Days like Grass

When Ruth answered after three rings, Edy opened her smiling mouth wide, her eyes beaming brightly, and in a very cheery voice, she responded, “Hi.”
And in the instant, her face dropped as she remembered what she was calling about.
“My dad died.”
All the life was gone from her voice, and there was silence.
“Edy?”
“My dad died,” she repeated, even flatter than the first time.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I’m coming over now.”
Finally, Edy started crying. Not blubbering, just modest crying, but in Ruth she found permission to feel the pain of her loss. Her friend consoled her and made sure she was calm.
“Can I bring you anything?”
“Yes,” Edy answered shakily. “Maybe some huckleberry ice cream.”
“Edy, no one around here has that.”
“Nature Foods does.”
“That’s in Templeton, honey. Half hour away.”
“I’ll pay your gas.”
“No, sweetie, I mean it’s ice cream. It’ll be soup by the time you get it.”
“Oh, right,” Edy said. “Don’t worry about it, then.”
“I’m leaving right now. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Edy put down the phone and thanked God for Ruth. She couldn’t stop her mind from worrying again about all that had to be done and taken care of, but she took a deep breath and waited patiently for her friend.