When Life Gets in the Way

by Ines Vieira

  “What? Wait, I huh…” But before she can say anything else, I leave the bucket and mop behind and grab her hand to where my mom is.

  “Mom, this is Cassandra.” I’m smiling from the inside. Whatever has Cass all wound up, having me introduce her to my mother will get her mind away of whatever she’s thinking. No girl likes to be surprised like this. It might be a dickish move on my part, but at least, she’ll forget her worries for five minutes even if it is to be pissed at me. I continue to hold her hand just to add emphasis on her embarrassment. My mother sees this and can't help but put her finger to her lips to stop herself from smiling.

  Cass quickly shakes her hand off mine. I see her back straighten, and I know that the girl I met yesterday is back with a vengeance.

  “It’s Cass. Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Silva. I’m Jess’s friend.”

  “Only Jess’s?” I ask with an exaggerated shocked face. My mother lets out a small giggle and shakes Cass’s hand.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Cass. I hope that my Isaac isn’t giving you too much of a hard time.” My mother says teasingly.

  “Oh, nothing that I can't handle.” She looks at me with the same distasteful look she gave me yesterday in the school hallway and I can't help but offer her my crooked grin as a reply.

  “That’s good to hear. I’ll let you in on a little secret. My son is more bark then he is bite,” she says and winks at her. “Let me ring you up, dear.” My mother takes the pasta and pasta sauce from Cass’s hands and places them in a brown paper bag for her.

  “Does it have to be a paying job?” Cass asks me and I have no idea what she’s on about.

  “Huh?” She rolls her eyes at me.

  “The job that you’re looking for after school. Does it have to be a paying job?”

  “I guess not. Why?”

  “Well, I work three times a week, sometimes more, at the Plymouth Youth Center. We’re short on volunteers. Have you ever worked with kids before? Are you good with them?” She asks giving my mom a 10 dollar bill to pay for her groceries.

  “I’ve babysat before for my little cousins and none of them died or had to be taken to the hospital on my watch. Does that count?”

  “No, but it's something. You can come with me tomorrow afternoon after school to see if that would be something you’d be interested in if you want.”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Isaac. You’ve always liked children more than adults.” My mom says and I still hear the teasing in her soft voice.

  I cross my arms. Volunteering at some youth center was not what I had in mind. I’d prefer to be here at the store with my mother and uncle, but there was just so much I could do to help out. My uncle only really needed one extra pair of hands and couldn’t afford two. Even though he had already paid me and my cousins yesterday for helping him out with the new shipment of Thailand and Vietnamese goods, I knew that he couldn’t pay me every day. Maybe one, two tops.

  “I guess I could volunteer a few days a week and the other days help Uncle Carlos here at the store.”

  “Glad to hear it then. After school tomorrow, I’ll take you to see it. I’ll ask if you can help out with the 5th graders.” Cass offers a warm smile to my mother and thanks her. She starts to leave the store but I run after her.

  “Why the 5th graders? Are they short staffed with that particular age group?” I ask intrigued.

  “We’re short staffed in every age group. I just thought that you’d feel right at home with the other 10-year-olds.” She sneers and leaves me holding the door for her. Whatever baggage she was carrying before when she came in, she didn’t take with her. She did leave with a smile, though, I made sure of that. When I turned around I saw my mother staring at me with those knowing eyes of hers.

  “What Evelyn? What are you thinking?” I say grinning and walk behind her. I hug her waist and put my head on her shoulder.

  “That Cassandra is quite lovely isn't she?” I feel her smile next to me.

  “I guess.”

  “She seems quite involved in the community.” I let out a small sigh.

  “Yes, mom she does.” She kisses my forehead.

  “I think that she maybe a good influence on you Isaac. I truly liked the idea of you volunteering at this youth center. I think it may do you some good.” She turns around and places both hands on my face. “You have a big heart, Isaac. I think its time that the rest of the world sees that too. Not only your mom.” She whispers to me softly. I kiss her forehead.

