Six
W hen Jasmine returned to the apartment that evening, she barely had her shoes off before she was dialing her grandmother’s phone number. Would she even have cell phone coverage? She hadn’t checked the itinerary in about a week, so she had no idea where her grandmother was apt to be, how close she might be to land. Beyond that, she didn’t know if it was an excursion day, a time when she was likely to be so busy enjoying herself that she wouldn’t even hear her phone ring, if she even had it on her.
As the phone began to ring, she crouched down next to the cat backpack to release Cheddar, petting Gator at the same time as he twined around her legs. “I’ll feed you boys in a minute,” she promised the animals, before walking into the living room to stare out the window as the phone continued to ring.
She was just about to give up when her grandmother’s voice came through the line, sounding tinny and distant. “Jasmine? Is that you?”
Jasmine sighed with relief at that familiar voice, her grandmother’s accent so unlike her own and yet such a source of comfort and grounding. She was surprised by the emotion that welled up in her throat, nearly spilling out of her eyes.
That is, of course, until she remembered why she had called her grandmother. “Yes, it’s me, Grandma. How’s it going?” She fixed her lips in a line, already prepared for the scolding she would need to deliver once the pleasantries had been dispensed with.
“Oh, it’s just lovely, Jasmine. I wish we could have brought you with us! You would just love St. Kitts. The weather has been absolutely gorgeous, and the food . Well, let’s just say I could retire on board this ship and be happy as a clam.”
“That’s nice,” said Jasmine, forcing a smile into her voice, though it was obvious to her why she hadn’t been asked along on the cruise. If she weren’t here to take care of the apartment, Gator, and the cafe, then what other plan did her grandmother have? Sure, it was a fortuitous ask for her, as she had been in need of somewhere to go and something to do, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t bailed out her grandmother at the same time.
“Is everything okay there? How are the cats? Give Gator a scratch for me. And how are you?”
“Everything is fine here, Grandma. Except…well, I guess there’s no point beating around the bush. What in the world did you say to this Burak character about me?”
“Oh!” There was laughter in her grandmother’s voice now. “You met Burak? That’s wonderful. Isn’t he just such a gem? I thought the two of you would get along famously, and I don’t even need to ask, but don’t you?”
Jasmine spoke through gritted teeth. “Tough to say. I just met him today, so the jury is still out as far as what I think about him. But imagine my surprise to learn that he apparently already knows everything about me, and as soon as he knew that I was your granddaughter, he turned on the charm and practically flirted my face off.”
There was a pause. “I’m afraid I don’t know what that means, dear. But why do you sound so upset? Burak is a lovely fellow, and I wouldn’t have sung your praises to him if I didn’t mean every word and if I didn’t believe with all my heart that he was a good man.”
A deep sigh escaped Jasmine’s lips. “That is so not the point, Grandma.”
“Then what is, dear? I’m having trouble following what’s got you so upset.”
Jasmine shook her head. Was her grandmother really that clueless, or was she actively manipulating her granddaughter? And was that granddaughter justified in being as frustrated as she felt, or was there a chance, perhaps, that she was overreacting?
Too late now to change tactics, she told herself. “It’s the blindsiding, actually. It’s the fact that this total stranger knew all about me and apparently already had your blessing to…what, date me? And I’d never even heard of him. I felt so exposed, Grandma. That was seriously uncool.”
“I’m sorry if you didn’t appreciate the surprise of it all, dear. I didn’t consider that. But you have to remember that he’s only a total stranger ”—Jasmine could practically hear her grandmother making air quotes over those two words—“to you. To me, he’s an old friend. I wouldn’t have sung your praises to a stranger on the street.”
“Okay, well…” Jasmine trailed off. What could she even say to that? With every word out of her grandmother’s mouth, she felt more and more like there was a chance she was overreacting.
Until, that is, Viola spoke again.
“And as far as you not liking surprises, well, I’m afraid I didn’t even consider that. I just imagined myself in your shoes, young and single and beautiful, and the idea of someone older and wiser playing matchmaker for me felt, frankly, exciting.” It sounded like Viola was barely holding herself back from giggling. “If anything, you should be thanking me, dear. Or perhaps that comes later, once you realize just what a wonderful gift it is that I’ve given you.”
