My spirits lift when I hear her voice and I abandon my massage. Gran’s company is all I’ll need to help me relax. “Hi, Grandma Rose,” I answer, making my way over to have a look at her latest creation.
“Do you like it?” she asks, grinning from ear to ear.
I’m faced with an unrecognizable blob of paint vaguely in the shape of a human face. My eyes search frantically for the photo Gran inevitably uses while painting, and find nothing.
“I did this one out of my imagination,” she proclaims proudly. “I think I’ve gotten good enough to not need a picture.”
“Yeah, Gran, you did a great job,” I lie.
“Guess who it is.”
“Um.” I quickly search my mental database for Gran’s favorite entertainers, but I can’t even tell if she’s painted a man or a woman.
“Frank Sinatra,” I say, knowing he’s her all-time favorite.
Gran’s smile goes out and her shoulders slump. “Aw, hell. It’s Katy Perry. I painted it for you ’cause I know you like her.”
“That would have been my second guess. Most definitely, as a matter of fact, I was going to guess Katy Perry but…”
Grandma raises a paint-speckled hand and laughs. “It’s okay, Kiddo. This one stinks. I guess the best place for it’s the garbage chute at the end of the hall.” She takes it from the easel and starts for the door.
“No,” I say quickly. “Leave it. When it’s dry, I’ll take it home.”
She narrows her eyes. “You sure?”
“Absolutely! I’ll hang it over my bed.”
“Okay,” she says, swinging it back onto the easel. “It’ll take a day or two to dry. I used oils this time.”
I sniff the air and turn in the direction of the kitchen. “Is something burning?”
“Oh, shit!” Gran rushes past me to the kitchen and pulls open the oven door.
I follow her in time to see a pan of charcoal black disks, smoking and crumbling.
“Damn it. I wanted to make your favorite cookies. You know, the ones you just have to slice and plop on the pan. The foolproof, a monkey can bake ’em ones.”
Grandma Rose isn’t much of a baker and the only two dishes I’ve ever seen her cook were pasta with tomato sauce from a jar, and Shake ’n Bake chicken wings.
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t be eating cookies anyway. Mom just bought me a new dress for grad and I have to be able to fit into it next month,” I say, patting my belly.
Grandma throws the pan, burned up cookies and all, into the sink and turns on the water. A black river runs off it and down the drain.
“Lola, don’t you worry about your figure. That’s your mom talking.”
We move into the living room and sit. I find my usual corner of the couch and Gran settles in the armchair across from me. The room is small and cluttered, but I find it cosy. Family pictures are everywhere and most of them are of me. I know I’m her favorite without her ever having said so.
“I know I’m fat. I’m a big, fat giant. Look at you. I’m not like you. I’m not like Mom, or Eva or anyone else in the family except Dad’s Uncle Sammy,” I say emphatically.
“Lola!” Gran says, like I’m in trouble. “Stop it right now. I don’t like hearing you talk about yourself that way.” She rests a gnarled hand on my knee. “Stop hating yourself, honey. It hurts my heart.”
I take a deep breath to keep from crying and clutch her hand. “I just want to be like everyone else. I want to be pretty and have lots of friends and… a boyfriend.” My gaze darts away and settles on the floor.
She lifts my chin with a finger. “You will. Don’t you worry. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.” Gran bites her bottom lip and I can tell she wants to say something else. She turns away, and then looks back at me out of the corner of her eye.
I lean forward in anticipation. But she just squeezes my hand and smiles.
“Gran? What were you going to say?”
“Huh?”
“It looked like you wanted to tell me something.”
She gives me another contemplative look and sighs. “Has anything… out of the ordinary happened to you lately?”
“Like?”
“Oh, I don’t know, just anything that may seem impossible, but it’s happening anyway?” she says quickly, then studies my expression.
I freeze. Is she talking about what I think she’s talking about?
