by H. M. Mann
Marion cackled from the kitchen.
Oh, I get the irony of all this, old lady, but you don’t know the half of it. We were two puzzle pieces last night, and we fit together just fine in that corner and on that skinny little bed.
“Um, go clean your room, Angel.”
“It’s already clean.”
Because it’s never dirty. “Then start your chores.”
“I already did them.”
Of course you did, and Grandma made sure of it so you could grill me as soon as I came in, didn’t she? “Then why don’t you …” Oh geez, I’m about to say it. “Why don’t you go read your new book?”
Angel smiled, said, “Okay,” and raced up the stairs.
Gloria went into the kitchen to confront the squealing, cackling wench. “Why’d you tell her, Mama?”
“Because you wouldn’t have,” Marion said.
True, but … “It’s not your place.”
Marion threw up her hands. “My name is on the deed to this place.”
“You know what I mean. She’s my child, and I will tell her the important things, okay?”
Marion sipped her coffee. “I held out as long as I could, but when she asked, ‘Where’s Mama?’ for the hundred and fiftieth time in ten minutes, I broke down. She’s a persistent something-something. You know that. No person alive could withstand that.”
I can barely stand all her questions myself. “You could have told her that I would tell her when I got home.”
“And then I’d be listening to, ‘When’s Mama gonna come home?’ I told her the truth. I do that around here.”
Gloria sat. “But did you have to use the B-word?”
“Would you rather I said that you were getting frisky with Johnny? I could have, you know. And then you and Miss Angel would be having the talk right now.”
Gloria shuddered. “It’s much too soon for that.”
Marion leaned in and whispered, “Your child is about ten years ahead of her peers academically. She’s already fifteen years old in her mind. Just imagine—”
“I don’t want to think about that now, okay?” Gloria interrupted.
Marion sat back. “You are one cranky thing this morning.” She smiled. “He has big hands, doesn’t he?”
Gloria smiled, imagining Johnny’s roving hands. “He has very big hands.”
Marion nodded sagely. “It’s about time you realized that I have some knowledge around here, but didn’t he want to … you know?”
I can’t answer that one, I mean, if he wanted to, we probably would have.
Sorry, Lord.
“Johnny’s working through a few things in his life right now, and so am I.” Gloria took a deep breath. “I really think this is going to last.”
Marion sighed and shook her head. “You’ve known him for only four months. He’s practically a stranger.”
“Johnny is not a stranger, Mama,” Gloria said. “He’s my boyfriend.”
Marion grinned. “And now you’ve finally realized it. You said the B-word.”
“No I …” I did, didn’t I? But why?
Marion walked behind Gloria’s chair and kissed her cheek. “I just wanted to hear you say it. For a few minutes there, I was worried.”
Gloria looked behind her. What just happened? “So why were you worried exactly?”
“I was worried that you and Angel would never leave this house. Now you have a man in your life, a man who is coming over to play with a puzzle, of all things. It must be love.”
Gloria stood. “Now Mama, it’s a long leap from boyfriend to husband.” Oh my God! I said the H-word! “And we’re not even in love yet.”
“He is.”
Gloria’s eyes dropped. “He says he is.”
“And you’re holding up the show.” Marion left the kitchen and went to the hall closet. “Figures. Man with big hands isn’t good enough for Gloria.” She slid out a card table. “Sure, he drives a lime green clown-mobile, but he has a nice face and manners, isn’t an idiot, and that isn’t good enough for Gloria.”
Gloria stepped into the hallway. “It’s not about being good enough, Mama. Johnny told me some amazing things about himself, but I just don’t—”
“Take this.” Marion handed the table to Gloria. “Set it up in front of the loveseat.”
Gloria carried the table into the living room, and Marion followed with two folding chairs.
“How picky can you afford to be, Gloria?” Marion asked. “It isn’t like men are knocking on your door with any regularity. Before Johnny, when was the last time you even talked to a man for more than five minutes? And your gynecologist doesn’t count.”
