Stewie felt his head spinning with all the sudden changes to his situation.
“Grandfathers,” he repeated. “I never even thought about grandfathers. I never even had one. Well, I had two, of course, like everybody else, but I didn’t have any that I actually knew. So a grandfather never even occurred to me.”
“Major oversight,” Mr. Peterson said. “Very unfortunate oversight. But don’t worry. Earl and I will fix it.”
Stewie stuck his head into the old familiar room. The one that had been Marilyn and Louise’s just a week ago, and now was Louise’s alone.
She was sitting on her bed, staring out the window, but with her hands in rapid motion. She was crocheting something out of robin’s-egg-blue yarn. Her normally wild mass of gray hair had been pulled back into a wild ponytail.
“Oh, Stewie,” she said. “I wondered if I’d see you today.”
He walked around and stood in her line of vision, between her bed and the window, so she didn’t have to crane her neck around.
“Are you okay, Stewie? You look a little shell-shocked.”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
“Oh. Let’s see. It’s really originally about men who lived through a war, but in this case I guess it means . . . sort of . . . worn out by shocks or surprises.”
“Oh. Okay. Yeah, that’s me, I guess. I came to ask you a question. Remember when you said I could adopt you for a grandmother if I ever needed to? Well, I was on my way up here to say, ‘Yes, please. I need to.’ But then, on the way up here, the strangest things started happening. Everybody else started adopting me. Joni and Marjorie and Miss Jenna and Mrs. Wilson. And then Mr. Watkins and Mr. Peterson overheard, and they decided I shouldn’t have all those grandmothers but no grandfathers, so then they adopted me, too.” He watched her closely as he spoke, to see if he was disappointing her, but it seemed almost the opposite. A little smile seemed to be budding on her face. “Now I’m not sure if I should ask you, because I don’t really need to adopt you, what with all those other grandparents, and maybe it’s too many people. I guess my question is . . . is that offer still open?”
“Why, of course it is!” she said, unleashing the smile completely.
“But that would be five grandmothers and two grandfathers.”
“So? Couldn’t happen to a nicer young man, if you ask me.”
“You don’t think it’s selfish?”
“How is it selfish? Who does it hurt? All those people offered because they wanted to. Because they enjoy your company. They probably wanted it as much for their sake as for yours.”
“That’s nice of you to say. But most people only get four.”
“Stewie,” she said. She reached out and took a gentle but firm grip on his forearm, pulled him over to the bed, and sat him down next to her. “Listen to me. All your life you’ve had less than everyone else, and it wasn’t fair. But did anyone act like it was selfish of them to have more when you didn’t? Did anybody ever give up a parent or a grandparent so you wouldn’t feel so bad?”
“I guess not, no.”
“Take what’s offered to you, son. You had too little, less than everybody else gets, now you have more. Sounds like it evens out just right to me.”
It was nearly dark by the time he came through his own kitchen door. Stacey and Theo were eating dinner at the kitchen table, and they looked up at him with mild surprise.
“Your plate is in the oven,” Stacey said.
“Okay. Great. Thanks. I’m starved.”
He opened the oven and touched the plate briefly to see how hot it was. But the oven was only on “Warm,” so he could pick it up without a hot mitt. It was a ham steak with macaroni on the side, which struck Stewie as exciting. It meant that Stacey had just gotten paid.
He sat down at the table with it and dug in.
“We were surprised,” Stacey said. “We thought you’d just deliver the eggs and come right home. Because of . . . you know. Things being what they are now. I even woke up around lunchtime and got a little worried and called over to Eastbridge, but they said everything was fine and that you were just there visiting.”
Stewie set down his fork and spoke with his mouth rudely full of ham. It was unlike him, but he simply couldn’t wait another minute to share the news. Only his hunger had delayed him this long.
“Ask me how many grandparents I have.”
A few beats of silence fell.
“I don’t get it,” Stacey said.
“Just ask me.”
“You don’t have any grandparents. Or . . . I don’t know. You have four but they’re all gone? Oh, wait, I’m sorry. I forgot about Marilyn. You have five but they’re all gone? Do they all count even though they’re gone?”
“Stacey!” he said, unable to disguise his irritation. He shoveled another oversize piece of ham into his mouth and spoke while chewing. “You’re not doing this right!”
“Well, I’m sorry, Stewie, but I guess I don’t know what right is in this case.”
Theo looked up from his single-pointed focus on his plate and chimed in.
“You do it like this, Stacey. Stewie. How many grandparents do you have?”
Stacey only looked confused for a moment.
“Was that right, what he just said?” she asked Stewie.
“Perfect,” Stewie said.
“Theo, how did you know that?”
“Because I know Stewie. When he tells you to do something like that, you just take him very literally. Because he means it very literally.”
Stacey blinked a few times and then set down her fork. She had just about cleaned her plate anyway.
“Stewie,” she said. “How many grandparents do you have?”
“Jeez, it’s about time. Seven! I have seven grandparents. Five grandmothers and two grandfathers.”
“All adopted, I assume.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think that makes it any less good.”
“I don’t, either. I think it’s great, hon. All from Eastbridge?”
“Yup.”
“That’s handy,” Theo said. “Because that way you can visit them all in one place.”
“Exactly! Only, I think I may be going over to family dinners sometimes at Marjorie’s, so I can meet her other grandkids. There are a lot.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” Stacey said. “I have a message for you from Janet at Eastbridge. She’s the one I spoke to when I was worried about you earlier. She said she didn’t get a chance to talk to you today because you were so busy with everybody else, but she wants you to call her or come visit. She has an idea she wants to run by you.”
Stewie rolled his eyes expansively.
“Eight grandparents!” he shouted. “Six grandmothers and two grandfathers!”
“How do you know that was her idea?”
“Because that’s everybody’s idea!”
He was in bed but not asleep when Stacey came around and stood in his open bedroom doorway. The only light in the house was a glow that trickled down the hall from the kitchen, but it was enough to let him know that it was Stacey, and to make her look a little bit like a dream about an angel.
“You asleep?” she asked in a whisper.
“Nope. I was just lying here thinking about all those grandparents. How come you’re not at work?”
“I have Sunday nights off this month. You knew that.”
“Oh, that’s right.”
She came across the room to him and sat on the edge of his bed. He rolled onto his back so he could see her better in the darkness, and she brushed his tangled hair off his forehead with her fingers.
“I was just wondering if you’re doing okay with all these changes,” she said.
“You act like it’s a bad thing.”
“No, no. Not at all. Definitely a good thing. It’s just that . . . I know you, Stewie, and I know you have trouble with new things and new people. And I just thought it might all be a little . . . overwhelming.”
“I’m not sure about that last word.”