Chapter Ten
“Lola, honey,” Grandma explains, “out of our whole family, you and I are the most alike. Now, we may not be the same size, but we definitely look like we’re related. You’ve got dark curly hair like I have or used to.” She laughs. “And blue eyes. I’m you in miniature. I’m a heck of a lot shorter but I’ve got the same sturdiness to me. It’s your mom and Eva who are different. They’re your Grandpa Ken all the way, so fine boned and delicate. Did you know that you and I even have the same blood type?” She cocks a brow.
“No. I don’t even know what my blood type is. How do you know we’ve got the same blood?”
Gran grins. “It was the first thing I asked when you were born. You’re A-negative just like me. You and I are the only ones in the family with that type of blood besides your great-great-grandmother Nell. She was my grand-mother and she had it too. It’s very rare, ya know.”
“Ahhh,” I say, wondering where this is all going.
“It first happened to me right around your age,” Grandma Rose says with a nod. “I suspect it’s happened to you by now too. It’s all right, you can tell me.” Gran’s eyes are huge as she gazes hopefully at me.
I hug myself tight around my middle and decide to tell her, only I’m hoping we’re talking about the same thing and that she’s not just asking if I’ve gotten my period by now or something.
“You’re talking about vanishing, right?” I cringe a little, bracing for her reply.
“Oh, heavens, yes. So it’s happened!” Gran is on her feet, doing a little happy dance. “I knew it would. I just knew it!”
An overwhelming sense of relief washes over me and I smile. “How did you know?”
“Because you’re like me. Didn’t you hear what I just told you? We’ve got the same blood, Lola, the same DNA.”
“You mean, you can disappear too?” My heart quickens.
“Well, no, not any more, but I did when I was younger. I had a name for it. I called it The Vanishing.”
“The Vanishing,” I repeat. I like the sound of that. “So then The Vanishing will eventually go away?”
“It did for me and I suspect when the time is right, it will for you, too.”
I purse my lips and nod slowly, contemplating what Gran’s just told me. My ability’s so new. I’m not quite sure how I feel about it yet. It’s a pain in the ass and can scare the crap outta me, but I would be sad to see it go so soon, especially now that I’m gaining a little control over it. I wouldn’t want to deal with it forever, though, so Gran’s words are reassuring.
I pull my legs up under me and make myself comfortable. There’s much to learn about The Vanishing and I want to know it all. “So, tell me about when it first happened to you. How old were you? Where were you? What were you doing? Is there any way to control it?”
Grandma Rose holds up both hands. “Slow your roll there, honey. We’ve got all afternoon.” She gets to her feet and pulls me from my comfy corner of the couch. “Come on, let’s walk and talk.”
* * * *
“I can’t believe it, Gran, why didn’t you tell me sooner? It would have been nice to know what to expect, ya know,” I say as we circle the track around the small man-made lake at the end of her apartment complex.
Grandma giggles. “Now, how would that have sounded? ‘Lola, one day you’ll simply vanish, but don’t worry, you’ll return to the visible spectrum, eventually.’ It woulda scared ya too much. Besides, I didn’t know for sure that it would happen to you.”
I strip off my jacket and tie it around my waist. The warmth of the late spring sun feel
s good on my face. “Well, then why did you bring it up now?”
“Funny thing is, I saw it on your face.”
Fooling Grandma Rose is near impossible. She always knows how I feel. Maybe that’s in the DNA too.
I give Gran the details of my first experience and then tell her about the times after. I tell her how I practice with Charlie and that I’ve been able to vanish for longer and longer periods.
“Good for you, honey. You’re a smart girl and you’re doing all the right things. Practising is great. Keep it up.”
“And yesterday, I vanished on Mom at the mall. I must have been gone close to five minutes. Oh, my God, Gran, I wish you could’ve seen. She was making me try on hideous dresses and it was friggin’ humiliating. When I disappeared, she went nuts. The salesgirl, the manager and Mom were running all over that store looking for me in the most ridiculous of places, and I was right there in front of them the whole time.”
She laughs so hard, tears spring to her eyes. “I do wish I could have seen that!”
I slip my hand into her bony knuckled one, her still vibrantly creative one and we continue to talk and walk.
