Free Barbara's Plea by Stacy Eaton, Dominque Agnew Page A

whom she had been very close, the other not so much. Her younger son, Don, had passed away a few years ago from a heart attack while playing golf. The older one lived down south someplace, and she never spoke to him.
    Somewhere out there she had four grandchildren, but only one of them stayed in contact with her, and he lived in Michigan.
    It was a shame that such an amazing woman was relatively alone. Not anymore, I thought, she has me. I’ll do whatever I can for her while I’m here—and I’ll start by finding out who is in her driveway.
    I pulled open the door and found the car parked out front, the silhouette of someone in the front seat, head bent over the steering wheel. I squinted as I tried to see what he was doing. The light from the porch shined out just enough that I could distinguish long blond hair.
    I stepped out the door and waited for the driver to look up. The head was shaking up and down. Was it a she? Was she crying?
    I walked down the three steps and began to cross the driveway to the car. The woman never looked up, but the closer I got, the better I could see, and she was indeed crying.
    I tapped a knuckle gently on the window, and she jumped, turning a tear-stained face my way, the most beautiful tear-stained and emotional face I had ever seen. The stark pain in her eyes forced me back a step. She swiped her hands over her face quickly as she tried to gather herself, then she reached for the door handle.
    She looked up at me before she opened it, and instead of pulling the lever, lowered the window. “Who are you?” she asked.
    I stared down at her. “Who am I? Who are you?”
    She glanced at the house. “I asked you first.”
    “My name is Grey Bloodstone.”
    She quirked her eyebrows and laughed, “That’s your name?” Even though I should have been insulted at her question, the sound of her laugh touched something deep inside of me.
    “Yes, that’s my name, and what is yours?”
    “What are you doing here?” Her eyes were dark, and I couldn’t make out the color, but I could tell they were wide and alert.
    “I live here,” I answered.
    “Oh, you’re hired help. Okay, fine.” She put the window up and opened the door, pushing a button on the dashboard. “You can grab the suitcases in the back and bring them in.” She stepped out and didn’t make eye contact with me again.
    “Wait a second,” I said as she opened the back door and climbed half inside. I peered through the window to see what she was getting from the back and saw her taking a sleeping child from a car seat.
    Okay, maybe Gloria was expecting them and she forgot to tell me. I went around the back and lifted the lid. There were two small suitcases in the back. Obviously, this was a short visit. I picked them up as she came around the back of the car.
    “You didn’t tell me what your name was,” I said as I closed the trunk.
    “Grey, honey, whom is that you’re talking to?” The area where we were standing was barely lit.
    “Grandma?” The woman’s voice cracked with emotion. She stepped around me to see Gloria.
    “Barbie? Is that you?”
    Barbie? She laughs at my name and hers is Barbie? I shook my head and followed her to the steps. Gloria had thrown her arms around Barbie, and what I assumed was her great grandchild while I sidestepped them and placed their bags inside the house.
    A squeal of fright spun me around, and I saw Barb take a step back. The light from the porch lit her features, and I saw the bright green eyes for the first time. My heart skipped a beat.
    Barbie tried to calm the young girl in her arms who had been startled awake by the welcoming hug. She clung to her mother’s neck. Barbie’s long hair was pushed back to the side and revealed a dark shadow under her ear. Was that a bruise?
    “Barbie, honey, what are you doing here? Why didn’t you call?”
    “Gigi, I’m sorry. I couldn’t. Can we go inside, and I’ll explain?”
    “Of course.”
    Barbie glanced over her shoulder and