“Grandma?”
“Wynter, honey, is that you?”
“Yeah.”
“How are you, honey? Are you in town? Can I see you? Where are you?” she fired questions at me.
“Grandma, slow down. What are you and grandpa doing for lunch?”
“I was going to make fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Would you like to come?”
“Well, do you have room for two more?”
“Do you finely get to meet the elusive John?”
“Yes,” I laughed.
“Of course we have room for you both, but your mom is going to be here.”
“That’s okay, she should meet John too, but grams I should warn you. John is a bit older than I am.”
“I know.”
“No, I mean quite a bit older.”
“I don’t care honey, as long as you’re happy.”
“I am, grandma. I’m so happy.”
“Good. So you’ll be here at 11:30?”
“Yeah.”
“I expect to hear all about school.”
“I know.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” I hung up the phone and pulled my kimono tighter around me. It was already ten o’clock; if he was going to shower and be ready in time, I had to wake him. I let the silk slide from my body and fall to the floor at the end of the bed. I crawled across the bed to John.
“John, wake up sweetheart,” I whispered soothingly, while caressing his cheek. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. I leaned over and kissed him. Suddenly he grabbed me and rolled over. “Good morning, sunshine.”
“Good morning.” He pressed his lips to mine and slowly slipped his tongue into my mouth. I pushed him off of me.
“Not right now, baby. We have somewhere to go.”
“Oh and where is that?” He started sucking on my earlobe.
“Mmm, um, we’re going to, um,” I sighed deeply, “to meet my family.” John stopped suddenly and looked up at me.
“To meet your family?” He rolled over and looked up at the ceiling. I sat on top of John and put my hands on his chest.
“Oh don’t sound so scared. My mom is the only one we need to worry about and she’ll be on her best behavior in front of you.” He looked up at me with his big, blue eyes and pouted. “Don’t worry, you’ll do just fine. Now get up and take a shower.” He grabbed me by the hips and tossed me onto the bed next to him. I heard the shower start and I smiled. I got up off the bed and pulled off my nightshirt.
I slipped into the bathroom quietly and stepped into the shower behind John. I put my hands on his shoulders and began to rub.
“I was wrong, we have time for a little tension reliever?” He turned around and kissed me, lifting my legs up around his waist.
“Feel better?” I asked as we dried off after our “shower.”
“I’m still a little nervous.”
“It’ll be all right.” We both finished getting ready, but as I searched for the presents John sat on the bed looking at his shoe.
“Honey, the shoe isn‘t going to put itself on.”
“So do you really think they’ll like me?”
“They’ll love you. How could they not? Now come on, it takes thirty minutes to get there and when grandma says 11:30, she means 11:00.” I found the presents and John put on his other shoe. We went down to our rented car and took off up the highway. I was beginning to have second doubts as I drove, so I decided that I should tell John what to expect. “Okay, we’re going to my grandparents’ house, so we’ll be on safer ground than we would be at mom’s. She will be there though, and even grandma can’t stop her from starting a fight.”
“You make your mother sound like a complete nut.”
“She’s an alcoholic, John. I know you can understand that,” and I wasn’t just talking about his dad.
“Of course I understand, everything will go fine,” John said soothingly. He took my hand off the steering wheel and squeezed it.
“Thank you. You really are the best, you know that?”
“I know I am.” I parked the car in the visitor’s parking lot. My mom’s car was no where to be seen. She’d probably be late, she usually was.
“My mom will probably be late.”
“Okay.” I took John’s hand and walked up to the back door of their trailer. It had been my second home for as long as I could remember. I opened the back door and put the gifts on the washing machine.
“Grandma? Grandpa?” I called, as I led John down the hall to the living room.
“Wynter, honey,” grandpa met me at the end of the hall. I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi, grandpa. Grandpa, this is John.” I pulled John forward. “John, this is my grandpa, Maurice.”
“Nice to meet you, John,” grandpa offered John his hand.
“Nice to meet you too.” John took his hand and gave him a firm handshake.
“Wynter,” grandma grabbed me and hugged me.
“Hi grandma.” She let me go and turned to John.
“And who is this handsome gentleman over here?”
“Grandma, this is John. John this is my grandma, Sarah.”
I went into the kitchen. John and grandpa sat down and just looked at each other. I reached over grandma to get two glasses.
“You did tell grandpa about the age difference, didn’t you?” I whispered.
“Yes, dear.” I smiled and went to the refrigerator for a Diet Coke. I opened the can and poured half of it into each glass. I went back into the living room and handed John a glass.
“I’ll be right back,” I whispered to John and winked at him. I walked back to the washing machine and picked up the two neatly wrapped gifts. I walked back into the living room.
“Grandma, come here for a minute.” She came into the room, wiping her hands off on her apron.
“What, honey?”
“Here,” I handed a box to grandma and another to grandpa. “Open them.”
“Wynter, you shouldn’t,” grandma began to scold.
“Just open them.” They pulled the paper off slowly, carefully, I got antsy just watching them. I was having flashbacks to all those days spent waiting for Christmas. Finally, grandma pulled out a book about the history of Broadway musicals and grandpa had a book about French Impressionism. These were the gifts they had shared with me, they had given me culture. Grandpa loved art and grandma loved theatre, especially musicals.
“Oh honey, thanks,” grandpa said flipping through the pages.
“Keep looking, there’s more.” I had gotten them each a NYU sweatshirt from the school bookstore.
“Thank you,” grandma said, holding up the sweatshirt.
“Try them on, make sure they fit.”
“Not now, honey, I just heard a car and it’s probably your mom.”
“But that makes her on time.”