No one, but she already knows that. Gloria set up the table then took one of the chairs, unfolded it, and slid it into place. “I just want to be sure, okay? There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be a hundred percent sure.”
“There are no guarantees in this life, Gloria,” Marion said. “I had plenty of doubts about Nathan before I married him. Plenty. And I had been knowing him a long time. Yet I still worried myself to death about where he was or who he was with. Was I ever completely sure of him? No. That kind of thing ain’t possible. I had to learn to trust the man, and he did right by me for over thirty years. I’m warning you, Gloria. You wait too long, it won’t matter if you’re sure or not.” Marion went to the window. “Your boyfriend is here already?”
Gloria looked out the window. “No, he isn’t.”
“You can’t hear that muffler? Geez. She’s deaf and blind.”
Gloria looked down the street and saw the Vega. How does she do that? “I’m not blind, Mama.”
“You’re blind to love, aren’t you? If an old half-blind woman like me can see it in his eyes, you have to be blinder than blind.” Marion rubbed her eyes. “What kind of sandwiches do y’all want?”
“I’ll make lunch, Mama.”
“No, no. A man is about to knock on your door. After I mark the calendar and drink some champagne to celebrate that event, I’m going to make us some soup and sandwiches.”
As Marion hummed her way back to the kitchen, Gloria watched Johnny open and shut his door several times, finally leaning his hip into it until it closed. He walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and took out a huge box.
Gloria gasped. Does it have 10,000 pieces? She focused on the box. Geez, Johnny. Why’d you bring Cinderella’s castle to a child who can’t stand the glass slipper-wearing wench? Angel is going to hate it!
Gloria opened the door. “That was fast.”
Johnny smiled and showed Gloria the box. “It was the last one on the shelf. Neuschwanstein Castle, the eighth wonder of the world.”
“There are only seven,” Angel said from the top of the stairs.
Johnny stepped to the foot of the stairs. “You’re right, Angel. The folks in Bavaria, Germany, entered this castle in a contest to see if this castle might be named one of the modern wonders of the world. It came in eighth, so they call it …”
“The eighth wonder of the world,” Angel said, taking one stair at a time. “So it lost.”
“Yeah.” Johnny tilted the box. “It has eight hundred and thirty-six pieces, and … it’s three-dimensional.”
Angel took two quick steps and stopped, narrowing her eyes. “It looks like Sleeping Beauty’s castle.”
This is going better than I thought it would, Johnny thought. “It kind of is.”
Angel’s shoulders slumped.
Oh yeah. Angel hates cartoon people, so she has to hate where cartoon people hang out and harass tourists. “And I’m sorry I didn’t read the fine print on the box,” Johnny said sadly. “It says ‘for children twelve to fifteen.’ I forgot that you were only five.”
Angel zipped down the final three steps, snatched the box out of Johnny’s hands, and took the box into the living room.
Gotcha, Johnny thought. “Good morning, Marion,” he called.
“You’re early,” Marion said, sticking her head into
the hall. “Do you eat lunch before ten-thirty or what?”
“I eat when I’m hungry, Marion.” Johnny smiled at Gloria and raised his eyebrows, pulling her towards the banister and kissing her forcefully. “So glad you brushed your teeth.”
“I’m sure you’re doing something nasty out there,” Marion said, “so cut it out. If you’re going to make a habit of being early, it’s polite to call first.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Johnny smiled at Gloria. “I done good?” he whispered.
Gloria cut her eyes into the living room, and the two of them entered, watching Angel opening the box.
“I won’t need your help, Johnny,” Angel said.
“I don’t plan to give you any help, Angel,” Johnny said.
“Good,” Angel said.
“I do have a cool story about that castle, though,” Johnny said. “Wanna hear it?”
Angel sighed. “Okay.”
What a rude little girl! Gloria thought. She gets her manners from her Grandma.
“Well, the castle you’re building was almost finished over a hundred and twenty years ago,” Johnny said, “when the German government declared the man who built it, King Ludwig the Second, insane.”
Angel blinked.
