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I take a deep breath and turn.
“Please don’t walk away.” Her aged voice stops me, cracking a little. “You remember me, don’t you?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering sitting at a kitchen island, the countertop dusted with flour. My grandma in her apron rolling out dough. Her hair was brown then, but she had the same wrinkles near her eyes.
The same my mom had in every picture I’ve ever seen of her.
“It took you long enough.”
Countless times I’ve seen her, watching from her car or showing up at school pickup. She would sit in the swing and watch me leave school and walk toward home. Lately, I’ve seen her on this street, just there. Behind her, I see her little silver car, headlights still on, plumes of smoke rising from the muffler.
“I’m not here with excuses. Your dad…” Her hand comes up to cover her mouth, fingers shaking. “I’m sorry,” she interrupts her own thought. “It has taken me long enough.”
I don’t know what to do. Or say. The thing about being isolated for so long is that I don’t know what to do in situations like this. I wish Cade was here. He’d probably introduce himself and she’d be grinning like a fool in no time, overcome by his charm.
But he doesn’t have the past we do.
I don’t know what happened, really. All I know is that my grandparents stopped spending time with me. I stopped spending the night at their house. They stopped picking me up from school. One day they wanted me, and the next, they didn’t.
“Your grandpa passed away earlier this year.”
My heart pinches. I only have early memories of him, too. A kind face, rough hands when my little fist was in his. There were trips to the park and help on the monkey bars.
“I’m…I’m sorry.”
I peek up at her, and a single tear runs down the topography of her face, like a map of her life. Every wrinkle a story. Every blemish a tale of a life lived.
“He wanted me to try again, and so I’ve been watching. Wondering if you remember me. Wondering if I’d have to re-introduce myself. Wondering if you might welcome me into your life. You’re in college now, and we’re both so proud.”
“Yeah, it’s hard…” I admit, trying to give her something but also not knowing what. Life would be so much easier if you could say what you wanted to say without fear of repercussions.
“And you have a boyfriend.”
My face blazes, and I hope she’s not been spying on me too hard. I don’t know what she might see when we’re together. “Cade,” I say because him? Him I can talk about. “He’s a football player for the team. Wide receiver. He’s really good.”
“Oh? Your grandpa liked football. Your dad, too.”
“Yeah. I’ve been working for the coach. Dad got me the job. Just an assistant, but it’s nice.”
“Yeah?” she asks, taking a tentative step closer. “You like it?”
I shrug. “It gets me out of the house and puts some money in my pocket.”
She steps into the streetlight, and my stomach flips. I was wrong before about a single tear. Her cheeks are all wet. She brings a gloved hand to her lips. “You’re so pretty. You look like your mama.”
I clamp my jaw shut, willing myself not to react. No one has said that to me in a very long time.
“Have you ever seen her senior picture? You two could be twins.”
I shake my head. I’m not sure if I have or not, but…that’s too difficult for me to process right now. “I’m sorry.”
“No. No, I’m sorry. I promised myself I wouldn’t talk about her if I ever got up the nerve to say something. You just looked sohappy walking to your house that I… Well, I thought you might be in a good mood to see me, too. Plus, your smile reminded me of your grandfather.”
It hits me then that she has no one. Mom was an only child, and if Grandpa died, it’s just been her. How many times have I thought how alone I was? Even when Dad is around, it doesn’t feel like it. The most we’ve talked was the other day, and that quickly got ruined when I decided for one night that I was going to live my life the way I wanted. That Cade was more important.
I don’t think I knew that was the decision I was making in that moment. Choosing between Cade and Dad, but that’s what it turned out to be. I might’ve felt more guilty if he hadn’t called me that name out of anger.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” she asks, motioning toward the sidewalk in front of her.