“There’s something I’ve been wondering about. How come I can sit in a chair and even manage to hurt myself, but when I try to touch someone or something, my hand passes right through?”
Gran’s lips thin down in contemplation. “Just a mystery of The Vanishing, I guess.” She shrugs. “I never did figure that one out for myself.”
A faint breeze wafts over us, bringing with it the smells of spring. I take a deep contented breath, feeling safe and loved and grateful. “Tell me about the first time it happened to you.”
“Ha!” Gran laughs. My question obviously brings up a noteworthy memory. “The first time I disappeared, I was about to kiss a boy,” Gran says. “I was sixteen-and-a-half and Chuck Hutchins, my boyfriend at the time, had just walked me home after a date. We got to my porch and he leaned in for a smooch and poof, I was gone.” Grandma chuckles. “The poor boy started to cry and ran home. We never did go out on another date.”
I double over with laughter, picturing the scene and when my laughing fit’s over, she tells me stuff, good stuff.
“Have you figured out how to tell when you’re invisible yet?” she asks.
I whip my head toward her, all ears. “There’s a way to tell?”
“Yes, it’s subtle, though, so you’ll have to pay attention to the signs your body gives you. When you’re invisible, your heartbeat slows right down, but only for a moment. It’s as if it’s barely beating. But when you’re about to vanish, there’s a little flutter in your chest. The same thing happens when you’re about to return.”
“I was too freaked out to notice anything. But this is good to know, Gran. I’ll pay attention next time.”
“Yes, you do that. You’ll soon know the signs. Hungry? You want to grab something to eat?”
“No.” I don’t want our conversation to end. I’m still too full of questions.
“Okay, just let me know when you get hungry,” she says, slowing her pace and pressing a finger to her neck. “Heart’s beating a little fast.”
Suddenly, I realize I’m being selfish, that she might be tired or hungry. “Are you tired? ’Cause we can stop. Or if you’re hungry…”
She waves me off. “Naw, I’m fine. Just need to slow down a bit.”
I slow my pace to match hers. “How about Uncle Brian, can he do it?” Uncle Brian is Grandma Rose’s son, my mother’s brother.
Gran shakes her head. “No, none of the men can.”
“So only the women in the family?”
“Yup, and it comes from the Irish side. I was afraid your dad’s Italian genes would mess you up like it did Eva, but thankfully you’ve got more Irish in ya than Italian.” She winks.
Grandpa Ken was English, but Grandma Rose is 100% Irish and proud of it. I always thought of myself as a mutt, a little of this and a little of that, but now that Gran has explained where The Vanishing comes from, it’s like I suddenly belong somewhere and feel closer to her than ever.
“When did The Vanishing stop for you?” I ask.
Gran waves a hand in the air. “I dunno for sure. I guess when the menopause hit.”
“Wow, so it stayed for quite a while?”
“I suppose it stayed for as long as it needed to.” She heaves a sigh.
“What if it happens because I’m wishing it to?” I ask, thinking of Charlie’s theory. “Because if you think about it, it happens when I’m either scared or embarrassed and desperately wishing I could blend into the woodwork.”
“Hmmm, well, I suppose that could be partly right. But I really can’t say for sure because it’s happened when I was really happy too. Your great-great-grandmother Nell told me that any strong emotion triggers it. Whether it’s happiness or sadness, it doesn’t matter.”
That makes sense, since it happened to Gran when she was about to kiss a boy. Oh, great, now I have to worry about being too happy or excited. What if I disappear when a boy tries to kiss me!
“But one thing I do know for sure,” she continues, “is that the ability to disappear is a gift. A great and wonderful gift.”
“It’s gotten me out of a few tight spots, so I guess, in a way, it is a gift.”
“Lola, you have no idea just how powerful a gift it is. You just wait and see.”
It’s nice to know that I’m not alone and not some kind of freak, after all. I squint and smile up at the sun warming my body, lulling me into a blissful cocoon of contentment. Then I look at Grandma Rose and wish with all my might that she could live forever.
“One more lap and we’ll call it a day, Kiddo,” Gran says with a wink.
