Page 12
Story: Better Than Revenge
“Just okay today.”
“Where is Jensen?” Grandma loved Jensen. He always told her how beautiful she was and would often sneak her little chocolate treats because my mom limited her sugar intake. She would recount old movies to him, and he would tell her about the comic books he’d read as a child. I did not want to tell Grandma her boyfriend broke up with us. Well, I broke up with him, but he pretty much made the decision the second he walked into that studio to steal my dream.
But I needed to just get it over with. “We broke up, Grandma.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s a long story. I guess I didn’t know him very well.”
She clucked her tongue in disappointment but aside from that was calmer than I expected her to be. “That’s too bad. I wanted to show him my nails.” She held up her hand. “Betsy did them.” Betsy was her nurse.
“You can showmeyour nails.”
“Iamshowing you.”
I laughed. “You are. They’re pretty.”
“I know,” she said.
“Are you up for an interview?” I had started a podcast about six months ago calledIt’s About Uswhere I interviewed my grandma about her life. Next to nobody listened to it, but it was good to get her stories down while she remembered them. And it was good practice for me. It’s what ultimately gave me the idea for my audition. An idea that had obviously done nothing for me.
“Not today, honey. Is that okay?” She lowered herself into a chair by the window.
“Of course.” I wasn’t exactly up for the reminder of my failure either. “Can I get you anything?”
“My book.” She pointed to her nightstand, where books were stacked.
Her room was relatively clean, but there were also things from when she lived in her own house scattered throughout: an old clock that chimed every hour; Styrofoam faceless heads holding her wigs, which she rarely wore anymore; stacks of old magazines that she refused to throw away and would often flip through; a basket full of oils and balms that she rubbed on her knuckles every night to help with her aching joints. It wasn’t a lot, though.
About five years ago, Grandma started a fire in her house after forgetting about a pan of hot oil she’d left on the stove. She ended up losing almost everything in that fire, including her ability to live by herself.
I plucked the top book off the stack and handed it to her. “What’s it about?” I asked.
“Love,” she said wistfully. “Like the best ones always are.”
My grandpa had died over ten years ago. Most of the time she remembered that. Sometimes she didn’t. On both sides of the memory fence, my grandma was still a hopeless romantic. Another reason I wasn’t going to tell her about the jilted tale of revenge I was now embarking on.
I left Grandma reading in her chair and made my way to the kitchen, where my mom was loading the dishwasher.
“She is in her room safe and reading,” I said.
“Good. Thank you.” She added a plate to the bottom rack of the dishwasher. “How did your audition go?”
“I made it onto the team as one of the research specialists.” I tried to say it with as much excitement in my voice as I could, but it was a poor showing.
She turned off the faucet and faced me. Her hands were dripping water down to her elbows, then onto the floor. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”
I shrugged, a lump suddenly in my throat. “What can I say? They only want me for my brains, I guess.”
“Good thing you have your own podcast,” she said.
I let out a fake laugh. “My podcast that has two consistent listeners? One of them beingyou.No way I’m going to get that internship now.”
“Not with that attitude,” she teased.
What other attitude was there? I’d worked toward this for years, and now I was facing reality. I didn’t get what I wanted. The host spot directly led to the internship at the community college. It was just a fact. It had for as long as both programs had been in existence. And that internship spot often led to the UC hosting spot. Jensen had more than derailed my senior year today. He’d derailed my future. “It’s been a day, Mom. Can I just whine about it for a little bit before you expect me to save the world?”
She shook her head, a guilty look coming onto her face. “I’m sorry. Of course. Whine away.” She winked. “Then save the world.”
“Where is Jensen?” Grandma loved Jensen. He always told her how beautiful she was and would often sneak her little chocolate treats because my mom limited her sugar intake. She would recount old movies to him, and he would tell her about the comic books he’d read as a child. I did not want to tell Grandma her boyfriend broke up with us. Well, I broke up with him, but he pretty much made the decision the second he walked into that studio to steal my dream.
But I needed to just get it over with. “We broke up, Grandma.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s a long story. I guess I didn’t know him very well.”
She clucked her tongue in disappointment but aside from that was calmer than I expected her to be. “That’s too bad. I wanted to show him my nails.” She held up her hand. “Betsy did them.” Betsy was her nurse.
“You can showmeyour nails.”
“Iamshowing you.”
I laughed. “You are. They’re pretty.”
“I know,” she said.
“Are you up for an interview?” I had started a podcast about six months ago calledIt’s About Uswhere I interviewed my grandma about her life. Next to nobody listened to it, but it was good to get her stories down while she remembered them. And it was good practice for me. It’s what ultimately gave me the idea for my audition. An idea that had obviously done nothing for me.
“Not today, honey. Is that okay?” She lowered herself into a chair by the window.
“Of course.” I wasn’t exactly up for the reminder of my failure either. “Can I get you anything?”
“My book.” She pointed to her nightstand, where books were stacked.
Her room was relatively clean, but there were also things from when she lived in her own house scattered throughout: an old clock that chimed every hour; Styrofoam faceless heads holding her wigs, which she rarely wore anymore; stacks of old magazines that she refused to throw away and would often flip through; a basket full of oils and balms that she rubbed on her knuckles every night to help with her aching joints. It wasn’t a lot, though.
About five years ago, Grandma started a fire in her house after forgetting about a pan of hot oil she’d left on the stove. She ended up losing almost everything in that fire, including her ability to live by herself.
I plucked the top book off the stack and handed it to her. “What’s it about?” I asked.
“Love,” she said wistfully. “Like the best ones always are.”
My grandpa had died over ten years ago. Most of the time she remembered that. Sometimes she didn’t. On both sides of the memory fence, my grandma was still a hopeless romantic. Another reason I wasn’t going to tell her about the jilted tale of revenge I was now embarking on.
I left Grandma reading in her chair and made my way to the kitchen, where my mom was loading the dishwasher.
“She is in her room safe and reading,” I said.
“Good. Thank you.” She added a plate to the bottom rack of the dishwasher. “How did your audition go?”
“I made it onto the team as one of the research specialists.” I tried to say it with as much excitement in my voice as I could, but it was a poor showing.
She turned off the faucet and faced me. Her hands were dripping water down to her elbows, then onto the floor. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”
I shrugged, a lump suddenly in my throat. “What can I say? They only want me for my brains, I guess.”
“Good thing you have your own podcast,” she said.
I let out a fake laugh. “My podcast that has two consistent listeners? One of them beingyou.No way I’m going to get that internship now.”
“Not with that attitude,” she teased.
What other attitude was there? I’d worked toward this for years, and now I was facing reality. I didn’t get what I wanted. The host spot directly led to the internship at the community college. It was just a fact. It had for as long as both programs had been in existence. And that internship spot often led to the UC hosting spot. Jensen had more than derailed my senior year today. He’d derailed my future. “It’s been a day, Mom. Can I just whine about it for a little bit before you expect me to save the world?”
She shook her head, a guilty look coming onto her face. “I’m sorry. Of course. Whine away.” She winked. “Then save the world.”
Table of Contents
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