Dinner was really good tonight. Fettuccine Alfredo with chicken and garlic bread. It has always been my favorite restaurant dish growing up, but this was better than any I've had. Of course, I couldn't let them know that. I refuse to show any sign of liking anything. I have my pride. So, as much as I wanted to shovel the food in haste, I chose to eat at a slower pace, kind of picking at it a little. I'd sneak big bites when the others were distracted with conversation.
After dinner, I tried to go back to my room, but Gram ushered me out to the porch for tonight's sing-along. I am not amused. I marched over to the porch swing and plopped myself down without looking to see if there was anything other than cushions on the seat. I should've looked. My abruptness in sitting not only made the seat sway but it also startled the skunk that was sleeping on it. It jumped on all fours and chirped, and I screamed and ran to May who didn't fully realize what was happening until I was fully and securely mounted to her shoulders like a frightened monkey. Gram ran to the skunk. The skunk!!! She picked it up and petted it, all the while consoling it like I had hurt it or something. She even kissed the thing!
The others just laughed. Loudly. I am even less amused. Once the skunk was a fair distance away, I climbed off May and stalked back inside running into Jimmy in the process. "Hey!! Watch it, Princess." He grumbled. "You're gonna hurt someone stomping around like that."
"I'm sorry. I didn't see you." He held me still by shoulder, so I glared at him as I yanked my shoulder away. "And it's Melissa. Not Princess."
"Well, you are certainly acting like a spoiled princess, aren't you? Too good to spend time with us commoners?"
"Yeah, well, I was just attacked by a rabid skunk so forgive me if I'm not in the mood..."
"Rabid skunk? Ha, you mean Jackie? He's harmless. Mom bottle-raised him from a pup. He's just a big baby."
Jackie? Isn't that name of 'Gramma's friend' May told me about? Wait, that was one of my delusions wasn't it? Still an odd coincidence though. "Still," I huffed crossing my arms.
"Join us," he said. "Let's keep your warden happy, shall we?"
I dropped my arms in defeat and rolled my eyes. "Fine!"
He opened the door behind me and put a hand on my back to guide (push) me out onto the porch. "After you, your majesty."
I stuck my tongue out at him. He stuck his out in return.
I spent the rest of the evening stewing in the corner patio chair as they played their instruments and sang. I'll admit, Jimmy has a good voice. I still hate country Christian music, but his voice is soothing enough to make it bearable. Tuna and Mackerel arrived at dusk; I mean Tony and Michael. Good Lord these people are going to ruin me for names. Michael, not Mackerel, had brought a violin and Tony, not Tuna, sat down at a dusty, old, beat up piano that was sitting on the porch. Everyone took a seat as Michael started to play his violin. A moment or two later, Jimmy joined in with his guitar, Tony started playing the piano and they started singing Amazing Grace. For a moment, a very shallow moment I wished I knew the words, so I could sing along. Instead, I closed my eyes and listened, mindlessly rocking my foot to the beat comforted by the forlorn sound of Michael's violin.
My mind wandered through hazy memories of the past year as they sang. Shadows and shapes of parties I had gone to, each one with Jude; each one ending with us getting high on whatever Jude had in his pocket. I never asked questions, even when I had them because I trusted him. I loved him. He was so much more than just friend. We shared each other's secrets and dreams. He'd tell me everything that was going on at his house and how he hated it so much, yet he was doing the same things. As the song progressed the memories got darker. Colder somehow. I hugged myself, rubbing my arms to warm up a little. Suddenly the odor of vodka filled my sinuses, and, in my mind, I was once again pinned beneath Jude in the backseat of his car. His breath was hot on face, one of his hands holding both of mine together at the wrist, the other removing my lower clothes. I struggled in vain because I was high. I'm weaker when I'm high; Jude is stronger; a LOT stronger. He brought his face to mine and licked the side of my face. I pushed against him with all my might and screamed, "Stop!!" I shot my eyes open and found my hands pushing against the chest of a very, very large dog. The same dog that knocked me over the day I got here. My heart hammered against my chest, my cheeks flushed and the lump in my throat threatened to prevent further breathing.
"Bruno!" May yelled, grabbing the dog by its collar. "Get down!" The dog reluctantly obeyed and left the porch. "Sorry, honey pot. He's a bit of a love bug. Doesn't realize how big he is."
I wiped the wet from my face with my sleeve as I got up. I said nothing to anyone. I just went back inside to my room. The dream, or memory or whatever had me unraveled. It was so real. I couldn't stop the tears as I dropped face down into the bed. 'Oh, Jude. What did you do? How could you...'
"You know, even the darkest hours in our lives can lead to something beautiful."
I shot up from the bed to face the voice at the window. "How'd you get in here?" I demanded.
"I can get anywhere in my own house, little girl. Your room is not off limits to me."
"What I meant was; how did you get in here? I didn't hear you come through the door."
"Maybe I was already here. You didn't exactly look around when you came bursting in."
"Okay." That must've been true because I didn't hear the door or her footsteps. "So... what are doing in here?"
"I like the view from this window. I enjoy looking out over fields. It's quite peaceful. You see that little house out there about mile back?"
I walked to the window and looked. "It's dark out. I don't see anything."
"You don't have to see it to know it's there. Just like if you don't clearly remember certain events doesn't mean they didn't happen." I blinked, my mind racing. What was she implying? What does she know that I don't? She looked into my widen eyes and smiled sympathetically. Turning back to the window she continued her story. "That little house is where you were born. It's where your parents lived until my Jeremy passed away. It's been left untouched since your mom left."
I looked at Gram's profile and saw a single tear trickle down her cheek in the dim moon light. "I'm sorry," was all I could think of to say.
"So am I." she muttered. Suddenly taking a sharp intake of air, she turned her face to mine. "This was your home once, Magpie. I can be again if you let it. Everyone here is family to you in one way or another."
"I have Mom and..."
"Jude?"
I rubbed the shiver from arms. "Yeah," I whispered avoiding eye contact.
She was silent for a moment. I felt the weight of her stare and it made me feel as if she were seeing into my soul. She was on her way out of the room when she spoke again. "Well, regardless. You have eleven months left with us and I think it's about time you start contributing."
"What do mean?"
"Everyone here contributes. We all have jobs to do and tomorrow, you will start yours."
"What? I don't know the first thing about what it is you guys do around here!"
"You'll learn. Better get some sleep. Morning comes early around here."
"How early?"
"Before dawn. Sleep well."
What?!! "Before d... Are you crazy?" I said following her to the door.
She winked with a playful grin. "My son asked me that same question the day you arrived." She was about to shut the door then turned back to me. "I almost forgot. This came in the mail today for you. Wasn't sure if you were ready for what's in it..."
"You read it?"
"No. Don't need to. I know all I need to know when I need to know it."
"What does that even mean?"
"It means, Bruno thinks you can handle the contents of this letter. And I'll trust a dog over a man any day." With that she exited the room, shutting the door behind her. Yep, she is certifiably nuts.
I went to the overstuffed chair near the window and turned the lamp on to read the letter.
YOU ARE READING
My Year with Grandma
Historia CortaI have been getting into trouble often over the last year and Mom had hit her breaking point. When faced with the choice between a state-run boarding school for troubled teens or my grandma, Mom chose what she called 'the lesser of the two evils'...