Fingerprints
by Kathryn
Calvert
Grandma busily scurried
around the house, making sure everything was tidy. All the cushions were
perfectly plump on the sofa, a vase of fresh flowers was placed next to the
fireplace, and there was not a speck of dust to be found anywhere.
Just as she finished wiping
the glass coffee table in the living room, the doorbell rang. Grandpa shouted, “I’ll get it!” as
Grandma put her cleaning cloth away.
“Hi, Grandpa! Hi, Grandma!” yelled
six-year-old George and his little sister Sarah in unison as they raced into
the house, forgetting to take off their shoes.
“Hello, children!” replied
Grandma, frowning at the little bits of dirt the children had managed to track
down the hallway. “Can you take your shoes off, please?”
George and Sarah looked at
each other and gasped. They immediately turned around, walked back to the front
door, and took their shoes off, before racing into the living room.
Grandma opened her mouth to
call after them but was interrupted by Mom and Dad, who had finally stepped
into the house. “I brought some dessert for lunch. I hope you’ll like it,” said
Mom, carrying a foil-covered baking dish. “We would’ve walked here today, but I
didn’t want to drop it.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful! Thank
you!” said Grandma, taking the dessert.
“It’s very chocolaty and
gooey,” said Mom, “but the kids love it.”
Grandma laughed nervously and said, “I’m sure we have lots of napkins somewhere.”
“Now, now,” sighed Mom.
Dad and Grandpa chuckled in
unison.
****
Meanwhile, in the living
room, George and Sarah were having lots of fun. George was jumping on the sofa
and landing on his bottom, bouncing off the plump cushions.
Sarah was doing cartwheels
and thought she could do a one-handed cartwheel. “Watch me, George, watch me!”
she squealed.
George sat down on the
rumpled sofa to watch his sister.
Sarah stood in the doorway,
took a deep breath, and ran into the room with one arm raised up and the other
tucked behind her back. She leaped into the air and plunged down, her stretched
out arm making contact with the recently vacuumed carpet, and her legs flew up
into the air… and then BAM!!!
Sarah lost her balance and
crashed down onto the floor, knocking over the vase of fresh flowers. It was a
mess. Water spilled everywhere and the flowers looked frazzled. The carpeting
was soaked and there were a few crinkled petals plastered onto the soggy
surface.
George gulped.
Sarah turned bright red.
Footsteps came stomping down
the hallway. “What is going on here?” demanded Grandma with her hands on her
hips. She instantly noticed the rumpled sofa and then shrieked when she saw the
knocked over flowers.
She started to march towards
the mess when Sarah said, “It’s okay, Grandma. I’ll pick them up. I’m sorry.”
Sarah stood the vase up and
then crawled towards the coffee table. She planted her hands on the table and
pulled herself upright.
Grandma watched in horror as
her perfectly spotless glass coffee table became loaded with fingerprints. Lots
of tiny fingerprints. Everywhere.
She was about to scold Sarah
when Grandpa called out, “Lunch is ready!”
Sarah and George ran out of
the room past Grandma, who just looked around the trashed living room with
disgust.
****
Mom, Dad, and the kids loved
visiting Grandma and Grandpa on Sunday afternoons. Grandma always cooked the
best roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy, and Grandpa was always eager to
hear about their week.
This week was no different.
The table was set with Grandma’s cream tablecloth, the Sunday plates, and the
good silverware. The roast beef was delicious, and the family shared lots of
news and laughs.
When it was time for
dessert, Grandma brought out some extra napkins and set them on the table. She
groaned to herself as she served the gloopy chocolate fudge brownies to her
family.
“Here you go,” she said. “Be
sure to use your forks.”
George took one look at his
brownie and his hands dived right in. Sarah watched George and then did the
same thing. Within seconds, there was chocolate goo all over their faces, all
over their hands, and chocolate fingerprints all over Grandma’s cream
tablecloth.
Mom and Dad gulped.
Grandma’s face turned beet
red.
Grandpa rolled his eyes.
“Aaargh!” screamed Grandma.
“You kids are so messy! You don’t take care of anything! What did I just say
about using your forks?”
“Mom, it’s okay. Calm down.
It’s just a bit of chocolate. It will wash out. I’m sure of it,” said George
and Sarah’s mom.
“It’s not just the
brownies!” cried Grandma. “Every week you come here and mess up my house. The
kids rumple up my sofa, they get fingerprints all over my coffee table, and
they forget to take off their shoes!”
Grandpa reached out to
Grandma to calm her down. “It’s okay, dear. They are only children.”
Just then, Sarah got up from
her seat and cautiously whispered, “I’ve gotta go potty.”
She turned to exit the
dining room, and as she did, she put her hand on the wall by the doorway and
swung herself out of the room, leaving five gooey chocolate fingerprints
behind.
