CHAPTER FIFTEEN
[MESSAGES]
Tess: You should chat with Grandma.
Kate: Why?
Tess: Whenever I’m confused about something, I find it helpful to talk to her.
Kate: What makes you think I’m confused?
Tess: You’re saying you’re not?
Kate: What’s your point?
Tess: I’m just saying, if you need to offload on someone, she’s the best person. More than eighty years of wisdom and experience.
Kate: I’ll think about it.
Tess: You’ll feel better. Trust me.
Early Monday evening, after I pick up Lisset from after-school care, I visit my parents. To my surprise, I’m taking Tess’s advice. My sister insisted that when she faced a crossroads in her life, Grandma gave her invaluable advice. I’m not entirely sure what advice I’m seeking, but I’m feeling unsettled and a little lost, and I could do with a good dose of my grandmother’s love and wisdom.
Everyone is gathered in the kitchen. My mom has been baking banana bread and the kitchen is warm from the oven. She cuts Lisset and me a slice each of the bread, and we eat at the kitchen table. Grandma tries to persuade Lisset to slather her piece with jam, but my daughter is rightly skeptical and insists on eating it plain. My dad’s back has thankfully improved and I’m pleased when he joins us at the table, making Lisset giggle with his awful dad jokes.
I tell them about my pancake shoot and how I had to layer aluminum foil between each pancake so the maple syrup could run down the sides easier.
Grandma gets up to rinse her plate. When she passes by Google, she can’t resist throwing out, “Hey, Google, who will be the next president?”
There’s a beat of silence while Google processes her question. “I don’t understand,” it replies.
Frowning, Grandma repeats her question. “Who will be the next president?”
“I don’t understand,” Google says again.
I know it’s an electronic device, but I swear I can hear a hint of panic in its voice.
“Leave Google alone,” Mom says.
Grandma’s stubborn streak is legendary. Ignoring my mom, she asks the question for the third time.
Google’s screen freezes.
“What have you done, Deanna?” my dad asks in disbelief.
A look of awe crosses Lisset’s face. “You broke Google’s brain, GG!”
Grandma’s eyes light up. “Really?”
I shake my head. “Google needs a reboot, that’s all.”
While my dad goes to rescue the beleaguered device, we clean up the dishes. My parents pick up that I want some alone time with my grandmother, so they take Lisset into the dining room for a game of Chinese Checkers. I make Grandma a cup of chamomile tea and we retreat to her living room.
“What’s going on?” she asks me straight out, wasting no time on small talk, which I appreciate.
I tell her about Gideon and how conflicted I’m feeling, how he’s the first man in four years I’m attracted to. I let her know how great he is with Lisset, but how afraid I am of being hurt again.
“And he seems to be a man with too many secrets,” I add.
Her green eyes study me shrewdly. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you have secrets? Information you haven’t told him?”
My composure falters a little. “Yes,” I admit reluctantly.
She sips her tea. “There’s not a person alive who doesn’t keep pieces of their past to themselves. We’re naturally wary creatures. Especially at the beginning of a relationship.”
“But that’s the thing,” I blurt out, “I don’t want a relationship. I’m in a comfortable place right now. Gideon is a distraction I can’t afford.”
Grandma sets down her cup and stares into the middle distance. “You used to love rollercoasters. It was always your favorite ride at the theme park. You’d spend all your money on them.” Her eyes fasten on me. “When was the last time you went on a rollercoaster, Kate?”
Where is she going with this? I shrug impatiently. “I don’t know. I don’t have time for them anymore.”
“You say you want a life of stability, my dear, but deep down you’re a rollercoaster woman. You’ve forgotten that about yourself. Or you’ve chosen not to remember.”
I fold my arms. “You’re wrong, Grandma.”
She doesn’t back down. “You’re the self-appointed bag carrier watching life from the sidelines. But all that baggage you insist on carrying is weighing you down. It’s time to stow your baggage in a locker, where it belongs, and get on that rollercoaster. Gideon comes with risk. Of course he does. But stop watching everyone else have all the fun and thrills because they’re brave enough to take the risk.”
I frown at my grandmother. This talk is not going at all how I envisioned it would go. What I wanted was a gentle pep talk, for her to reassure me I’m doing great with my life exactly as it is. I wanted her to affirm my instincts to keep Gideon safely tucked away in the good neighbor zone.
“What’s really holding you back?” she asks.
“I don’t want to be hurt.” My answer is a whisper.
“Everyone’s afraid of being hurt,” she retorts, not mincing her words “What else?”
I gape at her while I think of all the different ways to repay my sister. When Tess encouraged me to chat with Grandma, she neglected to mention how brutal our frail-looking grandmother could be.
I swallow. I wish I could tell her that since Oliver left, I feel lighter and freer, ready to take on another relationship. But my ex-husband’s voice is still in my head, reminding me of all the ways I failed him. And why I’m still such a failure.
When I confess this to Grandma, she briefly closes her eyes, as if in pain. Then she reaches for my hands and holds them tightly. “That’s not his voice in your head, Kate,” she tells me softly.
“I wasn’t married to anyone else, Grandma.”
“I see Tess’s sassiness is rubbing off on you.”
I’m immediately contrite. “Sorry.”
“What I mean is, Oliver’s voice is long gone,” she explains. “That voice in your head now, that’s your voice.”
I’m staring at her and shaking my head, denying her words, denying the hint of truth there that I feel like an icy wind through my soul. No, no, no .
But Grandma is gently unrelenting. “You’ve grabbed the microphone from Oliver and now you’re the one whispering into it. You’re the one telling yourself you were a failure and that you’ll fail again if you embark on another relationship.” She squeezes my hands. “You have control of that microphone in your head and you need to start telling yourself kinder things. Things that are true, not lies you’ve convinced yourself are the truth.”