And off we go, hand in hand.
If only time would stand still.
Chapter Eleven
Can u meet me at Tim Horton’s? I text Charlie.
Half a second later, her reply reads, B there in 5.
After my day with Gran, I’m anxious to fill her in on the new stuff I’ve learned.
I’m so excited I practically fly to the coffee shop. When Charlie ambles in, I’m tucked away at our usual table in the corner, nursing a large orange pekoe and nibbling a peanut butter cookie.
Charlie grabs a large double double coffee and a chocolate dip donut before settling down across from me. “How was Gran?” she asks and grins. “Did you tell her about your super power?”
“Yup, and she can do it, too, or at least she used to be able to. She even has a name for it.”
Charlie’s eyes flash with interest and she nearly chokes on her donut. “No way!” she says, pounding on her chest and coughing.
“Yes, way.” I smile, enjoying her reaction. I lean close. “She calls it The Vanishing,” I say in an excited whisper.
Charlie covers my hand with hers. “That’s friggin’ unbelievable. It’s great news for you. It must run in the family.”
I explain about the A-negative blood and the Irish thing and then fill her in on everything else Grandma Rose told me.
“Wow, Lola, this is what we needed to hear – there’s a way to control it.”
“And we’re already doing all the right things by practising.” I take a long sip of tea and open my mouth to continue when Jon walks in, his laptop tucked under an arm. He grabs what looks like a cherry slushie and settles at the other end of the coffee shop.
It’s a quiet afternoon and, aside from us, there are only two other people in the place — an elderly couple enjoying donuts and coffee.
“What’s with you?” Charlie follows my wide-eyed gaze. “Oh,” she says when she spots Jon.
“I guess he’s doing homework,” I say absently. My heart races and I push away my tea. No more caffeine for me. “Let’s get out of here.”
Charlie grabs my arm, pinning me in my seat.
“I’ve got a better idea,” she says. A mischievous smile lights her face.
“Oh, no.” I shake my head. “I don’t like the loo
k on your face.”
“Just listen.” She leans close. “I don’t think he’s seen us yet. Now would be a good time to practice your skill.”
“Uh-uh, no way.”
“Chicken. This place is practically empty. No one will see you vanish. It’s a golden opportunity. Make yourself disappear and walk up to him. Just to see if you can do it. How will you be able to carry out the plan if you don’t practice? And I don’t mean in the safety of your bedroom.”
I think about when I vanished at the mall and how exciting it was. It was a little scary, though, thinking I wouldn’t return; but at the same time, I’d never felt more powerful in my entire life.
I eye Jon again. His back is to us and he’s busy tapping away on his laptop.
“Oh, God, Charlie, I don’t know.” My voice quivers.
“I dare you.”
I suck in a deep breath. Charlie’s right, this is a great way to test things out. There’s a tremble in my hands and a rumble in my stomach. If this keeps up, I just might wink out on my own anyway.
“Okay,” I relent. “But I’m just walking up to him. I’ll take a look at what he’s working on and report back to you. Okay?”
She nods enthusiastically. I close my eyes.
“Think of the time …” Charlie begins and my eyes snap open. I fix her with a look that says “shut up.”
“Okay, I guess you know what to do,” she huffs and leans back to watch.
Eyes closed, I begin again. I try a different tactic and picture Jon pulling me to his chest, tilting his head and kissing me. I can almost feel his lips on mine. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth because it feels so real. My heart flutters and my eyes fly open. My heart fluttered!
Charlie’s jumping excitedly in her seat. I must have done it. I must be invisible. I wave a hand an inch from her face to make certain and, sure enough, she’s unflinching. Before I lose my nerve, I push to my feet and make my way over to Jon.
As I close in, I catch his scent. God, he smells good, like soap and freshly shampooed hair mixed with a hint of cologne. I’m there now, right behind him, and I peer over his shoulder to read what’s he’s writing. It looks like a story. Oh, wow, he likes to write too! I try to read it, but can’t get past the first sentence, distracted by how near I am.
Invisible Page 4