  “I’ll go tomorrow and see what all the fuss is about. I promise I’ll give it a try” I see the sparkle in her beautiful eyes and I wish that I could make my mother this happy every day. She turns around to face the next customer that has arrived at the cash register and offers the elderly lady a smile.

  “Now since you’ll be busy the rest of the week, I think that you should go and see your grandma Irene while you can. I’ll tell your uncle not to count on you for the rest of the week. Including today. Go on now.”

  “Sure why not. Might as well get it over with.” She gives me an unpleased look but continues with what she was doing before I intervened. I clear away the mop and bucket and put it back in the broom closet. I get my jacket and wave goodbye to my mother.

  It was inevitable so no use in trying to delay it anymore. It's not that I didn’t like my grandmother Irene. I adored her. I just didn’t like lying to her. And the moment I set foot in her house I knew I would have to. She would ask about my father and all that crap, and I would have to say that everything was fine. The woman was a bullshit lie detector and even if I said that everything was alright, she would be able to see right through me. Even dear old dad knew that his visits to his mom had to be brief and seldom. My father feared no one. I have never seen my father afraid of anything or anyone in his life, except for his mother. That was the only person that could put the fear of god in him.

  Some people think that she’s a witch and has special abilities. My grandmother Irene has none of that. All she has is great intuition and a stare that would knock you on your ass. She is also one of the smartest people I know, even though she only attended school until she was nine. I truly believe that if my grandmother had been born here instead of Portugal, she would have done great things.

  Instead, she got married when she was only fifteen and raised a family of fourteen kids. Yep! Fourteen! My Uncle Carlos was lucky number thirteen. He was extremely sick when he was younger. My grandfather Joe thought that it was because they had thirteen kids, an unlucky number. My grandmother thought this notion was preposterous and that putting belief in a number was just as credible as putting belief on a black cat or a broken mirror. Nothing good would come out of believing in such nonsense. She would say that the reason Uncle Carlos was always so sick was due to poor nutrition as there were too many mouths to feed. But still she had one more even though they were barely making it by as it was. Guess who was number fourteen. That’s right. My father. My grandmother was right. Nothing good did come out of having him.

  With so many mouths to feed, my grandfather contacted some distant family members that were already in the States to help him find work and papers to enter the country. He took with him the eldest children that were already as they were old enough to work, leaving my grandmother behind with at least 10 children. After a few years, my grandmother came to America with another batch of kids. She left behind four of her kids, my dad and my Uncle Carlos included, with her parents until they could afford to send for them as well.

  That was the last time she ever set foot in Portugal. Not even to attend her parents’ funeral, either because at the time she couldn’t afford it, or because everyone here depended on her too damn much. When my grandfather died less than twenty years ago, the need to go back died with him. I never heard her complain, though, but I always thought that she wanted more out of the life that she had had. After her own children, came the grandchildren and then great-grandchildren. If people wonder why our family is so god damned bi
g, well my grandparents are truly the ones to blame. Still maybe having all those kids kept her sharp all these years. Say what you will, but Grandma Irene even at 80 is sharper than most.

  When I get to her house, I feel a strange sense of Déjà vu. Again I’m bombarded with the feeling that it was just yesterday that I was last here, and yet I haven’t been on my grandmother’s front steps in years.

  When I finally knock, the person that opens the door is not exactly who I expected to greet me at my grandmother’s. Instead, I am face to face with the young freshman that helped me find my locker and all of my classes yesterday.

  “Brandon? What are you doing here?” I can't help but grin at him.

  “Isaac hey! Nice to see you. What are you doing here?” he asks. Brandon is wearing the exact same T-shirt he wore yesterday with The Big Bang Theory logo on the front. I’m amused at this cause he actually does look like a young Leonard Hofstadter. Brown hair, black rimmed glasses, and chubby cheeks. The only thing that sets him aside is that deep voice of his.

  “Well, I’m here to see my grandmother. Unless you’re gonna tell me that’s who you're shacking up with, then I guess, I’m out!” He goes white before me.

