Chapter 4 Paya
The smell of crispy bacon, gouda grits, and lemon ricotta pancakes leads me to the kitchen.
The fridge is littered with old photos. Some of Bev, some of Grandma GG’s on set during her more youthful days, and a few of me tucked into the mix.
No baby pictures, no awkward school artwork; just snapshots from poker nights, holidays, and the occasional blurry selfie.
Hearing three women’s laughter and shenanigans, I chuckle when Delli threatens to turn down her hearing aid—again—to avoid Grandma GG and Lisa’s pestering about her losing streak.
Before opening the microwave to retrieve my heaping plate of food, I curiously peek out the window toward the patio.
Grandma GG, an uncut cigar in hand, looks as stoic as ever in a brown newsboy hat and a worn button-down shirt Bev probably gifted her a decade ago.
Lisa, appearing genuinely happy to be alive, leans back in her chair laughing, her salt-and-pepper locs pulled into an elegant bun.
Delli swats at them both like an exasperated schoolteacher, probably swearing in Spanish.
Dinner in one hand, a glass of water in the other, I stroll through the hallway toward the patio to join them. As usual, I appreciate the grand welcome as if they just saw a celebrity. Perhaps, the celebrity I once was.
“There’s our rising star.” Delli waves frantically, her reddish brown hair bouncing as she does.
Instead of forty-dollar yoga pants and a light jacket, I pretend I’m wearing a luxurious emerald ball gown and gracefully bow at their clapping.
Grandma GG greets me with her little song she created for me when I was a kid.
“Paya, my papaya. Sweet as pie. Heart of gold, but she’ll outscheme ya like a spy-aaaaa. ”
I can’t help but giggle. Visiting my on set Grandma and hype woman always brightens my day.
Then she announces to the group. “Paya’s going to be on that TV show Bev loved watching. The Final Summit.”
I wag two finger pistols in her direction, then we exchange cheek kisses. “Thanks to you for putting in a good word. I don’t know exactly what this ‘special role’ entails yet, but I’m nervous and excited.”
She waves my praise away. “I just called in a favor from an old friend who knew a person. This is your much overdue time to shine.” She pats the chair next to her, encouraging me to sit.
“You know, I always thought you were a better actress than Lola. I saw she received another Emmy Award. Imagine what you’ll get one day. ”
I force my best neutral expression, despite the fire igniting in my chest. Over a decade later, hearing her name still stings.
Her show just got renewed for a ninth season, breaking the record as longest running lesbian TV drama.
Guess I should be proud, after all, it was my idea.
I’m convinced the pain of betrayal takes years off your life.
Lola and I became fast friends, then co-stars by ten years old. She was my best friend. I never cared that most of our fan mail had my name on it, or that my face was plastered all over posters. None of that mattered to me. We were a team. Or so I thought.
When I wasn't practicing my lines, I was studying screenwriting, obsessed with proving that I had beauty and brains. At sixteen, I finished my biggest project. I video called Lola the moment I’d completed it.
I pitched her the entire TV script concept, including a massive supporting role I’d written for her.
“It’s cool, I guess. I’ll never write anything like that,” she’d said to me, adding a dismissive shrug, then she changed the subject.
Months later, a new pilot announcement exploded the headlines.
Next thing I know, Lola’s face is everywhere as the lead actress on my show.
I couldn’t prove it. The only person that believed me was Grandma GG, and by then, the damage was done.
Being a teenager in the industry was challenging enough without my best friend stealing from me, so I walked away from acting.
That was the first time I ever quit on myself. I haven’t stopped since.
When I told Grandma GG last year that I was giving up on acting, she flat out refused to listen.
Stubborn as I am, she matched me line for line until she finally circumvented me entirely and called an old poker friend of hers named Marlena.
Marlena happened to be a casting director and offered me an open invitation to read for her, but I let imposter syndrome talk me out of taking the leap.
Two months later, Claudia called with an offer for the reality TV show I’d submitted to on a whim, and the puzzle pieces finally came together.
Lola had a head start, but this was my detour.
Step one: get visibility on a TV show that millions of people watch.
Step two: take Marlena up on her offer. It was the first time in years I had a roadmap that didn't end in giving up.
I push thoughts of the past away and take my seat at the table. Refusing to settle is my path moving forward. My meticulously crafted vision board told me so.
After a round of small talk and dinner, I clear the table and settle into the competitive card game. The summer evening is tempered by a few stars. Another hour passes in what feels like minutes.
“Well, shit.” Lisa darts a glance in my direction. “Hotshot is about to destroy us all.”
All eyes are on me.
I laugh away the pressure. “Wait. What? How would you know that?” I grab my third handful of Delli’s homemade praline trail mix.
“Everyone has a tell, my dear.” Grandma GG tips her hat with a wink.
“I can learn a person’s tell like that.” She snaps her fingers, appearing proud of herself.
Then she leans close to whisper strategy with me.
“Lisa breathes heavy with a big bluff. Delli is usually all or nothing and pulls that crap line of how bad she’s running today.
Bev couldn’t hide her shit-eating grin. The entire casino knew when she had a winning hand. ”
Delli huffs. “Genevieve tries to hide hers, but it’s bullshit.”
After months of card games with this ornery bunch, I hadn’t taken the concept of a “tell” seriously. This is a retirement village for queer women, not a casino in Vegas. Curiosity canvasses my face. “What’s my tell?”
“Sweetheart, if we told you, you’d be stuck hosting the next community party at this old folks’ home. Don’t let these ancient bones fool you. It gets wild after seven-thirty around here.” Lisa chimes in with a wink.
