Something Had to Give

by Trish D.

  Mommy reminded me a lot of grandma. Grandma Gladys and Grandpa Ulysses lived in Michigan, where Shanna and I would spend the bulk of our summer vacations. I never felt safe flying to Michigan. The way my stomach dropped at takeoff and the constant popping in my ears made the flight seem like torture. Shanna would try to seem brave, but on several occasions, I noticed that she was gripping the armrest and breathing heavily when the plane began to move. However, when I tried to hold her hand, she would always tell me to grow up and to stop being such a “scary cat.” Luckily, there was always a nice stewardess who would hold my hand until I was able to somewhat relax and bring me snacks. She would never admit it, but I think it helped Shanna to have an adult there with us until we felt comfortable. Plane rides that always seemed to last hours upon hours always ended with Grandma and Grandpa greeting us with hugs and kisses. Grandma and Mommy had the same exact smile. It was genuine, but just a bit forced. As was the case with Mommy, it was hard to tell if Grandma was truly happy or playing the role that was expected of her. Grandpa was the complete opposite. You always knew how he truly felt and most of the time it was grumpy! The ride home from the airport and pretty much anywhere else he drove was full of lots of yelling and cussing. Shanna and I would giggle in the back seat while Grandma nervously fidgeted and pumped her imaginary breaks from the passenger seat. However, she never would say a word to try and calm him down. Just like Mommy, Grandma did whatever possible to avoid confrontation. I imagined it was the same when Mommy was growing up. At one point, she was the one in the backseat right where I sat watching Grandma’s reactions to Grandpa’s antics and silently taking note.

  I loved Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Shanna had explained to me that it was a ranch home when I foolishly described it to a friend as a “one floor house.” It had a large front porch with a swing on one side and a hammock on the other. Each time I visited, I imagined myself living in a house exactly like theirs when I got older. Grandma planted tulips and roses leading up to the home and even maintained a garden of fresh veggies. The grass was the greenest I had ever seen and Grandpa made it well known that no one was to walk on it. Their garage was nothing like ours. Grandpa’s model cars were neatly aligned on shelves and Grandma’s gardening tools were all together in a corner. There was no clutter like ours had at home. Grandpa would sit on the swing with his coffee and newspaper every morning that the weather allowed. Often I would lie on the hammock and watch him. It was a well-known rule to not interrupt Grandpa during his morning coffee, but I found great amusement watching his reactions to the stories he read. It was only after he had finished reading the sports section that I could sit beside him on the swing without him getting annoyed at how much I was swinging. Grandpa would talk for hours about baseball, guns, and cars. He talked about all three so passionately that even Shanna would sit and listen. Grandpa was retired military and always expected order around him. Everything about his personality and demeanor screamed military. There was a certain way his clothes had to be ironed, he expected each meal at a certain time like clockwork, clothes and towels had to be folded a certain way, and the house had to be maintained at all times. It was nothing like how it was at home. If Shanna and I made a mess, we had to immediately clean it up. There was no waiting on Grandma to do it later. He had a quick temper if things were not up to his standards and though there were plenty of times that he made me cry or feel inadequate, I loved my Grandpa and loved spending time with him.

  The inside of the home was kept so immaculate that it was hard to believe that Mommy and Aunt Michelle were raised there. We weren’t allowed to walk on the carpet with our shoes nor were we allowed to ever drink anything while on the carpet. The living room was just for show since no one ever sat in there and unlike our home, there wasn’t even a television in there. Instead, the television was in the den where Grandpa had his bar, gun cabinet, and of course, more model cars. There were four bedrooms: the master bedroom, Mommy’s old room, Aunt Michelle’s old room, and the guest room. I always slept in Mommy’s old room when we visited. The room was different, of course, from when she was my age, but I always felt like me staying in that room made me closer to her. It was a closeness that I didn’t ever expect to feel with her in real life. Shanna would never agree to stay in Aunt Michelle’s old room, instead opting to sleep in the guest room. We were not allowed in Grandpa and Grandma’s room. From the doorway, it looked beautiful. My first time visiting, I ignorantly asked where they slept because the bed was so perfectly made. I was convinced that no one ever touched it. The house was beautiful. It had even been featured on a magazine once. The picture of them showed Grandma with a grin from ear to ear. You could see how proud she was of this feature. Grandpa on the other hand couldn’t even force a smile. Instead his face showed sheer irritation. Daddy had joked that his scowl was likely due to the fact that the picture was taken standing on his perfectly cut front yard.

  My Grandma worked diligently to keep the house to Grandpa’s standards. Just like Mommy, she had never worked outside the home. The time and effort she put into keeping the house up definitely qualified as a full-time job. Grandma always looked tired. I would imagine that the work she did on a daily basis took a large toll on her. Yet, whenever I asked her to sit and read with me or to attend my tea parties, she would without hesitation. She was a people pleaser and much like Mommy, she strived to always keep the peace. There were days I would stay right on Grandma’s heels as she cooked. She prepared meals so effortlessly. Even when I would string questions back to back, she would never break stride. She seemed to enjoy the company and sharing her secrets with me. I imagined that Mommy did the same when she was my age and that I reminded her of when Mommy was younger. I wanted to be a great cook like Grandma; I wanted to be proud of my home. However, there was no part of me that wanted cooking and cleaning to be my main purpose.