  “Wait? What?!”

  “I’m messing with you, Brandon. Breathe!”

  “Oh yeah, right. Okay. So you’re here to see Ms. Irene?”

  “Yeah, Brandon. Is she in?” I ask already passing by him. I smell the house and it is exactly the same as before. The smell of nectarines and wood varnish. I always thought that this was the oddest combination but after all these years this smell made me feel that I was home. My grandmother had a two story house just like most of the people in the neighborhood. However, most houses didn’t have all the knick knacks that my grandmother acquired over the years and they also didn’t have the wall to wall family portraits and photographs on display. Every gift, every art and craft projects that she received were all out for everyone to see. Graduation photos, weddings, baptisms, communion, even some very embarrassing baby photos in the tub were all out in the open plastered on these walls.

  I didn’t have to walk up the stairs to know that my own photo was still the first one up there on the wall. It’s a picture of my grandfather - Joe, kissing my cheek on the day that I was baptized. My grandmother told me that he had always wanted a blue-eyed boy. Just like the brother he had lost in the war. When I was born, my grandmother said that it was one of the happiest days of his life. He was sure that a little bit of his brother was in me. My grandmother again thought that this was just plain old stupid superstition, but she asked my mom if she would do her the kindness of naming me after my great uncle. My grandmother loved grandpa Joe and would have done anything for him. My mom fell in love with the name the second she heard it. Hence the name Isaac. My grandfather passed away a month after that photograph was taken.

  “Ezak?” My grandmother was the only one that pronounced my name that way. Like my grandfather would have.

  “Hi, grandma.” She hadn’t changed at all. She still had her long white hair in a braid that came straight down to her back. She still wore only white with ribbons of color in her hair. Most Portuguese widows her age wore black after they lost their husbands. My grandmother hated the color. She said love should be celebrated not mourned. So she wore white, the same color she used on her wedding day. I don’t know why but the sight of her brought tears to my eyes. I had missed her. I had missed home. My grandmother was home. Last time I saw her, we were almost the same height, but now her small fragile head came up to my chest. I hugged her and let the tears flow as they may.

  “Ezak, que saudades filho.”

  “I missed you too, grandma.” I let her go and she grabbed my chin so I could look down at her. She looked into my tear filled eyes and saw all she needed to. No lies would be spoken today.

  “I’m sorry about your Nana. She good good woman. She give you good good mamã.” She says with her thick Portuguese accent still holding onto my chin.

  “Sim avó. I know.”Brandon coughs and I suddenly remember that we’re not alone. I clear the remaining tears with my sleeve and walk into her living room, my back turned towards both of them.

  “I see the place still looks the same. I still think that if you do a yard sale with all the junk you have lying around that it will probably pay for those senior citizen cruises where you could find husband number two.”

  “Sempre o smartass! You see Brandon, you see? I have not see my boy in tree yearz, and what he do when he come back? Tease his granny!” She says smiling and it warms my cold heart. I missed seeing her. I missed how when she talked, her hands talked too.

  “Come, come. You look skinny. You no eat in Arizona? I feed you! Come! Come!”

  “So Avó, how did you two meet?” I say raising my eyebrow insinuating a love affair. She slaps me on the back of the head and I almost bite my tongue.

  “Don’t be silly boy!” But I hear the humor in her tone. I sit across the kitchen table from Brandon and see that he has turned every color that exists in a crayon case.

  “Ms. Irene lets me stay over while my mom’s at work. Mom doesn’t think that I should be left in the house alone.”

  “Brandon’s ma good woman too. Hard worker. Too hard but fighter. Raise good boy, too.” My grandmother passes her hand through Brandon’s hair and I see that this arrangement has been going on for years.

  “Ezak, maybe you can come over and play on Brandon’s playbox sometime?”

  “Playstation, Ms. Irene.”

  “Potato tomato!” My grandma says, waving her hand in the air and continues to prepare some chicken salad sandwiches.

