My mom, Rebecca, and Grace, were sitting outside in the screened porch area, with a small fan pointed at them to guard against the sweltering heat. Despite the air conditioning, the sliding door that separated the porch and the kitchen was opened slightly. I could hear everything they said as Shiloh and I mixed flour, sugar and butter, and debated the age-old question of chocolate versus peanut butter chips. Eventually, we made the sensible decision to include both.
It was surprising to me that Grace made the effort to sit down and have conversations with Rebecca, given how much she disliked her. I never stopped being impressed by Grace’s civility and, well, grace. She was named appropriately, I chuckled.
“I was catching up with Janice Peterson. It sounds like Adam’s construction company is really taking off,” I heard Rebecca say. I knew Adam vaguely from school, and rolled my eyes. I immediately knew where Rebecca was going with this.
“That’s so good for him,” Mom said. “I know he’s been working hard to get it started.”
“You know,” Rebecca stage-whispered. I was about ninety-nine percent certain she knew I could hear her. “I think he would be an excellent match for Arya.”
There it was.
“Mmm,” Mom muttered, noncommittally. “I don’t think Arya is currently looking to be matched with anyone.”
Rebecca scoffed.
“She’s not getting any younger. And we all have seen how her past relationships have worked out. Sometimes us old biddies have to look out for the younger ones,” Rebecca said. I was starting to see red. This conversation shouldn't be happening at all. “Besides, sometimes it’s when you’re not looking that you find your person. That’s how I met Stephen.”
“A long relationship is different from a healthy relationship.” Grace’s voice was ice cold and I threw my battered hand against my mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. Took me a second to pull the batter out of my hair. Shiloh laughed at me.
Shiloh was standing next to me, singing to herself, meticulously adding chocolate and peanut butter chips to each cookie, completely unaware of how unhinged her grandmother was.
“I’m a firm believer in true love,” Rebecca said. I couldn’t stop the snort that escaped from me, and Shiloh looked up at me, curiously. Then fell into a fit of giggles. I could still just barely make out Rebecca’s words over the giggles. “Look at Tristan and Regina. They’ve had their rough patch, but they’ll spend time as a family next week and remember what they had. I just know it. They’re going to figure out a way to work things out.”
This lady was really something. She seemed to truly believe her own lies, no matter what Tristan–or Regina–told her.
“Is that so?” Grace asked. She sounded like she didn’t believe a word coming out Rebecca’s perfectly lined and painted mouth.
“Yes, I talked to Regina about myself.”
Uh huh, sure you did, Rebecca.
“That’s lovely,” Mom said. “You must be so excited.”
My mom masked it well, but I could hear the irritation in her voice. Why was she even friendly with Rebecca?
“It’s only right that Shiloh grows up with both of her parents. It’s a terrible thing for a child to only have one parent at a time.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant that to sound as cruel toward my mom as it did. Mom certainly didn’t have a choice in being a single mom, and we would all give anything to have my dad back. But my mom had been wonderful and despite the circumstances, Mason and I were no worse off from only having her.
“I'm sorry to say it, but Tristan and Regina weren’t good together,” Grace chimed in.
“They can work their issues out,” Rebecca said, as she waved her arm, dismissing her. “The two clearly still love each other and care about each other. That’s enough to work out the problems in their marriage.”
I knew not to believe Rebecca. She was obsessed with herself and with her family. But the words still dug in and wormed their way into my brain.
What if she wasn’t wrong?
What if, when Tristan and Regina saw each other and spent time together, they realized theydidwant to work things out?
Crazier things have happened in this world.
I placed the pan of cookies in the pre-heated oven and Shiloh and I started cleaning the kitchen. When the timer went off, the kitchen was sparkling clean.
“Okay, Shiloh. These should just cool off for a while and then we can try them. But they look amazing,” I said, giving her a high five. “You did a great job. You’ll be a master baker in no time. Maybe you'll have to open your own bakery shop in New York!”
“Oh! Maybe you can work for me!” she said as she giggled. She hopped down from her stool and gave me a big hug. “Thank you for helping me, Arya. Can I play outside?”
“Of course, I’m just going to move these cookies to a cooling rack in a few minutes, and then I’ll come outside and join you.”