Best Friends...Forever?

by Krysten Lindsay Hager

  Chapter Three

  The next day, we went to visit my Grandma Albright. I'd never felt comfortable at her house. It always seemed like a museum or something with its vases and wood-paneled walls. I grew up hearing, "Don't touch that — it's expensive, delicate, too nice for you," etc. It's not a lot of fun being someplace where I felt like everything I did was wrong. Mom made me wear a boring outfit with a bright green corduroy skirt and a pink turtleneck with a matching green-and-pink sweater over it. It was totally preppy and made me look about six years old. I tried putting on some makeup, but Mom said Grandma would throw a fit if I wore a lot. There was no way I was going to be in Christmas pics barefaced and washed-out (again), so I put on a little concealer over my breakouts, a dab of blush, some mascara, and a little pink lipstick which I blotted just to give me a little color. It looked like I wasn't wearing makeup at all. Even Mom said Grandma couldn't object to what I had on.

  We walked into Grandma's house, and she had some candy dishes out. I didn't smell anything cooking, which was weird since it was lunchtime. Were we supposed to eat or something before we came over?

  "Mom, what time is lunch?" Dad asked, kissing Grandma on the cheek.

  "Oh, well everyone's always on diets, so I thought I'd just put out sandwich items, and you can make a little something yourselves," Grandma said, leading us into the kitchen. I exchanged a look with Mom. On the gray marble countertop was a tiny plate of sliced ham and turkey, some cheese slices, four lettuce leaves, and three slices of tomato.

  "Help yourselves," she said.

  "To what?" Mom whispered to me. "You better hope the rest of the family got here early and ate, or else we're all going to be fighting to the death over a tomato slice."

  I laughed out loud, and Grandma called out to me, "Is everything all right, Landry?"

  "Yeah, I just am so happy to…see ham. It's my favorite."

  Dad walked over to the counter, and Mom asked him if everyone else had already eaten.

  "Yeah, they ate at noon," he said.

  "Without us?" she asked.

  "Oh, well, she said come around noon, but I thought, you know, whenever…"

  "Wait, around noon or at noon?" Mom asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

  "Does it matter?"

  "Yes, it matters! We're late," she said. "And she's probably going to blame me for it. Why didn't you just say we needed to be here at noon? I thought it was a casual drop-in thing since you didn't specify a time."

  Mom sighed, but Dad shrugged and started making a sandwich.

  She leaned over to me. "He loves tomatoes, so take two slices, and I'll take the other one."

  I shook my head, but it was nice to be on the same side as my mother for a change, so I took the tomato slices and she smirked.

  Grandma wanted us to come into the living room with my aunt, uncle, and cousins, Bryan and Lucy. I felt stupid eating in front of them while they basically watched, and I could tell my mom did, too. I never noticed how loud I chewed. Did I always sound this obnoxious when I ate? No one said anything, so all I heard was the three of us chewing and Grandma clearing her throat. Finally, Grandma asked my mom a question about work. Mom's mouth was full, and she awkwardly chewed fast and tried to swallow to answer.

  "Fine, going well. Got two new accounts I'm head of, so moving up in the company," she said.

  "Mmmm," Grandma said with her lips set in a straight line. She hated the fact that my parents weren't living under the same roof, but it wasn't anyone's fault. My mom had gotten the job in Grand Rapids, and my dad had it set up to transfer to a clinic there, but it fell through at the last minute, so he stayed behind in Chicago. He was supposed to be looking for something in Michigan, but so far nothing. I hated living apart from my dad — and to be honest, since the move, my parents fought a lot over the phone and during visits. They weren't separated or anything, but I worried about that. I mean, it had been two years of us living apart, and Mom was talking about another job transfer.

  "Almost finished, dear?" Grandma asked as I took the last bite of my sandwich. I nodded, but I was still hungry. Grandma had somehow found the smallest slices of bread and lunchmeat ever. I couldn't wait to get to my other grandparents' house the next day. Grandma Dombrowski didn't know the meaning of "small portions," and she was an amazing cook.