  “Well, I’m going to be pretty busy, avó. I have to help out at Tio Carlos’ store and I think that I may volunteer at the Youth Center a few afternoons after school.” My grandmother stops and stares at me and jumps up with glee.

  “Volunteer? At youth center? For those poor kids? Meu Ezak! Meu Ezak! You make me so proud. Yes, yes!! This is good. Good good news!” She kisses my cheek while she still has a spoon full of the remaining chicken salad that she hasn’t placed on the piece of bread in front of her.

  “You take Brandon! He good boy. He volunteer too.”

  “But Ms. Irene…” I can see the panic splattered on Brandon’s face.

  “No but! I talk to your mamã and you go. When you start Ezak?”

  “Tomorrow after school, avó.” I know all too well that there is no point in arguing with my grandmother. Unfortunately, I don’t think that Brandon’s got that memo yet. He continues to plead with her but I know that when this woman has made up her mind there is no turning back. I pick up Brandon’s phone from the table and input my number. Poor kid might as well have a way to contact me in the future. I told him that I would meet him at the school parking lot. After a couple of hours, I said my goodbyes and Brandon walked me to the front door.

  “I don’t know if this is a good idea. I’m not really a social type of guy. I don’t think that I’ll be good at helping out at a place like that.” I place my hand on his shoulder.

  “Breathe Brandon. Don’t give yourself a coronary. They’re just kids. Who knows? You might even have fun. Just relax. You have my number and I’ll be there with you the whole time. We also get to work with a pretty girl. The one you met yesterday when I bumped into you, remember? So it isn’t all bad is it?”

  He doesn’t look sick to his stomach anymore so I give him another pat on the back and make my way to my car. I don’t know why, but the idea of working in the youth center doesn’t frighten me as much as poor Brandon. Maybe it’s the knowledge that I’ll be giving back to the community? Nah! It’s those damn hazel eyes that are pulling me into that place.

  As much as my grandmother repeated on how good a boy I was, I knew better.

  I was not a good boy, I couldn’t even pretend to be.

  CHAPTER 5

  CASS

  I sigh with relief when I see Isaac walking toward me with Brandon. When he told me at
lunch that he was going to bring a new friend with him to the center to volunteer as well, I have to admit that I was a little apprehensive as to whom he was bringing. I knew that it couldn’t be Alex or Tony. Both of them had most of their afternoons full of sports, Tony with soccer and Alex with the swim team. Jess had her own extracurricular activities with the debate team and drama class. So I had no idea, who Isaac would show up with. I even thought it could be some girl he had met as his presence in Riverside had caused quite a stir with the female population. I had witnessed this first hand a couple of times as those brave enough to approached Jess to get some info on her cousin. Of course, Jess would shrug them away immediately, saying that this was the fucking 21st century and if they wanted to talk to him so badly or get his number, to go and fucking talk to him themselves. Those had been her exact words to about five different girls in one afternoon alone. When word got around that Jess was not gonna help out, I saw some girls actually man up and approach him on their own. I was half expecting one of these ladies to make an appearance with him this afternoon but happily it had been Brandon that tagged along, the young Freshman I had met the same day as Isaac. He looked petrified though and I wondered if he had been bullied into coming.

  “Brandon what a surprise. I’m so glad that you came.” I say sincerely.

  Brandon gives me a shy smile and I see that his fear is just caused by good old-fashioned nerves. I’m sure that it will pass as soon as we get to our destination.

  “What about me? I showed up too.” Isaac teases.

  “Yeah, yeah, you too. So, just follow behind me. It's not far. Less than a 20-minute drive. Brandon, do you want to come in my car?”

  “It’s cool Cass. The kid sticks with me today. Unless you want to drive both of us and then swing back later to drop me off?” he winks.

  “No, that’s fine. Brandon can go with you. See you in a bit.” I stroll to my car leaving both of them to get into Isaac’s car. Flirting must be second nature to that boy. He just can't help himself. I’ve seen him laying it on thick with almost everyone he has come into contact with. Even the teachers seem to get giddy with him and it’s only his third day at this school!