“They even arrested poor Ludwig, and not long afterwards, they found him drowned in very shallow water.” Johnny scrunched up his eyebrows. “Quite a mystery, that.”
Angel stared at the box. “So a king built this?”
“Yep. It was his palace.” He pointed at the picture. “There’s the gatehouse, and that’s the Knight’s House, and that’s a Palas.”
“A what?” Angel asked.
“It’s kind of like a guardhouse.”
Angel studied the guardhouse. “But if they already have a house for the knights, why do they need guards?”
“To guard the knights,” Johnny said.
“That makes no sense,” Angel said.
“The king was crazy …” Johnny smiled.
Angel sighed and looked up at Johnny with tight lips. “Yes. He was. Crazy.”
Was that meant for me? Johnny thought.
Angel rolled her eyes and returned to the box.
Yep. She meant that for me. Time to skulk away to the kitchen with my tail between my legs. “If you need any help, just …”
“I won’t.”
Johnny nodded, took Gloria’s hand, and led her to the kitchen. He snapped on a little radio on top of the refrigerator, jazz filling the room with sound. “She hates me,” Johnny whispered. “I should have gotten the thousand-piece all red puzzle.”
Gloria shook her head and stepped into Johnny’s chest. “She doesn’t hate you, Johnny. She hates me. I wasn’t here this morning.” For the first time in my life, too. My heart still hurts. She looked at Marion. “And somebody told her that you were my boyfriend.”
“I am?” Johnny asked.
Marion nodded.
“Cool,” Johnny said.
Marion and Johnny stared at Gloria.
“Yes, geez,” Gloria said. “You’re my boyfriend. Why is that so important to you, Mama?”
Marion smiled. “Sit down, Johnny. Let me tell you about Gloria’s glorious childhood.”
No! “It’s … really boring, Johnny,” Gloria said. “You don’t want to hear any of this.”
Johnny sat. “I’m all ears.”
Marion cocked her head. “See you got rid of that hair on your ear.”
Johnny nodded. “Gloria plucked it.”
“Right.” Marion looked up at Gloria. “You can sit down, too. There’s room.”
Gloria sat. “Just don’t believe everything she tells you, Johnny. She has a tendency to stretch the truth.”
“You’ll just have to correct me then, won’t you, Gloria?” Marion turned to Johnny. “She won’t be saying much for a while, and that will amaze you. Trust me.”
Shoot, Gloria thought. She’s only going to tell the truth now.
“Johnny,” Marion said, “that woman over there has never had a boyfriend in her life.”
Johnny looked from Marion to Gloria.
“But Mama, you’re forgetting—”
“A prom date doesn’t count,” Marion interrupted. “She didn’t even like him. She just wanted to go. He looked like Mr. Magoo with big buck teeth and a suit two sizes too small.”
“He did not!” Gloria shouted.
Marion nodded. “Wore white socks, too.”
Johnny focused on Marion. Marion has such young eyes for someone so old.
“And no boy who took you on his only date with you counts.” Marion sighed. “The one-date wonder herself. Right there in that chair, Johnny.”
Johnny turned his eyes back to Gloria. Whoa! Gloria suddenly has such old eyes for someone so young.
“I was … I wasn’t interested in having a boyfriend, Johnny,” Gloria said. “I had my whole life planned out, and a boyfriend was not in that plan. You know why? The woman over there acting so smug ran off any boy I went out with.”
Johnny raised his eyebrows and looked at Marion.
“They weren’t good enough for Gloria at all,” Marion said. “They all had shifty eyes and horrible manners. And one had Coke bottle glasses. I did her a favor.”
Johnny lowered his eyebrows and pouted at Gloria.
“So what that woman over there is saying, Johnny, is that I never had the chance to have a boyfriend,” Gloria said.
Johnny nodded and looked at Marion.
Marion didn’t speak.
Johnny turned back to Gloria.
Gloria didn’t speak.
Oh, Johnny thought. It must be my turn to speak. “Um, that’s it?”
Gloria blinked. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?”