****
“Thanks for a wonderful
meal,” said Mom and Dad as they left Grandma and Grandpa’s house.
“Goodbye, Grandma. Goodbye, Grandpa,” said
George and Sarah, giving Grandpa a big hug. The children then turned to
Grandma, gave her a quick hug, and then raced outside to the car.
“See you next week!” Grandpa
called after them. Grandma nodded and waved as the family drove off.
“Ah, it is always so good to
see them,” sighed Grandpa as he shut the front door.
“Yes, yes it is,” muttered
Grandma as she grabbed a cleaning cloth and rushed to the living room.
Grandpa just shook his head.
****
Next week’s Sunday lunch
didn’t happen. Nor the week after that…or the week after that. No one could
believe how their lives had changed overnight.
The city was under a
stay-at-home order. There was a new virus going around and it was making a lot
of people sick. So people were asked to stay at home to stop the virus from
spreading. The only place where people could go was to the store to buy food
and any medicine that they needed. People could go out for walks as long as
they stayed away from others, but as it was March and it was still cold and
windy, few did.
Grandma and Grandpa stayed
safe in their house, while Mom, Dad, George, and Sarah remained safe in their
own house. Even though they couldn’t visit each other, the family did talk on
the phone and they even had a video chat online.
But it wasn’t the same. The
kids were missing Grandma and Grandpa. And at Grandma and Grandpa’s house,
Sundays seemed especially quiet without the noise and laughter of the children.
As the winter turned into
spring, Mom, Dad, Sarah, and George started to go for a family walk on Sundays
to pass the time. People were allowed to exercise, but they still had to stay
away from others.
So the family would take a
walk to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. The kids were sad that they couldn’t go
inside, but they still were excited to see them.
Grandma and Grandpa would
wait for them by the living room window, and when the family arrived, George
and Sarah would race to the window, plastering their faces to the glass along
with their hands as they peered inside.
Sometimes the kids would
hold up pictures they had drawn, or they would loudly sing a song for Grandpa
and Grandma. They would bring signs that read “I miss you” and “We love you,
Grandma and Grandpa!” Sarah would always decorate them with lots of hearts and
pretty flowers with butterflies.
Grandma and Grandpa would
smile and blow them kisses from their living room window and then watch sadly
as the family continued with their walk.
****
One afternoon, Grandpa was
sitting in his chair in the living room, while Grandma polished the furniture
and wiped the glass coffee table. Apart from the ticking of the grandfather
clock, the house was quiet and it felt rather empty.
Once she was done with her
cleaning, Grandma headed across the living room towards the kitchen. Grandpa
stopped her in her tracks when he suddenly said, “Didn’t you forget something?”
“What?” asked Grandma,
looking around the room, confused. The furniture gleamed, the coffee table was
spotless, the sofa was crisp and plump, and there weren’t any crumbs or dirt on
the carpet. “What do you mean?” she frowned at Grandpa.
Grandpa nodded at the front
window. “The window. You forgot the window. It is a mess, isn’t it?”
Grandma walked over to the
window and looked at it. Indeed, it was a mess. There were fingerprints all
over it. Tiny Sarah fingerprints were splattered all along the bottom of the
window. Plumper fingerprints that belonged to George were scattered all over
above hers.
Grandma sighed and marched
out of the living room. She filled a bucket with soapy water, grabbed a sponge
and squeegee, and went outside to wash the window.
“Those kids!” she grumbled
to herself, shaking her head.
Standing in front of the
window with her soapy sponge in hand, Grandma looked at the mess that had built
up over the past few weeks. She studied it for a while, nodded her head, and
looked some more.
Just as a warm breeze
brushed her from behind, Grandma took a final look at the window and sighed,
and then she gathered her things and went back inside.
****
Grandpa looked up from his
newspaper and glanced at the front window. “I thought you were going to wash
the window,” he said as Grandma passed the living room on her way to the
kitchen to put the bucket away.
Grandma put down the bucket,
entered the living room, and padded over to the window. “I was going to wash
the window,” she said nervously, her eyes shifting back and forth from Grandpa
to the window and back again, “but…but I didn’t.”
“Why not?” replied Grandpa.
“It’s a mess, isn’t it?” he chided. “I know how much you hate a mess.”
“Yes, it’s a mess, but…but
it’s a beautiful mess,” replied Grandma as she traced a finger along several of
Sarah’s and George’s fingerprints. “It’s all I have to remind me that the
children have been here and how special and fun they really are,” she said
softly. “And even though they can’t be here, well…a part of them still is.”
Then suddenly she turned and
strode out of the room, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.
Grandpa watched her leave
and then he smiled.
“That’s right, my dear,” he
murmured into his newspaper. “They certainly are special. And so are you.”
THE END
© 2020, Kathryn
Calvert, All Rights Reserved
