It was about all I understood of what they said. Those girls knew bigger words than a dictionary. But I had to say, I was proud of Whitney for using as many contractions as she could between her ridiculously complicated words. So maybe she still had to look at her notebook from time to time to remind herself of some of the phrases we had written down together after Jonah had left her in my care this morning, but it was progress.
Her notebook was filled with sentences like:
Isn’t that funny?
I can’t wait for recess.
What’s your favorite food?
I’m so excited for math. I didn’t help her with that catch phrase. I wasn’t sure how many points that would score with her classmates, but she insisted she needed a friend who liked math as much as she did. I wasn’t sure that person existed.
I was thankful Tabitha didn’t mind at all that Whitney would halt their conversation to write down new phrases with contractions to use. Tabitha even helped her come up with some. Girls like Tabitha would make this world a better place; we needed more inclusive people like her.
Grandma set down the pair of flat pliers she was using to help break the scored glass. “Dani called me this morning,” she whispered, though I wasn’t sure why. Whitney and Tabitha were far enough away and chatting nonstop, so they probably hadn’t heard a word we’d said. And Crystal, who ran the storefront for us, was not only busy with customers, but on the other side of the wall that divided the workshop/classroom area from where we sold our goods. Since we didn’t have any classes scheduled for today, we were virtually alone.
“Do you want me to whisper too?” I teased.
Grandma took the glass cutter out of my hand and set it next to the beautiful aqua-colored glass I had been cutting into flower petal shapes. She took my hand between her own and started patting it. I’m not going to lie, it kind of freaked me out. It wasn’t that Grandma wasn’t affectionate, but not like this, especially in the workshop. Normally we would have cranked up some Fleetwood Mac or Led Zeppelin and sung our hearts out, but I didn’t want to frighten Whitney. First, we would get her to master contractions, then sugar, then classic rock. Baby steps.
Then I noticed tears in Grandma’s unusual bronze eyes that were looking pale.
“What’s wrong? What did Dani tell you?” My mind began to race.
“She said you were going to therapy.”
I tried to pull my hand away—somewhat annoyed that Dani would divulge that without asking me for permission—but Grandma gripped tighter.
“It’s no big deal,” I responded, knowing it was a lie. But I didn’t want to make a fuss over it, and it had Grandma in tears. Or at least that’s why I assumed she was crying, but you know what assuming makes you—a big fat butt.
“Did you tell your therapist how awful your grandpa and I are?” she tossed out there.
I jumped back, shocked. “Why in the world would I tell her that?”
Grandma reached into her total mom jeans pocket and pulled out a tissue before dabbing her eyes with it. “Because we are terrible people. We should have put a stop to your mom’s madness and gotten custody of you. Your grandpa always said we would regret it, but,” she sniffled, “I told him you were resilient, and that Joanie was a good girl who was having a hard time and she needed you. I wanted to believe that so badly.” Her voice shook while she spoke.
I pulled away from her and grabbed a stool so she could sit down. I had never seen her so distraught, not even when my mom died. According to Grandpa, she’d mourned deeply but privately.
She sat while I grabbed another stool so I could sit next to her. This time I took her hand in my own. “Grandma, I’m okay. I survived.”
“You shouldn’t have had to survive. Why didn’t you tell us things were so bad when you visited?”
I shrugged. “I was scared, and I guess because in some twisted way I thought I was protecting Mom.” And I had been embarrassed. So embarrassed.
“She should have been protecting you.”
“I agree.”
“I know you’re still keeping things from us. I don’t blame you. I’m glad you’re talking to someone. You probably don’t trust Grandpa and me after we betrayed you like we did.”
“Don’t say that. You didn’t betray me. I know you were in a difficult position.”
“Don’t try and make me feel better. It was you in the difficult circumstance.” She paused. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. I sacrificed you so I could maintain a relationship with my daughter. I knew Joanie wasn’t telling us the truth. And for a while I thought I was right—you seemed to do so well when you moved back here. You had friends. You found love.”