Damn, that was young. I’d met her a couple times,though I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her. The distress on mygran’s face gave me a sick feelinginthe pit of mystomach.
“Man, I know high school is hard but that’s extreme,” said Travis.
“She was in a car accident the day before,” my gran said, still staring at the floor. “She was driving with a friend, and shedidn't see the light turnred.The car was hit on the passenger side and herfrienddiedon impact.”
I clutched my stomach feeling sick. We took somehorrificjobs, but that was truly terrible.Her mistake would haunt her forever, or it would have if she could have lived it.
“When are you going to redecorate the kitchen,gran?” I asked,deliberatelychanging the subject. “It looks like shit. Thewalls are dirty. You should put up some of that tchotchke crap you like,to cover it up.”
Mygran turned her attention back to me, the haunted look in her eye had disappeared now.“You are the one who looks like shit. Your bangs are sticking straight up, you look like a lunatic.”
“Seriouslygran,” I groaned. “The house is too empty. Not that I’m saying we should revisit your taxidermy phase full force.”
Iwasactuallyreadyfor her to splash a bunch of weird crap in the house. It had become my normal over the years.
Mygran continued to hobble around the kitchen. “I haven’t found anything that excites me yet.You can’t rush inspiration.Don’t worry, it’s coming. I can feel it in my bones.”
“The only thing you can feel in your bones is osteoporosis,” I said, hiding a smile as mygran whacked me on the arm as she hobbled by.
Shepausedto say, “Phillip was looking for you.Oh,be a dear and check in on Gregory, won’t you?”My gran gathered her pursefrom the corner of the kitchenand waved her hand about.“I don’t want to be late for naughty bingo. Ms. Streisand, our fabulous drag queen emcee, slips me the good cards when there is an especially good prize like one of those hot fireman calendars.”
“Of course, Mrs.Rits,” Travis said in his politest tone, unfazed by hereveningactivities. “And if it’s alright with you, I was planning on cooking dinner tonight.”
Mygranpatted his arm and said, “Yes dear, that would be wonderful. But if we could pass on the Mexican food, last time I got so gassy I nearly blew the ladies away on canasta night.” Then she reached up and pinched his cheek before tottering off.
I dropped my chin in my folded arms on the island.
“What?” Travis asked.
“Suck up,” I muttered into my arms.
“Well you could stand to cook and clean a little more around here,” hemutteredright back.
I sat up and spun around on the stool. “I’m not the one who doesn’t belong here. She’smygran. You are the houseguest. You are the one who should be groveling.”
He threw his hands in the air.“Then why do you have a problem with me cooking dinner? You know what? Forget it. I’m out of here.” He turned to go.
I tried my best not tofigure outwhy my heart dropped into my stomach.
What do you care if he stays? You should tell him to go. You don’t need him. You don’t need anyone.
“You promised mygranyou’d make her dinner,” I called out to him before he could get down the hall too far.
His footfalls stopped.
After a moment the old wood floors moaned as he reentered the kitchen. His face wastight,and his arms were pressed against his sides.He said in a reluctant tone,“You should use the shower first. I’m going to stock up the vanwithsome cleaning supplies in case we need them in the future.”
Traviswalked over to the sink,still sulking,and began rooting around in the cabinet underneath takingnoteof what was on hand.
Certainhe couldn’t seeme,I let out of sigh of relief and rubbed my forehead which was pounding now. He would never go back on a promise he made to my grandma, and I counted on that.
Out of the corner of my eye, a small but messy pile of letters covered the end of the island. All the envelopes were stamped in bright red warnings. I had tried many a time to activate any latent mind powers to make the pile catch fire, but I wasn’t the one with powers. I was a sidekick who didn’t know how to take care of herself, much less hergran, a former stoner, and her best friend’s catatonic father.
Travisstood, bottles in hand, andfollowed my gaze to the letters. “Don’t worry, we’ll get the money.”
Not liking the feelings roiling inside me, I gave him a curt nod.While I was freaking out about theeviction threats, Iwasalso trying to squashdowna differentfear. Despite my best to pound it down into oblivion, the secret was chewingup my insideslike a rabidPitbull. I couldn’t tell anyone, least of allTravis.
I followed Travis to the front of the houseandstarted up the stairs to the bathroomasTravis opened the front door.