“I know.” I went over and sat down next to John on the couch. I wasn’t sure what was about to happen, I hadn’t seen my mom in a year. I had spent Thanksgiving, Christmas and Spring Break with John. John must have sensed my fear, because he took my hand and squeezed it. I looked up at him and he smiled, that was all it took. I instantly felt better. I heard the backdoor open and the footsteps move closer. I breathed in deeply and held John’s hand tighter.
“Ma, I’m not late, am I? Why is it so quiet in here?” mom said as she walked into the room.
“Hello dear, you’re not late.” Mom walked right past John and me. My chest tightened and I squeezed John’s hand even harder.
“Hi mom,” I said slowly, trying not to stutter. Mom turned around quickly and stared at me wide eyed.
“Wynter, baby, I didn’t even know you were in town. Who is this?” I just sat there staring at her. “Baby, come here. Give me a hug, I haven’t seen you in a year.”
“Hi mom,” I said slowly, again,
“Wynter, who is this?” she said slowly, as if she was speaking to someone who just learned English.
“Mom, this is John. You’ve kind of met before but not really. John, this is my mom, Ruby.”
“Nice to meet you, John.” My mom almost seemed sincere, now I didn’t know what to think.
“Nice to meet you, Ruby.”
“So ma, what can I do to help with lunch?” Mom and grandma went into the kitchen.
“Grandpa, I’m going to show John your paintings.”
“Okay honey.” I stood up and pulled John up behind me. We walked back outside and into the shop behind their house. I pushed the door closed behind us and breathed in deeply.
“Are you okay?” John asked, brushing his hand down my cheek.
“I think so, I’m just really confused.”
“About what?”
“My mom is acting so strange. In 19 years I have never known her to act like this.”
“Like what?”
“She’s so calm, so together. She showed up on time and she’s not acting drunk. Her eyes are clear, her skin isn’t flushed. I don’t understand.”
“Maybe she stopped drinking.”
“It’s just so strange. I don’t know what to expect.”
“Everything is going to be fine, Wynter.”
“Thanks, baby.” He pulled me to him and kissed me.
“Come on, they’re going to wonder what happened to us.” He grabbed my hand and led me back into the house. Mom and grandma already had the table set and lunch put out.
“Come on you two, lunch is ready,” grandma chimed. John and I sat down next to each other and grandma started passing food around the table. The conversation was light as we ate our lunch. My spirits were lifted by the ease at which John related to my family. I should have known that in my family no one stays happy for too long. Grandma brought out dessert and mom asked if she could see me in the other room. We went back to the small bedroom I used to sleep in when I spent the night. Mom sat down on the bed, but I went over to the mirror above the dressed. When I looked in the mirror I didn’t see me now, I saw me at age nine. I had red lipstick on and I was sweeping brown eyeshadow across my eyelid. I looked so happy, mom must have been somewhere far, far away.
“Wynter, honey, come and sit by me,” mom said, patting the bed next to her.
“I’m fine where I am,” I said defiantly, pulling myself up onto the dresser. I still couldn’t talk to her without copping an attitude.
“Okay.” She looked down and took a deep breath. “Wynter, I need to ask you something.”
“What?” I crossed my arms over my chest, see there it is again. Next thing you know I’ll throw myself on the floor and start screaming and pounding my fists.
“Well, um, I joined this program, it’s, um, Alcoholics Anonymous and they told me that I need to ask for forgiveness from all the people I hurt while I was drinking. So, Wynter, will you forgive me?”
“Forgive you?” she nodded. “Forgive you. How can I fucking forgive you, mom? I took eighteen years of your abuse and neglect. Eighteen years, and you suddenly decide to turn your life around and we’re all supposed to fall in line. Well, I can’t. I can’t forgive you for never being there for me just because you asked.” I was crying, I stopped and looked up at her. She was crying too. I jumped off the dresser and kneeled in front of her. “Don’t get me wrong, mom, I’m proud of you. I’m glad you’re getting help, but I’m going to need time.”
“I love you, Wynter.”
“I know.” I stood up and started to walk out of the room.
“Wynter,” I stopped at the door. “He’s really great. I’m glad you’re happy.” I smiled to myself and walked out into the living room.
“Come on John, we should get going. Thanks for lunch, grandma.”
“So soon, honey?” grandma asked.
“Yeah, I think so.” We said our goodbyes and walked out to the car. Grandpa followed us out to the car and came over to my side.
“Honey, she really needs you to forgive her.”
“I know. Bye.” I pulled the car out of the driveway and drove away from the trailer. I drove through the all too familiar streets to my old home. I pulled into the driveway and got out of the car. I walked up to the garage door and leaned my forehead against it. There were so many demons within these walls, I could feel them pulling at me. It would be so easy to just give in, how would my mom escape? John got out of the car and went around to sit on the hood.
“What happened back there?” I turned around to face him.
“She joined AA and she asked me to forgive her.” I swallowed hard against the tears that were reforming.
“But you can’t.”
“No.”
“Because it takes more than a couple of minutes to forgive a life of abuse.”
“Exactly.” It was nice to have someone who understood. I walked to John and situated myself between his legs, leaning against his chest. He put his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. I could still feel the demons pulling on me, but John was stronger. John was so strong, stronger than me or anyone else I knew. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”
“Okay.”
I couldn’t help but feel a little sense of hope bubbling up inside of me. I really did hope that mom succeeded in her quest. It would be kind of nice to have a real mom for the first time in my life. I looked over at John. We shared a common bond in having an alcoholic parent and not having a father. I never had a dad and he never really knew his. John had a close relationship with his mother though. Sometimes I got jealous of him, at least he had his mom and his sisters; but then I remembered how he lost his mom and I felt bad. In the end I guess we were meant for each other, because we understood each other’s pain.