What do I mean by ‘that’s it’? Johnny searched the kitchen for the answer and only found spotless counters and shiny appliances. He looked at Marion. “Was Gloria anything like Angel when she was five?”
“You mean,” Marion said, “was she rude and too smart for her own good?”
Johnny opened his mouth but didn’t speak. Gloria’s eyes were little dots. Don’t answer! Rephrase, rephrase! “I meant, um, what was Gloria like when she was five?” Whew. General questions are best.
Johnny’s sharper than he looks, Marion thought. “Gloria was … lazy.”
Gloria’s mouth dropped open. “I was not! You never gave me any time to be lazy. I was always cleaning or cooking or doing laundry or folding your clothes or raking leaves or straightening my room or helping Granddaddy in the yard. I have never been lazy in my life!”
And now Johnny knows you’re decent housewife material, Marion thought. I am a sneaky granny. “Oh, but Johnny, Gloria really can’t cook very well.”
Gloria shot to her feet. “That’s a lie!”
“Johnny, the smoke alarm in the hall beeps whenever she even thinks about cooking,” Marion said.
“I do not burn food, Mama, and you know it.”
“I have to use a chisel to get her macaroni and cheese out of the pan,” Marion said. “And cleaning that pan? I’d need a jackhammer. I throw away so many pans around here.”
“That is … My macaroni and cheese is outstanding,” Gloria said. “I’m using your recipe, remember?”
“She made these sugar cookies once that were so inedible,” Marion said, her eyes dancing, “that I crushed them up and sprinkled them all over the house. I haven’t had a single mouse in this house in twenty years.”
Gloria sighed. They were pretty bad, but … “I just didn’t use enough sugar.”
Marion winked at Johnny. “She didn’t use any sugar at all. Gloria doesn’t always read the directions either. She uses tablespoons instead of teaspoons sometimes. Her biscuits are sometimes as big as basketballs.”
“That was only that one time, Mama!”
Angel stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her foot tapping. “I am trying to concentrate.”
Marion turned off the radio. “We’re sorry, baby.
How’s it going?”
“It’s a piece of cake,” Angel said with a smirk, turned with a flourish, and left.
“Speaking of cake,” Marion said with a chuckle.
Oh, not this story! “Mama, please don’t.”
I like this kitchen, Johnny thought. It’s full of so many good stories. I should be taking notes. We could all write the How Not to Cook Cookbook.
“Gloria was eight, and she wanted to make me a cake,” Marion said. “‘What kind of cake do you want to make for me?’ I asked. ‘I want to make you a pound cake, Mama.’” Marion rose and opened a cabinet over the stove, reaching up and pulling out a thick stack of loose-leaf paper, Post-Its, and stationery. “This is my cookbook.” She set the stack on the table and flipped through several stacks of pages before stopping. “Here it is.” She slid the page to Johnny. “You read the ingredients to me, and I’ll tell you what little Gloria did.”
“Mama, this is so unfair!” Gloria whined. “Johnny, she was in the kitchen the entire time and could have corrected me.”
Marion shook her head. “But little Gloria didn’t want any help, just like Angel, so I let her fail. Ready?”
Johnny cleared his throat. “One cup butter, softened.”
“Gloria took the stick out of the fridge and plunked it into the bowl,” Marion said. “Gloria can be a pretty loud cook.”
“It loosened up eventually,” Gloria said.
“Huge chunks,” Marion said. “All over the kitchen walls, the ceiling, and the floor when she turned on the mixer. Next?”
“Half cup shortening,” Johnny said.
“Full cup,” Marion said. “Guess she wanted to make it even more fattening.”
“The slash and the two were smudged,” Gloria said.
“Um, three cups granulated sugar,” Johnny said.
Marion nodded.
“Five eggs beaten,” Johnny said.
“Three,” Marion said.
“The five looked like a three, I swear!” Gloria shouted.
Johnny didn’t want to continue. Every time I speak, Gloria yells!
“Read the next one, Johnny,” Marion said.
“Um, three cups all-purpose flour.” Johnny braced for more shouting.
“Three cups self-rising flour,” Marion said.
