Mom can turn situations around to suit herself so well her opponent would walk away blaming themselves for something she did. Mom’s whole mantra is do not admit to anything, listen more, talk less, and always with a blank expression. This way, the enemy will start doubting themselves halfway through the argument. She’s made dignitaries cry with that one.
It's something she’s been trying to teach me since I reached her knee, but it never really stuck because she seemingly forgot to give me a backbone during her period of gestation. But this stunt with Jess and Alexis is the last straw.
Cody started to speak as soon as we were alone in the other room, but I held up my hand for him to wait. “Give me one second, Cody. This won’t take too long.” He didn’t look too pleased but nodded his head and gave me space to make the call. That was good because I was about to become a whole other character that he hadn’t met as yet.
In this family, the drama is real. I think they saw too many Broadway shows when they were a thing; whatever. I just know that with each individual, I have a different character to play. With grandma, as the only grandchild and a granddaughter at that, the world is my oyster. I’ll be the first to admit she spoils me rotten and has been the source of many culturally shocking things in my young life.
I could be reciting Yeats with her one minute and belting out the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody while dressed like a hippie the next. She answered the phone, sounding out of breath from doing who knows what this time of night.
“Hello dear, you’ve caught me at an inopportune moment.”
“Why? What were you doing?”
“Estelle has us practicing our headstands.”
“Head….?” My left eye started to twitch.
Estelle is her yoga instructor and friend; she’s about ninety and learned from one of her many lovers on the orient about a thousand years ago. “Grandma, is the staff there with you?” I looked at my watch and quickly calculated the time difference.
If I told her not to do it, she’d just dig her heels in, and I didn’t call her for that anyway. It wouldn’t be the first time she broke something and went back to it as soon as she healed. I’ll let mom deal with that.
“Yes, of course, dear. Why wouldn’t they be? They live here.”
“Yes, I know; I meant, is anyone else in the room with you?”
“Estelle and the girls are here, of course.”
The girls are grandma’s friends from before she was out of diapers. There are five of them, seven all together with grandma and Estelle. I listened for any slurring because I was so preoccupied with my own dilemma I didn’t notice, but when the seven of them get together, it never ends well. It would serve grandpa right if he had to go bail them out of jail in the middle of the night again since he has so much free time to help his daughter meddle in my affairs.
“Oh, I see; you need privacy.” I rolled my eyes as she made her excuses to her friends and changed rooms. “Okay, dear, shoot. What did your mother do?”
“Grandma, did you know?”
“Know what, dear?” She knows! She knows a lot. I know that tone. If I had the time, I’d play around and find out what else she knew, but Blaire was in the other room, no doubt thinking up ways to keep me a virgin for the rest of my life. Joke’s on her!
“About Jess, that she’s a bodyguard. And so is my college roommate?”
“Yes, I knew. Why? Are you upset?”
“Yes!”
“Why? Do you not know who you are?”
“That’s not the point. Someone should’ve told me.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” You don’t sound sorry. Don’t sulk in front of Cody; it’s not a good look. And besides, she can’t see you anyway.
“They’re not there to impede you in any way, dear; it’s mostly for our peace of mind. It’s what old people like your grandpa and I do to safeguard those we find precious to us.” Not you, too old lady.
“Well, I find it an imposition. It’s an invasion of privacy.”
“Actually, their job is to keep you safe, not tattle on your every move. For instance, they might report on your young man, but they won’t spy on you two.”
“You know about Cody?” This could be good or bad. Good, because she never mentioned him, and bad, because she never mentioned him. If mom and dad have a dossier on him, grandma knows who his great-great somebody was.
“Of course.” That doesn’t tell me much, and she was sounding way more with it by the second.
“Grandma, I really, really like him.”
“I bet! He has Paul Newman’s eyes and Robert Redford’s smile.” Who the heck are these people? She sighed and giggled. Giggled. “A girl could do worse.”