Gives me something to look forward to, I guess. My life isn’t nearly as exciting as their Drag Bingo Wednesdays. I cross my arms and feign a pout. “So, I’m an open book to everyone but myself?”
“A damn entertaining one,” Delli says.
I huff a laugh, then a new thought creeps in. Did Celeste notice my tell? Of course, she did. She notices when someone has moved her coffee mug three centimeters to the left on her desk. I recall my conversation with her this morning when requesting time off. “I bet Celeste saw right through me.”
“That’s Paya’s supervisor,” Grandma GG announces, a proud grin beams across her face like she’s setting up a punchline. “Paya’s got a thing for older women. Just like her grandma.”
Lisa snorts. “At least you didn’t meet yours in jail.”
“Worked out just fine for me.” Grandma GG tips her cigar.
“A misfit like you?” Lisa teases. “Seems about right.” She flicks her gaze to me. “The only problem is, I was standing right next to her, witnessing their love at first sight.”
“Nevermind these bandits. Paya, Tell us about this older woman of yours.” Delli shuffles the deck of cards for the next hand.
I take a long sip of water, hiding the heat greeting my cheeks. Me, talk about a crush on my boss? Absolutely not, so I pivot. “How have I not heard this story?” I’ve heard it a dozen times, but never tire of hearing Grandma GG’s most cherished memories. “Do tell. I love a good meet-cute.”
Grandma GG’s eyes crinkle at the corners like a lovesick teenager.
She launches into story mode. “I was having a drink after my drag king debut at a bar in New York City and the place got raided. Police started rounding up people in droves. It was Bev’s first night bartending at the inn and she got arrested.
Hell of a way to start a job. I hadn’t seen a woman so fiercely courageous and beautiful in my life.
” She pauses, smiling to herself as if recalling the exact magical moment they first met.
Her sun weathered hands gesture toward the table, painting the scene before continuing.
“As we were detained, dykes and dolls flocked the streets. Hundreds of people were holding signs. Chanting. We were stuck together for hours. While she was yelling about her rights, giving scruff to the police, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her.
No matter how hard I tried. Eventually, she sat down next to me and I introduced myself.
She complimented my hair and my singing.
When we were released, I asked her for a date right then and there in front of the shit cop who threw me into the brig to begin with. The rest was history.”
Lisa huffs a laugh. “Boy, the sixties were a riot.”
Grandma GG nods in agreement. “Bev even gave me the nickname GG, which later became my stage name.”
My eyes grow wide. “Wait. GG was your drag king name?!” That’s new information. I swear, my grandmother lives the movie life I would’ve killed to have a role in.
She firmly nods and adjusts the fragile white puff of hair underneath her hat. “And I lived up to it well.”
Lisa and Delli burst into laughter for reasons unknown to me. Meanwhile, I’m racking my brain, trying to figure out what GG actually stands for because apparently I was wrong all these years.
It’s been a few minutes and they’re still giggling like a bunch of high school teenagers. I feel left out. Accepting defeat, I ask, “What’s so funny? And what does GG stand for, then?”
“Nevermind that.” Grandma GG’s face turns serious as she dismisses the moment with a wave of her hand. “Let’s continue playing.”
Starting the next hand, Delli looks up from her cards.
“I’m running bad today. Everything hurts.
” She winces, then shifts restlessly in her seat.
When she meets my playful glare for keeping me in the dark earlier, she cracks under pressure.
“For fuck’s sake, Paya’s not a child, Genevieve.
She’s thirty three. She’ll be fine if she knows. Just tell her.”
The table goes silent. Everyone’s fiercest poker face is on display.
Lisa peers at me, and I back at her. She’s the kindest of the three. A frown in her direction usually does the trick.
It works. She breaks the silence. “It’s a woman’s anatomy, sweetheart. Maybe you’ve heard of it. The G-spot—”
I spit out my drink, barely missing the table and hitting the grass. “Genevieve G-spot? Oh my god. Grandma, were you a fuckboy?! Nevermind. Don’t answer that. You should’ve just lied to me.”
They all howl, laughing even louder than before. Never a dull moment.
Joining them, I somehow gather my composure to speak after being equal parts mortified and finding this moment hilarious. “We’re already going to hell for lying to my boss, Grandma G—I can’t say it right now.” I shake my head, my face scrunched.
“Nonsense. Hell doesn’t even want that old bat,” Delli beams.
“Delli took her spot, anyhow.” Lisa taps her glass against Grandma GG’s in victory.
I take it all in, grateful for not missing game night. Knowing I’ll be absent for more and we really don’t know when it’s our last day, I push the thought away. “Never change, Grandma GG.”
“Only for the better, sugarplum.” She pulls me into a side hug. “And don’t forget your sunscreen. I put a bottle on the console table for you. Thailand’s sun shows no mercy, even with that Mediterranean complexion from your momma’s side.”
“You’re always looking out for me.” Warmth spreads through my chest, forcing me to hug her tighter. This is family. Not by blood, but something far more important. “Love you. I’m going to miss you all.”
Back at our game, a slight evil grin forms on my lips as I peer down at the royal flush in my hands.
I grab a fistful of trail mix. “It’s about time for me to go to the airport, anyway.
” I’m ready to slam my winning hand on the table, the way I always do before collecting hugs and kisses and heading out the door victorious, but the look on Grandma GG’s face stops my hand mid-air.
She leans back in her seat, cigar resting between her fingers, watching me the way she does when she knows something I don’t.
“Don’t let ‘em read you too easily. Not everyone at that table will be playing fair.”