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Gram points a pea pod at me. “Start talking, young lady, and don’t leave out any details. I’ll know,” she warns.
And I know she will. Gram can smell a lie or omission a mile away. So I tell her—almost—everything, ignoring the fact that my mother is standing within earshot soaking up every juicy detail like a sponge. It’s a relief to get it off my chest, honestly, and I feel lighter for it once I’m finished.
“Three?” my mom whispers in disbelief. I hear the judgment in her tone and I avoid eye contact. I knew the nature of my engagement with Niles and his friends wouldn’t go over well, but I had to say something. When Gram wants something, she gets it. Plus, I’ve always found her to be an excellent sounding board and source of advice. She’s never judged me harshly, and she always stands by my side.
“That’s a doozy, Elle-belle.” Gram’s use of my nickname tells me she’s still on my side in this too, and I feel even better. Scratching her temple with a pod, she ponders everything I’ve told her. “On the one hand, I want to say that you did the right thing dropping their asses and coming home. I would have gotten on a plane just to come kick your ass if I had found out you weren’t visiting us this year over some hot tails. But…on the other hand, I also want to say that men are inherent idiots, your grandfather included, and they wouldn’t know their head from their ass. I lost count of how many dumb things your grandfather did and said before I finally decided that it was either him or the mailman, and trust me when I say inbreeding exists and that man was proof positive. So I chose your grandfather, and here we are, fifty-six years later. He’s still a box of rocks most days, but others…” She smiles fondly toward the empty doorway where I can hear my grandpa’s aged voice recanting the same story about a trip to Home Depot he had once that resulted in a police chase and a cheap cup of coffee the next day.
It’s clear she loves the man more than life itself.
“My point is, don’t judge their dumb asses too harshly. It sounds to me like they were only trying to steal as much time with you as possible, and in their greed, they didn’t think about what they were doing wrong.”
I snap a pea pod and spill the tiny peas inside into the giant bowl between us that’s almost filled to the brim and ready for cooking. “I see your point, Gram, and trust me when I say that I’ve considered that angle.” I shake my head. “I just don’t know though. The whole thing is already complicated with there being three of them, and then add to it that they can’t even consider my feelings on something that should have been obvious?” I just don’t know that I can look past such a glaring “mistake.”
“Elle-belle…” Gram reached across the table and stays my hands with one of her own. She meets my eyes, her gray-blue stare earnest. “What kind of woman do you want to be? One that judges harshly and misses out on all the fun life has to offer, or one that forgives and lives it to its fullest?”
My lips part but no words come forth. Is it really as simple as that?
“Three men, Mom,” my mom reminds her.
Gram cuts a swift hand through the air and scoffs. “Hells bells, Nancy, that’s nothin’. I had more gentlemen suiters than that in my lifetime. Some knew and some didn’t. Didn’t really matter a lick to any of us. It’s what’s in the heart and mind that counts.”
I look at my mom and see the total shock registered on her face. While Gram has always been a bit “out there,” I don’t think she knew as much about her mother as she does now, and it’s taking some time to digest.
“If it’s what others might think of you that’s really holding you back,” Gram continues, focusing the whole of her attention on me again, “then I suggest you put it right out of your head. You can’t live your life if you’re always worrying about what others are going to think.”
“But it’s societal rules that keep us civil,” I argue halfheartedly, and shuck another pod into the bowl.
“Society doesn’t know what it wants. All it does is make rules and then break them in the shadows. Live your life how you want to live it. No one else is going to do it for ya.”
Finally, her words hit home, and I sink into a still quiet as we finish preparing dinner and sit down to eat as a family.
I have a choice to make, and I can’t take it lightly. There’s too much on the line, and Gram is right: whatever I decide, I have to do it on my terms and in a way that’s going to make me happy at the end of the day.
