Grandma Rose’s Umbrella

On Tuesdays, Grandma Rose picked Nora up from school. And when it rained, Grandma Rose brought her umbrella. Not some little umbrella, oh no: a giant red umbrella with white polka dots, so big it looked like a tent. “It belonged to my mother, and to her mother before that,” Grandma Rose always said.

That Tuesday, the rain was coming down hard. It drummed on the umbrella, plip, plop, plip, and made rings in the puddles. Nora held Grandma Rose’s hand, and they walked along snug and dry, pressed close together.

At the bus stop, Nora stopped. The shelter was already crowded. And next to it, out in the rain, stood Adam. Adam had joined her class two weeks ago. He hardly ever talked. He was waiting for the bus with his big sister, and they both had their hoods up. But it was raining so hard that their hoods weren’t doing much good.

Nora looked at Adam. She didn’t really know him. She wasn’t even sure he wanted anyone to talk to him. She looked at the red umbrella, so big and so round. Then she gave Grandma Rose’s sleeve a gentle tug. “Grandma, your umbrella is as big as a tent. Can Adam and his sister get under it?” Grandma Rose smiled. “Good idea. Do you want to ask them?”

Nora stepped closer, her heart beating a little fast. “Adam, do you want to come under my grandma’s umbrella? It’s huge.” Adam looked at her, surprised. Then he nodded. His big sister said, “Thanks, that’s really nice of you!” And just like that, all four of them were under the red umbrella with white polka dots.

With four people, it was a tight fit. Raindrops dripped onto the shoulders of whoever was on the edge. Adam’s sister had one foot in a puddle, Grandma Rose’s hat was crooked, and everyone started laughing. Then Adam said, very softly, “It’s like a little house.” It was the first time Nora had heard his voice.

While they waited for the bus, Grandma Rose told them about the day her umbrella blew away at the beach, and a man chased it all the way down to the water. Adam laughed. Then he told them that at his house, there was a cat who liked to sleep in the rain boots. Nora laughed too. The time went by so fast that they were almost surprised when the bus pulled up.

Adam climbed on with his sister. Through the rainy window, he gave Nora a big wave. Nora waved back with both hands, and Grandma Rose twirled the red umbrella, as if she were saying goodbye too.

The next morning, when Nora got to school, Adam was waiting for her by the classroom door. He handed her a piece of paper folded in half. On it, he had drawn a giant red umbrella with white polka dots, and underneath it, four pairs of feet: small ones, big ones, and two feet in a puddle. “It’s for you,” said Adam. At recess, they played together, and Adam talked and talked and talked.

That evening, the old umbrella was drying wide open in the bathtub, like an enormous mushroom. Nora hung the drawing above her bed. Outside, it was still raining a little, very gently. Nora listened to the drops on the window. Maybe it would rain again tomorrow. And for once, Nora kind of hoped it would.