20% Chance of Rain:

The months passed. Jim and I were slowly getting close. Many people stared at us at school. I still didn’t like it. Your grandfather didn’t mind. Typical. At one point, I began to think I was only bragging rights to him. His friends always knew everything about me and us. I tried to ignore it, but soon, I couldn’t take it anymore. I began considering separating myself from your grandfather. Unfortunately, that was easier in notion than in action. Plus, that boy wouldn’t let me do so.

I learned that on my seventeenth birthday. I was born on December 21st, 1966. December was always my month, Frida. Momma and Daddy spoiled me on the week of Christmas. ’83 was going to be the same as every year. That’s how it started out at least.

That Wednesday morning started out as predicted. I got up and had breakfast with my parents. Momma served me Texas toast, sausage rolls, and chocolate chip pancakes with a tall glass of milk. My mama presented the plate to me like I was the queen of the day.

“Here you go honey,” she said. “Just the way you like it.” I squealed aloud in delight.

“Thanks momma!” I said. She smiled as I dug in. I just loved her cooking so much. (Daddy only worked the grill. I guess that counted.) As I was finishing my birthday breakfast, I heard the doorbell ring. Daddy looked up from his grits.

“Pumpkin,” he said to me. “Who is that at the door?” I looked up after he asked that.

“Hm?” I asked with food in my mouth. It took a moment for it all to sink in. I began to suspect who was at the door. I quickly became nervous.

“Uh… I don’t know!” I lied. “I’ll go see who it is!” I quickly got up from the table and raced to the door. I peeked out through the peep hole. And sure enough, your grandfather stood on the other side, smiling and waving at me. I kid you not when I say this: I honestly wanted to kill that boy at that moment. I opened the door a crack.

“What?” I hissed at him in a low voice. Your grandfather grinned at me still.

“Happy birthday, Star Girl!” he shouted. I rolled my eyes. Could he have said that any louder? I believed everyone in New Jersey heard him!

“Shhh!” I whispered. “My parents are at the kitchen table right now!”

Your grandfather shrugged at me, “So?”

“What do you want, Jim?” He yanked me outside.

“Whoa!” I cried. “What are you doing?”

“Come walk with me!” he said without missing a pulse. I stared at him blankly.

“Huh?” I asked. Jim stared deep into my green eyes.

“Come. Out. With. Me,” he said, slower.

“Why?”

Your grandfather shrugged at me, “Cause.”

“Cause why?”

“It’s your birthday. So what do you say?” I looked back into my house. My parents sat at the table waiting for me. I slowly turned back to Jim. Your grandfather was giving me that rascal look normally did when he wanted something from me. Oh, he made me so mad at times. I just wanted to punch him sometimes.

Needless at say, I went in to get my winter gear.

“Bye momma, daddy!” I called as I headed out the front door. “I’m going out with a friend!”

“Okay!” they replied. Funny they didn’t think much about it at the time. They usually want to know everything that I am doing. But, I didn’t think much about it at that moment. I just headed out the door with Jim. He grinned at me with that annoying grin.

“Ready to go?” he asked. I sighed aloud.

“Fine,” I grumbled. “If we must.” He took me by the hand and led me down the street.

The walk turned out rather pleasant. Cold, but pleasant. No one was in sight today. I slowly relaxed as I began to think that today would be one of those stress-free days with just your grandfather and me. Then, he had to go and ruin it again. We were in the park when this happened. Your grandfather, for no real reason what so ever, just stopped dead in his tracks. I looked up at him, confused.

“Jimmy,” I said. “What’s wrong?” He didn’t even look at me at first.

“Star Love,” he spoke up. “Why do you always give my friends that sneer?” I blinked at him once.

“Huh? I do not!”

“Yes, you do!” I began to sneer at him. He pointed at my face.

“See?” he asked. “There it is again!” I sighed at him in anger.

“Why do you have tell your friends about us all the time?” I asked. “Am I just a bragging right to you?” Now, your grandfather was the angry one.

“Can’t I talk about us because I’m proud to be your boyfriend?” he roared. I blinked at him again.

“What?” Jim shook his head at me.

“You really are a mess with my head!”

“How do you think I feel?” We both went silent. Then, Jim kissed me on the lips. I was more than happy to kiss back. I then realized the fights were the best part of the relationships. Jim had given me the best birthday present that year. Conflict mixed with passion.

1983