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Gram was old but that didn’t make her any less glamorous.
I’d never seen her without a face full of perfect makeup, expertly coiffed hair, and a flattering designer dress wrapped around her still trim figure.
She lived in a nowhere town now, and it was the town she’d been raised it, but she hadn’t always lived here and it showed in every sophisticated flick of her wrist.
In her heyday, as she’d say, she’d been an actress on the silver screen. For nearly a decade, she’d reigned supreme as the undisputed Queen of Hollywood.
She’d lived a life that people had written books about. Many, many books.
I read every one I could get my hands on. Every time I’d finish one, I’d start badgering her about what was true and what wasn’t.
It tickled her when I did this. She was a passionate storyteller, and she loved to reminisce about the good old days.
The books never got it right. There were always some important pieces of her many escapades that they left out, and the way they portrayed her was always off. They liked to make her into either a ruthless femme fatale or a clueless starlet, a caricature of a woman, when she was not that. Gram was complex, her personality rich in delightful contradictions.
I worshipped her.
I’d just finished the latest biography on her glory years, and I had a million questions for her.
This one had been much different from the others I’d read. Instead of focusing on her movie career or the set dramas she’d been involved in, this one was all about her love life.
We were in one of the sitting rooms in her fancy mansion of a house. She was serving me tea, a habit she said she’d picked up when she was shooting a film in England decades ago because it added structure to her day.
I studied her. I’d read a lot of things, but I hadn’t quite believed them and it was an embarrassing subject to bring up, so I’d never asked. “You had boyfriends before you met Grandpa?” I asked it as if he had been my grandfather. I’d taken to doing this because Gram seemed to expect it of me, but I only did it with Gram and Dante. The rest of their family was much less welcoming.
She threw back her head and laughed.
I smiled with her. She had one of those of laughs, it was a tinkling, delightful thing, and it brought joy to a room.
“Oh yes, dear girl, I had boyfriends before I met Grandpa.”
My eyes widened. I hadn’t quite believed it when I’d read it. “H-how many boyfriends did you have?”
She laughed some more. “I was a wicked, wicked woman,” she drawled.
“Gram!” Dante protested.
She nudged me playfully and nodded her head toward her grandson. I glanced at him. He was across the room, sprawled out on a couch, eyes closed, but he wasn’t sleeping. He was listening to us, and occasionally he’d add something into the conversation.
“Look at the power you have over him, Scarlett,” said Gram conspiratorially, but loud enough for him to hear. “He’s heard all of my stories a hundred times, but he’ll listen to them all again if it means being in the same room with you. Not even fourteen and you’ve already brought him to heel.”
“Gram! Gram!” We both protested.
“And look at her, dear boy,” she called out to him. “Here is a girl that will adore you the way you deserve to be adored,” she told him. “Treat that like the precious thing it is.”
She looked back and forth between our blushing faces. “Don’t fight it, my lovely children. It’s a beautiful thing. Love will make your life worthwhile. It’s the most powerful force on earth. Let it rule you and you won’t be sorry.”
Dante was sitting up now, eyes open and trained on his wicked grandmother.
She smiled at him fondly. “Your grandfather’s love saved my soul. All I want is for you to love and be loved in the way you deserve, and I’m green with envy that you found it so early in your life.”
“What happened to Grandfather?” I asked her, changing the subject, but I was curious. I’d never been told how he’d died. I’d always wondered but they never talked about it.
“Cancer, dear. Dreadful thing. I didn’t have enough time with him, but then a lifetime wouldn’t have been enough, I think.”
She looked sad for a long moment, heart-wrenchingly so, but then seemed to shake it off. “You should try acting, my dear. Your face was made to be onscreen.
