Free Grandma Robot by Fay Risner

this for?” Karen
asked.
    “A jar for you and one for me.
We're going to catch lightning bugs. Get out in the yard and see
how many you can snatch out of the air,” ordered Henie.
    So for the next hour, the two of
them laughed and encouraged each other as they grabbed at the air.
When they succeeded in catching a lightening bug, they held closed
fists over the jelly jars to release the bugs and slipped on the
lid.
    Finally, Karen held her jar up so
it caught the living room window light. “Think we have enough,
Henie. My jar looks almost full.”
    “So is mine. Now let's take them
in the house and put them on our bedroom dressers. It's always fun
to watch them light in the dark after we go to bed,” Henie said.
She paused. “You do want to take the jars in, don't
you?”
    “Sure I do,” Karen said, taking
Henie's jar so Henie could hold the railing to step up to the
porch.
    Karen rushed to her room and set
her jar on her lamp table. She went across the hall and set Henie's
jar on her dresser.
    In the mirror, Karen watched Henie
wiggle into her white, cotton night gown by the bed. Karen looked
at her image in the mirror and then at Henie. The robot was taking
the pins out of her hair and running her fingers through it. The
bun spilled wavy hair down to her shoulders.
    “Henie, do you think I'm anything
like my mother?” Karen asked.
    Henie picked up her white night cap
on the foot of the bed, stuck it on her head and pushed the ruffle
out of her eyes. She came to the dresser, laid her handful of hair
pins in a pile and met Karen's eyes in the mirror.
    Henie smiled at her. “I was afraid
you were headed that way at one time, but lately you've loosened up
enough that you're plumb likable.”
    Karen turned and gave Henie a hug.
“If I have loosened up as you put it, it's all your fault you
know.”
    “In that case, I'll gladly take
the blame for something that's turning out right in your world,”
Henie said, patting Karen's back.
    The next afternoon, Karen stopped
typing, thinking she needed to take a coffee break and rest her
fingers. A car rumbled into the driveway, stopped. A door slammed.
“Who could that be?”
    She was almost across the living
room when the front door burst open. “Mom!”
    “Hello, Karen,” her mother said
cheerfully. Slung over her right arm was the handle of a tote box
full of bottles and rags. Over her left arm hung a large black
purse full of pockets.
    Karen pointed at the box. “What
have you got there?”
    “My cleaning supplies. I thought
as long as I was coming I might as well bring them along just in
case,” Helen said offhandedly. “I know I was taking a chance not
bringing a broom with me, but I thought surely you have one of
those.”
    “I told you the house is in good
shape. You shouldn't have bothered to come all the way out here,”
Karen defended.
    “I know you did. How about fixing
me a cup of coffee for go power while I look around just to make
sure.” Her mother wasn't used to taking no for an answer. She made
a swipe across the lamp table with her finger. “Well, I'll be.
That's not dusty.”
    “I told you,” Karen said quietly.
She glanced upstairs and didn't see Henie. If she was lucky, the
robot would stay in her bedroom until her mother left. She headed
for the kitchen. “Let's go make that coffee. As long as you're
here, you might as well have a cup with me. I'm ready for a coffee
break.”
    “Why are you talking so low? Do
you have a sore throat?” Helen said as she felt Karen's
forehead.
    “No, Mom. I'm fine. Stop that,”
Karen replied as she grabbed her mother by the elbow and headed her
to the kitchen. Helen set her cleaning supplies on the counter
along side the purse and slid into a chair at the table. She folded
her hands together and watched her daughter start the coffee
maker.
    Karen sit down by her. “It doesn't
take long. We'll have coffee in no time.”
    “Good. That's just enough time to
tell me what's going on out here. Spill the