But What About Me? by Marilyn Reynolds

Author:Marilyn Reynolds
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: New Wind Publishing
Published: 2014-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter

12

Two days before the party we start cleaning and cooking. My gramma, my mom’s mom, comes to help with food. She’s the one I’m named after—Joan.

We’ll have beans and tamales, traditional Mexican stuff, and also ham and potato salad. My dad’s really into it. It must get boring in Germany without us. He eats in the officers’ dining room all the time, I guess, so when he gets home he wants to pig out on all his favorite foods.

I’d rather work outside with Dad and Kitty, than in the kitchen, so I start cultivating the flower beds. Dad’s all frustrated though, because the lawnmower stopped working when he was only half­way finished in the front yard.

Gramma comes out onto the porch. She’s wearing an apron that comes down past her knees, and her coarse gray hair is pulled back and held in check by a rubber band. She’s wearing my old slippers. My old slippers? I stand, stunned, knowing what was in the toes of those slippers.

“Check the gas,” she yells to my dad.

Dad gives her a look like, DUH!

“I did that,” he says. “Get back in the kitchen.”

They both laugh. She’s back out in an instant with a big spoonful of potato salad. “Taste this,” she says.

He puts it all in his mouth in one big bite. “Yum,” he says. “If I

wasn’t already married to your daughter, I’d ask you to marry me.” She smacks him on the shoulder, playfully, then goes back inside. I follow her, trying not to show I’m in a hurry, pretending I’m interested in what they’re doing in the kitchen.

Then I wander nonchalantly back to my bedroom, quietly closing the door behind me. I get down on my hands and knees to check for my slippers. Maybe Gramma has a pair just like mine. No. My slippers are gone. But there, on the floor where they used to be, are the two condoms I have left, and the can of foam. My heart beats fast and I feel all shaky.

Now what? I know for a fact my gramma thinks sex outside of marriage is a giant sin. My face is hot with embarrassment. Maybe I can spend the rest of my life hiding in my closet. But I guess not.

I take the condoms and foam, wrap them carefully in an old T-shirt, and stash the T-shirt in the bottom drawer of my chest, in the back, under a stack of other T-shirts. I’ve never seen my gramma wearing a T-shirt. It should be a safe hiding place.

I call Danny, dreading talking first to Mrs. Kendall, or Alex, or worst of all, Joey, but today Danny’s the one who answers.

“Danny?”

“What’s up. Pups?”

“Something terrible. My gramma’s walking around, wearing my

slippers.”

“So?”

“So. You know. My slippers! The ones I keep the condoms and foam hidden in. Lots of times when she’s here she borrows my shoes, but those were way in the back. What’ll I do?”

“Hey, don’t get all stressed out. She probably doesn’t even know what that stuff is,” Danny says.

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