In Her Forest Eyes

A Day of Surprises

A million things run through my mind as I ponder whether I should try to lie, and wonder just exactly how much she knew.  I'm sixteen, and I've been having boyfriends since the 1st grade, but I doubt anything I could say right now could make up for the fact that I never told her about my current one, and avoid the bombardment of questions that was sure to arise.

"I have a strange feeling you already know the answer to that."  I finally say, breaking my eye contact with her as I take a drink to help swallow down the food that was now caught in my throat.  She shifts in her seat and I can still feel her eyes locked on me.

"You know how I feel about not communicating with me Hannah.  Who are this boy's parents?  What grade is he in?  I hope his grades are good..  Please tell me you aren't having sex, are you having sex with him Hannah?"

My eyes widen and I can feel my face burning up; I'm sure it was now a noticeable shade of burgundy.  I again take a drink to help digest the food that I couldn't seem to swallow correctly.

"I'm not even having this conversation right now."  I wipe my mouth and pick my plate up off the table and walk over to the trashcan where I begin to quickly wipe the food off of it. 

"Hannah Rain!  You certainly ARE having this conversation right now!   If you're having sex with him you better let me know right now, because no grandaughter of mine will be living under this roof with a baby!"  My grandmother hardly ever raised her voice above a soft murmur, so I can tell that this subject was obviously one she was passionate about.  Especially since my mother had me when she was 17, and look where she turned up.  Not that I believe it had anything to do with that, nor did it affect her parenting. 

I ignore her briefly as I begin washing my plate off.  My grandpa stands up and exits the room.  I sit the dish in the drainer and turn around as I meet her gaze once again.

"I'm not sleeping with him gram.  His mom is a lawyer, and his dad owns Werchester's Market.  He's in the same grade as I am, and I assure you he will not graduate with anything less than a 4.0 GPA."  I am a terrible liar, but I can see her stiff body relax a little bit, and her eyes open up from the narrow glare she was giving me.

"Why did you not tell me about him then, I could understand if he was some rebel child or something, but he sounds just fine to me.  He's a Werchester, you say?  Good family."  She crosses her leg, and begins eating again as if the previous accusations had never occurred.

"Good question.  I should've known you would've been understanding from the beginning."

She ignores my obvious sarcasm.  "Invite him over some time, I'd like to meet the boy."

I look at her like she must be kidding.  "I don't think so."

She looks up from her meal and faced me again.  "And why not?"

"I doubt very much that he would enjoy ten thousand questions about his family and everything about him from you, and even less colonel up there greeting him with a loaded shotgun and a speech about his journeys through Vietnam."

She smiles slightly.  "You exaggerate."

"If only I did."  I dry my hands on the dishcloth hanging from the stove and begin leaving the room.

"Wait, I'm not done with you young lady." 

"I have work in the morning, can we save it for tomorrow, or I don't know, never?"  I lean up against the doorway. 

"Tomorrow."  She looks at me slyly and continues eating.

I roll my eyes and exit.  I could feel my heart beat slowly returning to a normal pace and I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants as I walk up the steps.  I let out a sigh of relief as I return to my comfy bed and bury myself under it's covers, not bothering to change out of that day's clothes.  I slide my hands down my face.  My aunt and I would be having a serious conversation very soon.  Why would she decide to tell her about Dylan now?  Then again, it could've been worse.  She did leave out a few weensy details, like that she took me to get birth control pills a month ago. Of course, that would get BOTH of us in trouble.