sat in her wheelchair in the shade. Butterflies flitted about the garden. She watched with delight as her four grandkids, two girls and two boys between the ages of 6-11, ran around the yard, alternating between the swing set, the trampoline, and the pop-up tent they were calling the “home fort.” Pearl’s daughter Olivia sat in a teak chair to Pearl’s right. A small table sat between them, and on it rested a mug of chamomile tea, Pearl’s favorite drink. Olivia was drinking something she called a “Mom-garita,” but Pearl was fairly certain it was just tequila over ice. Pearl felt her right leg twitch and spasm; that leg had never fully healed and was the reason she’d ended up in the wheelchair after that tumble she’d taken a few years back. Olivia looked over. “You okay, mom? Need me to get anything?” Pearl nodded and said, “Can you gather up all these children? I want to tell them the most fabulous story.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “Gonna tell them about your wild adventures? C’mon mom, nobody believes that stuff! You were a stay-at-home mom with three kids. You didn’t go around the world chasing danger.” Pearl nodded again. “No, you’re right; it’s just a fun story for the kids! Don’t you think they’ll get a kick out of it?” Olivia sighed and shouted, “Hey, children! Come over here, grandma Pearl wants to tell you more of her adventure stories.” Click here to read the rest of the story!
