Mrs. Ritchie put on her coat and she too remembered a parcel. “Minna dear,” she said, handing her daughter an oversized shoebox, “take this with you on the trip. It might come in handy.”
Her daughter eyed the box suspiciously. “Come in handy?” She’d heard that formula before. “Mother! You’d think we were crossing the continent in the covered wagon days. Haven’t we enough to carry?”
“Be thankful, Minna, it isn’t a roast turkey with all the trimmings,” her father said, laughing while Minna shook her head in mock despair.
John cleared his throat and impulsively put his arms around his parents-in-law. “We know how good you’ve been to us, and how patient. But as musicians, we must go where opportunity beckons.”
Judy stood with her mother at the window and watched her grandparents walk slowly to their car. Their shoulders touched, Grandma holding Grandpa’s arm.
“They’re so wonderful,” her mother murmured. “They made our careers possible. It wasn’t easy for us, nor for them.” Her voice was low, as if speaking to herself. “Struggle ... to get even this far—”
“What struggle?” Judy wondered. All those exciting trips her parents took to faraway countries? Of course, they were rarely able to get engagements together. Last month her father was in Canada and her mother in Argentina. But in only two weeks they were back. As for herself, she always had her grandparents! They disliked the city and the cramped quarters of their daughter’s apartment. But they came just the same, giving it, even for a week or two, something of the atmosphere of their own home. A corner of the living room was turned into a studio for Grandfather where he painted happily after a busy day at the office. In another corner of the living room Grandmother had her typewriter where she labored, when time permitted, at stories hopefully sent off, but whose return never disheartened her for long! Records were played, but the piano was rarely opened. Yes, it was fun having her grandparents move in. Members of the family dropped in whom Judy otherwise never saw. And the joy of the theater! Once it was “Medea.” When her grandmother protested, Grandfather had said, “What, have the girl miss the chance of seeing Judith Anderson!” They sat in the balcony, Grandmother wearing Grandfather’s glasses. She always insisted her eyes were perfect, except now and then. Her firm, straight back was bent forward, not to miss a single word. Grandfather sat at ease, enjoying himself.
Her mother touched her arm. “What are you thinking about, Judy?”
“Nothing ... just remembering some wonderful times with Grandmother and Grandfather.”
Her mother sighed. “It seems only a few years ago that they were climbing mountains! Now they seem old.”