  I took my plate back to the kitchen, and Mom followed me. "Still hungry?" she asked. I nodded. She said there was a protein bar in her purse we could split. We went into the back bedroom with the coats, and she broke it in half.

  "I think I have a chocolate bar in my bag," I said. "Oh, jackpot! I have two. Do you want with caramel or plain?"

  "Plain. Ooh, I have mints. It truly is a magical day."

  "Ladies, what's taking so long?" Grandma called from the hallway.

  "I want to finish my candy bar. Please, can I say I have diarrhea or something to buy some time?" I said to Mom.

  "I'm sure that word has never been spoken in this house. Do you know, when she potty trained your father she referred to it as, 'a mess,' or, 'number two,' because any other terms were too 'unseemly' for her?"

  "How did that ever come up?" I asked. Was that what people talked about when they got married? Gross! I couldn't imagine saying anything like that in front of Vladi. At most, I could probably get "I need to use the bathroom" out, but nothing more. No, I'd lie and say I had to comb my hair or something before I'd ever use a word like "diarrhea" in front of him.

  "Your dad and I were on a date, and I said I 'had to pee,' and he stared at me like I was a heathen. Then he told me that his mother hated those kinds of words. If I didn't think it'd reflect badly on me, I'd give you a raise in your allowance if you told her you needed to wee."

  "I'd do it, too."

  We went back into the living room where Grandma was lecturing Lucy about playing on her phone.

  "There now, the girls are finally back. Let's open the gifts," she said.

  Grandma always gave Lucy, Bryan, and me money for Christmas. Every year she passed out little red envelopes and, after we'd all seen the amount, swooped down and took the checks back to put in the bank. At least that was what she said she did with them. For all I knew, she might have been planning to buy a vacation home in Capri. I knew she meant well, but it wasn't too exciting to open a card and then have it taken away. When I was little, I used to at least get a toy, too, but that ended at age eleven. Apparently that was adulthood in Grandma's eyes.

  As Grandma went around collecting our envelopes, she put another small one in my hand and winked. "Shh. Open it later."

  I waited until everyone seemed preoccupied and then went to the bathroom to see what she had given me. Inside the tiny green envelope was a twenty-five-dollar gift card for a bookstore. Grandma rocked. She had written on the card, "For my writer/reader. Keep up the good work. – Grandma."

  Leaving the bathroom, I went into her office, found a piece of paper and a pen, and wrote her a thank-you note and then went into her bedroom to put it on her bed where she'd see it. She was big on thank-you notes, so I knew I'd better address the extra gift.

  Grandma hadn't liked it when Lucy was on her phone, so I knew I couldn't get away with checking my e-mail. It was just as well. Nobody had bothered to write me in forever.

  "Landry, show Grandma the pictures you brought from your last photo shoot," Mom said as I walked back into the room. I saw Lucy roll her eyes as I pulled the pictures out. Wow, I had to hear about everything Miss Perfect did, and she was going to show attitude over me handing Grandma a couple pictures? Unbelievable. I half-wished I had packed more stuff so I could waste an hour of Lucy's precious life going through photos of me. As she snapped her gum, I imagined myself going through the photos and boring her: "See, here I am with my head slightly tilted…and here it's tilted slightly more…and then slightly more...and then bam! Tilted the other direction. Can you believe it, Luce? Did you see that one coming?"

  After Grandma went through the pictures, Lucy went on and on about
how "ah-maz-ing" school was going, and I started to tune her out. I wanted to bring up her secret tattoo, but then Dad would get mad at me for squealing. However, I did notice Grandma wasn't thrilled when Lucy brought up her boyfriend. How did Lucy even have time for a boyfriend with all her schoolwork and the fifty-thousand after-school activities she was doing? I wasn't sure what a co-chair on a committee even did, but it seemed like Lucy was co-chair on twenty of them. Apparently, that stuff was good for college applications or something, but I didn't want to have to think about any of that for a long time.

