Page 62 of Someone Like Me
He nods, whether in acknowledgment or agreement, I can’t tell. Then he walks away. But before he’s out of the bay, he calls over his shoulder, shocking the hell out of me again. “Keep up the good work.”
I look back at the Versa, but it takes a moment of blinking and throat clearing before I can get on with it.
After the mounts are replaced and the ticket’s written up, I clock out. Evie said she had class in the morning, but her afternoon would be free. I don’t want her waiting on me, so I catch the 11:49 bus back home.
When I get there, I check on Grandma. She’s sitting in her easy chair in a sleeveless cotton nightgown. Anything tighter than a smock hurts, she says, so I’m making sure she has a clean one every day.
“How you doing, Grandma Q?”
She raises the remote and pauses what appears to be a soap opera. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her watch a soap opera.
“I,” she says with no shortage of dramatic flair, “do not like being sick.”
I stifle a laugh. She would not appreciate laughter. “No, Grandma, I’m sure you don’t.”
“I have watermelons to rotate, beds to till, and seeds to buy for my winter garden.” Her mouth is tight, and I can see her hands grip the arms of her chair. “No time for this at all.”
“I can do all of that. You just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”
Her answering sigh is one of exasperation, not relief. “Well, where’s the fun in that? That’s like seeing a picture of an ice cream cone when you could be eating one.”
This time, I can’t help it. I laugh, and I earn myself a stern look.
“Have you had lunch?” I ask, sobering as best I can. “I can fix you some of that chicken salad Aunt Shelly made.”
Seeming placated, Grandma nods. “That would be lovely.”
I fix sandwiches for the both of us. The plates look a little bare without a side, so I take a couple of apples from the crisper. At once, I’m back in my apartment, sitting across from Evie.
I’ll see her soon.
At the thought, liquid fire runs through my veins.
The ride in the car all the way to the DMV in Abbeville… the long wait… the ride back. After years thinking about it as punishment, time, I now realize, can feel like wealth.
With these thoughts buoying me, I carry the sandwiches and sliced apple into the living room, and I eat lunch with Grandma.
“How are things at the garage?” she asks before sinking her teeth into her sandwich.
I remember my near-miraculous conversation with Chip and the light feeling I have lifts a little higher. “Good.” I munch an apple slice. “Chip asked how you were doing.”
Grandma flattens her lips together. “Hmmph. He should come see for himself.”
I hide my grin with a bite of sandwich.
“Evie’s taking you to get your license today?” she asks, her voice layered with a kind of manufactured innocence.
I frown. “How do you knowthat?”Listening in on us when she was supposed to lying down, watchingEllenis one thing, but when Evie and I discussed going to the DMV, Grandma was in the throes of illness. “You couldn’t have been listening Friday night. You were almost delirious with pain.”
“Maybe, but Josephine wasn’t.” Grandma shrugs. “What can I say? Quincys have good ears.”
It’s official. I am done underestimating Grandma Quincy and her minions.
“And big mouths, apparently,” I mutter into my sandwich.
“I heard that,” she levels. “And you didn’t answer my question. Is she taking you today?”
Why bother avoiding the interrogation? Grandma will find out no matter what. “Yes, Grandma. Evie offered to take me today to renew my driver’s license.”