“Uh uh. No way.” Jasmine stared at her reflection in the glass, giving herself a “is she serious? She can’t be serious” eyebrow raise as she shook her head. “First of all, it doesn’t work that way, even if you want it to. And second of all, do you really think that my life is so sad and empty that I’m just dying to be introduced to the right man? If I’m going to thank you profusely for anything—which I have, time and time again, if you’ll recall—it’ll be for the opportunity to stay here. To be in Istanbul. To run the cafe. These are all life-changing things, Grandma, and I don’t take them lightly.” She sighed. “I just wish I didn’t get the feeling that you believe I won’t be happy unless I’ve got a man by my side.”
“Jasmine.” Viola’s tone was stern, and Jasmine noted the use of her first name over the usual “dear” with alarm. “I never said that, and don’t put words in my mouth. Goodness knows I’ve had plenty of experiences and successes that didn’t revolve around relationships. I was happy with your grandfather, of course, but I managed to be happy again when he was gone. And I’m happy now with Morty. My happiness, just like yours, doesn’t depend solely on the partner that’s by my side.”
Jasmine waited for the other shoe to drop.
“But just because you’re a feminist and I’m a feminist and we could all burn our bras right now if we wanted to, does that mean that I should stop myself from sending you someone who just might happen to be your soulmate? Must I deprive you of that just…what? To make some kind of point about how it’s not so bad being single?”
“Um.” Jasmine’s voice was small. “What do you mean, soulmate ? I thought you just thought Burak was a nice young man. Handsome. Respectful, I assume. Or ambitious, or whatever.”
Viola sighed. “Well, that’s all I intended to tell you, yes. But then you got me all fired up, and I said some things I didn’t mean to say.” She paused for a beat before she continued. “But it’s true. It’s not just those surface level things that made me connect the dots and want you to meet Burak. There’s something deeper there, I know it. Something that was practically begging me to get the two of you in the same room. Of course I was also trying not to scare you off in the process and I’m afraid I may have ruined that.”
All of Jasmine’s self righteousness deflated at her grandmother’s words, replaced by something that felt more like anxiety. Her grandmother had expectations of what could—what should , as far as she was concerned—exist between Jasmine and Burak, and not only did it seem like she had already ruined it, but the idea of letting down both her grandmother and her future self’s potential happiness was all too much.
“Will you do something for me?” Viola’s voice sounded small, coming down the line. “Will you just…I don’t know, give Burak, give yourself a chance?” She sighed. “I’m guessing from how quiet you got that you’re causing yourself a great deal of stress right now, and that’s exactly why I didn’t want to tell you any of this. I didn’t want to give you a reason to clam up around that man, not when he’s someone who absolutely would appreciate you being yourself, being authentic. Don’t put too much pressure on it, either. Just because I think the two of you would be great together, well…to be perfectly frank about it, what the hell do I know? It’s not like I have a lot of young male friends, or even a lot of granddaughters, for that matter.”
“So, what do you want me to do?” Jasmine’s throat felt dry as the words squeaked out.
“Can you just be friends with him? I can text him and tell him to stop flirting with you—”
“Oh, I think I already put a stop to that,” Jasmine interjected.
“All right, then.” There was a hint of laughter in Viola’s voice. “But friends…can you do that? It’ll make it easier for the two of you to work together, and it’ll probably make the time you spend together a lot more pleasant.”
“And if we just happen to fall in love?” Jasmine knew the words had come out with a harsher bite than she had intended, but she was too raw to care.
“If that happens, I won’t be mad about it,” said Viola. “And I don’t think you should be either. But don’t put any pressure on yourself or on him. Just try to be cool. Can you be cool?”
Jasmine’s laugh was humorless. “Have you met me, Grandma? Have I ever given you the impression of being cool?”
“All the time, dear. All the time. Of course, I’m still not entirely clear on what that word means.”
Jasmine shook her head as she laughed. “That’s a sick burn, Grandma, whether you meant it that way or not.”
“Yes, well. If there’s nothing else I can do for you, I should get back to Morty. He’s giving me those puppy dog eyes and—”
“Got it, say no more.” Jasmine held up a hand as if to create a physical barrier between herself and some words she definitely didn’t need to hear. “Enjoy your trip, Grandma. See you when you’re back. The cruise is bringing you back here in…what is it, two weeks?”
“Right, dear. We’ll see you then.” Viola’s tone had changed. Jasmine raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t press further. She would find out soon enough if there was something on her grandmother’s mind.