  It felt like everyone in my school was already starting to worry about college, which seemed crazy to me. Tori's mom was always on her about how things would look on her transcript for getting into schools. She was smart and a good soccer player. Why wasn't that enough? And if her mom was worried about that not being enough, then what chance did I have? I was just an okay student; I did better in some classes than others, like I was great at English and history, but math was just not my thing. And I didn't play any sports, but I liked to write, and I did some modeling jobs here and there. My mom said I could put that stuff down for college to show I was responsible and hardworking, but why couldn't I just be fourteen? Why were we expected to grow up so fast? It seemed like people were always yelling about kids and teens dressing too sexy and dating or growing up too fast, but everyone put so much pressure on us to be perfect. Plus, the teen singers and actors always acted like adults. I mean, some of them had serious boyfriends and they'd pose in their underwear in magazines. It was so confusing — grow up, don't act too grown up, act your age — what did that even mean? And it seemed like I was a kid when it was convenient for my parents and teachers and an almost-adult when they wanted me to be one.

  I would hear, "Landry, clean your room. You need to start acting more like an adult" one minute and "You want to stay out until eleven? Are you kidding me? You're just a little kid" the next.

  See? My mom needed to make up her mind — was I a kid or an adult? So annoying.

  While these thoughts were rolling around in my head, my aunt, uncle, mom, and grandma went on and on about some stuff in the news while Lucy sat texting and Bryan and my dad talked about football. I hated how Bryan tried to act so adult, but I hated the fact that Lucy didn't give me a second glance even more. After all, there was no one else anywhere near her age, besides her brother, to talk to, and she couldn't make time for me? And there wasn't anyone else around to see her talking to me, but I guess I just wasn't worth her time. If I had a little cousin, I'd make time for her. Even if I thought modeling was totally stupid, I'd still ask her about it, because I knew it was important to her. But Lucy couldn't be bothered, I guess.

  We left a few hours later, and as soon as I walked in the door of Dad's apartment, I went straight to the computer.

  "Please, please, please," I chanted in my head as I waited for my e-mail to open. There were eight new messages, but six were stupid ads. Peyton had written back saying she had pneumonia, and Ashanti had scanned a picture of her wearing her new light-pink winter coat. I tried to picture Vladi's e-mail address in my new mail section. I didn't think it would work, but I checked the inbox once more before signing off. Yes, yes, yes! He wrote back!

  To: Albright@alphamail.com

  From: VY0062@us.com

  Subject: Hi Landry

  Hi Landry,

  How are you? Glad to know you're having fun in Chicago. My Uncle Yuri came last night, and my mom made potato pancakes, my favorite. Do you have other relatives in Chicago or just your dad? What did you do on Christmas? I don't get to open my presents until January (we celebrate later), but I hope I get some new video games. What did you get?

  See ya,

  Vladi

  He had written me back and wanted to know what I did for Christmas. Vladi was so thoughtful, so sweet, and I loved potato pancakes, too! We were so meant to be. I didn't e-mail him right back — that was Ashanti's rule: always wait a little bit before writing a guy back — and went to tell my mom just as Dad was coming into the room.

  "So that's the guy you were hanging out with at Ignatowski's Ice Cream Palace?" she asked, and I nodded.

  "What guy? Huh? How old is he?" Dad asked.

  "He's a freshman. His name is Vladi, and he's adorable," I said, sliding over the top of the couch.

  "He is?" Dad asked.

  "He is adorable," my mom said.

  Dad rolled his eyes. "No, he's a freshman?"

  I sat up. Did Dad think that a freshman wouldn't be interested in me? Vladi was just a year older than me, but Dad started to point out that high school was a completely different world. I didn't think that was important, since I was totally and completely in love with Vladi, but I didn't argue.

  "It's not like they're dating," Mom said.

  I knew she was trying to help, but it made me feel worse, since she obviously thought Vladi wouldn't ask me out. At least Dad acted like there might have been something to be concerned about. I almost pointed out our "sorta/maybe" dates but decided not to, or else Dad might not have let me leave the house again. Mom asked if I'd written back when Dad left the room. I told her about Ashanti's waiting rule.

  "I used to do that, too. Sometimes I still make your dad wait before I call him back," she said, laughing.

  "What should I write?"

  "Just be yourself," she said.

