Grandma and I are heading toward the doctor’s office, and I’ve taken Brown Street instead of Arminta. When I was in high school I loved driving this street to work at the nursing home every day. It’s curvy and requires attention to cars coming from the other direction, but I loved the challenge of maneuvering it patiently. And—full disclosure—it leads to the spot where my first love and I used to go parking: indeed, this road is full of thrills. I respond to Grandma treading lightly and with patience. “You have to remember, Grandma, I haven’t lived around here for ten years. I don’t know these streets like I used to. This will take us to the same place, right?” “I suppose,” she pauses, then adds this: “Grandpa used to take this way just to spite me.” With her tone I’m beginning to think it’s no wonder! Not every woman her age has a grown granddaughter who can drop her responsibilities for a whole afternoon to accompany her grandma to the doctor’s, who cares what route she takes!
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