“I really wanted some fried green tomatoes, but they didn’t have any in yet. Nothing better than a garden-grown tomato.”
They sat across from each other, each with a plate full of food.
“They’ll be ready soon. Summer’s going to be in full swing soon. Damn, these beans are great.”
Grammy nodded her approval. “Pretty good if I do say so myself. So, how’s work been?”
“Pretty good. We had to replace a good portion of the engine in one of the trucks this week. I didn’t think it was ever going to start running again.”
“Why don’t they take it to a real mechanic?”
Matty frowned. “Al is a real mechanic. I helped him with it. He’s not the most limber anymore, so I did a lot of the grunt work.”
“If he was a real mechanic, then he’d be at a shop. Not fixing toilets and replacing lightbulbs.”
“Grams, that’s my job.”
She tilted her head, the lines etched on her face deepening. “I know that, honey. And for you, that’s a good job.”
“I don’t understand. The last time I was here, you said that I didn’t need a better job, but now you’re implying it’s not good enough for other people but is for me. Like I’m not worthy of something better?”
“Don’t be silly. I just mean someone with a trade, like a real mechanic, would have the schooling. Not just someone that’s pretty good at fixing things.”
Matty’s appetite diminished. She let her fork drop onto the plate.
“That’s not cool, Grams.”
“Don’t make this into a big deal. Ever since you got caught up in this rehab thing, you’ve changed. Used to a paycheck being good enough. Now you’ve gotten where things aren’t good enough. Will you get me the pepper shaker, baby? My back’s killing me.”
Matty pushed down the anger and hurt as she went to retrieve the shaker from the back of the stove.
The longer she was away from Grams, the more she realized just how much she would never change. Everything was settled for. She settled for the life she had and, in turn expected those around her to also follow that path. There was no diverting from it. If someone tried, she’d gaslight them.
When she agreed to come over, she thought that perhaps Grams would have softened to the idea of her advancing her career. She had been excited to tell her that she had taken the practice test for math and science and passed. But not anymore. Not now.
“I was thinking, for the Fourth of July, why don’t we have a cookout? Invite the family. Have a good time.”
Her mind immediately went to the last Fourth of July she had attended a few years ago. She could remember the first few hours and then nothing after that until she woke up the next afternoon. Fourth of July with her extended family guaranteed grilled hot dogs, beer, and pot, and it only rolled downhill from there. It would be loud and fun in the moment and land her ass right back at square one.
“I don’t suppose we could make it alcohol- and drug-free?”
Granny snorted, taking the shaker from her. “You really think your uncle Rick will grill out without beer?”
“He would if you asked him to.”
She took her seat once again but didn’t eat anymore. Instead, she pushed the bits of food around the plate. The nostalgia of Grams’s home-cooked food was completely gone.
“I can’t change everything just for one person.”
“Right.” A jolt of pain went through her chest. Dismissed once again. No thought to how it made her feel. She opened her mouth and then closed it. There was no point in arguing.
“Did I tell you about Francis Miller’s daughter from church? She’s pregnant withtriplets.”
“No, you didn’t.”
She let her grandmother gossip, learning all about the latest updates of people she didn’t know nor really cared about. It seemed to make her happy and got them away from the topic of the party.
Matty insisted that Grammy stay seated while she cleaned up the dishes and put the leftovers away. Grams tried to make her take a plate, but she gently refused. It would just leave a bad taste in her mouth.