  I decided to e-mail Peyton and Ashanti for advice, since my mother was absolutely no help. Peyton was still sick, but both she and Ashanti said the same thing: "Be yourself." Hmm, well, if they both thought it might work then I figured I might as well try it.

  I wrote Vladi back and told him about going to my grandma's and what I got for Christmas. It surprised me how long my e-mail was when I finished writing. As I re-read it, I hoped he didn't think I was a loser with nothing better to do, even though I sort of was.

  Chapter Four

  The next day, we headed over to my other grandparents' house for dinner. Grandpa Dombrowski opened the door and his face brightened as soon as he saw me. "How's my girl? Well, how's my supermodel writer, I should say." Grandpa always made me feel like I was his favorite person on earth.

  "Bernie, let them in the house," Grandma said. "They'll catch their death standing on the porch. Get in here. Come, come."

  Mom went over to her as Grandpa took my coat. "I hope you're hungry," Grandma said. "We're ready to eat."

  "Do you need help with anything, Ma?" Mom asked.

  "You don't know what you're doing in my kitchen," Grandma said, waving her off. "It's easier if I do it all. Go sit."

  We sat in the bright yellow dining room. Grandma had ham, sausage, mashed potatoes, rolls, cucumber salad, regular salad, some weird-looking dish with beets in it, scalloped potatoes, and rye bread on the table. Now that was what I called "yummers town."

  "Oh, it smells amazing," Dad said, taking some sausage.

  We filled our plates, and for every spoonful I took, Grandma somehow managed to sneak an extra helping onto my plate. Everything tasted delicious. The potatoes were so creamy and had this amazing savory flavor to them. She would never tell us what any of her "secret ingredients" were, but man, nothing tasted like my grandma's mashed potatoes. I felt like I was going to explode when I was done.

  "Ready for dessert?" Grandma asked.

  "Can we have a breather first, Ma?" Mom asked.

  "Okay, well, I'll clear the table."

  Grandpa started to get up to help, but I said I'd do it. I followed Grandma into the kitchen while my parents and he talked about the weather.

  "Glad to see you still have your appetite," Grandma said. "I worry about you modeling."

  I shrugged. "I don't work much," I said.

  She asked how school was, and I told her what she wanted to hear. "Um, Grandma? Do you still make potato pancakes?"

  "I sure do. We had some the other night. I have leftovers. Do you want some?"

  If I hadn't been about to burst, I probably would have said yes
.

  "Maybe later, but…are they hard to make?"

  "For your mother, apparently," she said. "Well, you have to grate the potato, and I don't want you to scrape your hand off, but I might be able to teach you an easier way to make them. Maybe next time you visit?"

  I nodded.

  "Missing my cooking?"

  "Yeah, and this…friend of mine loves them," I said.

  "Friend? As in a boy?"

  How did she know that? I nodded.

  "Well, maybe next time we'll work on those, but you spend more time on your studies and less time on the boys, okay?" she said. Did all grandmothers have a thing about not wanting their granddaughters to date?

  After dessert, we opened presents. I only had one thing to unwrap. Grandma told me she got me money and a gift card so we wouldn't have to struggle with a lot of extra stuff on the train ride home. I was excited; the gift card was for a bookstore. That gave me fifty dollars to spend on books. The present was a blue school sweater. I didn't like being reminded of school, but at least it was a pretty light shade of blue, considering that my Hillcrest school uniform colors made me look like a dead goldfish on a good day.

  We watched a Christmas movie, and I talked to Grandpa about school. Dad said we had to head back, but I wanted to stay. Mom said next time we came to town, we could make it a longer visit. She had a project at work, which meant we couldn't spend as much time in Chicago this holiday. I bit my lip wondering if that "project" had anything to do with the possible move she was telling me about on the train. We couldn't move with things finally feeling settled for me — well, more settled anyway — at school with my friends. Plus I had modeling work in Grand Rapids, and there was Vladi, too. I finally felt like I belonged, and she wanted me to leave all that behind?

  I didn't say much on the ride back to the apartment.

  Mom touched my shoulder. "I know you wanted to stay, but next time. Promise."