  The summers spent in Michigan with Grandpa and Grandma was always enjoyable. Shanna was not allowed to be mean to me, which made it even better. Usually for the last week, we were there Daddy and Mommy would come to visit. It was always such a bittersweet time as it was great to have us all together, but sad also since it meant that our visit was coming to an end. Shanna would usually accompany Grandpa and Daddy on their fishing trip, while I would stay behind and hang out with Grandma and Mommy. They both would take time out the day to take care of them. It was so rare that I felt like I had to tag along and see it happen in person. We would do all kinds of girly things such as shop, get our nails done, and get new hair dos. There were even times, when they would just sit on the porch with a pitcher of lemonade and talk for hours. I never joined in the conversation, but enjoyed watching them let loose. The time spent with Grandpa and Grandma was such a wonderful time for us all. My grandfather on Daddy’s side had passed before I was born and my memories of his mother were virtually nonexistent since she had passed when I was four years old. Since he lost his parents, Grandpa had really taken Daddy under his wing. It worked out well for both. Daddy got to spend time with a father figure and Grandpa was able to spend time with the son he never had. Summers made me realize how special families were and how important it was to have them around. The time with my grandparents brought out so much happiness in all of us, even Shanna. It was this kind of feeling I wanted to have with my family one day. I wanted my future children to visit with Daddy and Mommy and feel the same love and excitement as I did.

  The trip back home was always pretty difficult for all of us. Grandma would always stay home when it was time for Grandpa to drive us to the airport. We couldn’t all fit in the car, which I believe was convenient for Grandma who always became tearful during our goodbye hugs. Mommy was a pro at keeping it together during this time. I would always watch intently after she would hug Grandma tightly, waiting to see some form of emotion from her. She would never cry though, but that carefree and happy smile she wore for the week was gone. The ride to the airport was somber. It was pretty much silent with occasional small talk between Grand
pa and Daddy, and of course Grandpa yelling at other drivers. Mommy would stare out the window the whole time, while Shanna would fidget nervously. I wouldn’t cry until it was time to hug Grandpa Goodbye at the airport.

  I was always thankful to have Daddy and Mommy on the plane ride home. Takeoff didn’t nearly seem as bad with Daddy holding my hand. The plane rides home seemed to last forever. It was time to put us back in the mindset of going back to our everyday lives. Daddy would go back to working long days and traveling frequently. Mommy would go back to her routine days of cooking, cleaning, and living quietly in the family shadows. School would be starting back in a week for Shanna and me. In the meantime, Shanna would spend the bulk of this time in her room only coming out to eat, shower, or open the door to let her friends in. Then there was me. I would go back to doing my own thing. Though this was the norm for our family, I always felt a sense of discomfort with this set up. It definitely wouldn’t be the dynamic of my future family.

  ∞∞∞

  I had my wedding planned when I was eight years old. One day after school on a warm Friday afternoon in March, I was riding the bike I had just received for my birthday and noticed a U-Haul truck parked at the end of street. As I rode to the back of the truck, I heard grunting as I saw mounds of dark brown curls attempting to pull the “SOLD” sign out of the grass. Underneath the curls was a boy that was just a little taller than me, but I gathered to be around my age. I stood and watched him for a while before hopping off my bike and helping him uproot the sign. As he turned to face me, he seemed a little shocked by my presence. After a few minutes of awkward silence, he mumbled, “I could’ve done it by myself where’d you come from anyway?”

  “I was riding my bike by silly.” I couldn’t help but giggle.

  He seemed really shy, never really making eye contact. Instead he stared at his sneakers mumbling. “Well thanks, I gotta go inside now.”

  As he made a beeline for his front door, I stood and watched him for a while, thrilled that there was someone in the neighborhood that was my age. I made the decision to come back by the next day to see if maybe he would want to ride bikes with me.

  I spent that evening trying to come up with boy activities that I could invite him to. I even thought about making him an invitation and leaving it in his mailbox until it dawned on me then that I didn’t even know his name. I also didn’t know his favorite color or anything that I could decorate the envelope with. I thought about riding my bike over to ask if he was allowed to come to one of my tea parties, but no, that wouldn’t work either. Daddy was very clear in explaining to me that tea parties were for girls. What else was left? Maybe riding our bikes, but Shanna told me before that it was boring unless you have specific place to go. Then it hit me! We could ride our bikes to the creek that ran behind the townhomes the next street over. I had never been, but I had heard that there were frogs, turtles, and all types of gross animals that boys like. Perfect! It was set and though it wasn’t exactly what I would choose to do, it was a way to get him to want to play with me. I went to sleep that night with a big grin on my face as I tossed and turned in anticipation of finally having a companion.

  The next day I had butterflies all through breakfast. I wanted to share my exciting news with Mommy since I was sure she noticed that I couldn’t sit still. However, she never asked so I decided to keep it to myself. I figured I’d better wait until lunchtime to head over to his house, which left a few hours after breakfast to figure out activities to keep me occupied. Watching TV was my first idea, but nothing held my attention for more than a few minutes. I tried drawing him a picture, but ended up ripping it up in fear that he would find it too girly. In exasperation I threw myself on the couch and closed my eyes to just take time to think. I thought about how the day would go, what I would say, and how I thought he would react. I didn’t mean to, but I dozed off and awoke to the sound of Mommy vacuuming. I jumped up frantically and darted to the kitchen to look at the clock. How long had I been asleep? It was such a sigh of relief when I saw that it was just after 1pm. Still early! I made my way to the bathroom to fix my hair and noticed that I had wrinkled my shirt by sleeping on it. Rather than wasting more time changing shirts, I decided to tuck it in and made my way out the door.

  The bike ride took far longer than it should have. I was so nervous that I had to stop twice in an attempt to get my legs to stop shaking. When I arrived back to the house the U-Haul was no longer there and there was no one outside. I expected him to be out front again and didn’t take the time to plan out what I would say if I had to ring the doorbell. As I stood out by their driveway contemplating my next move, a lady came out of the house. I could instantly tell that it was his mother. He looked just like her. They both had big brown curls and the same exact eyes. When she noticed me sitting on my bike she gave a welcoming smile and motioned for me to come closer.

  “Well hi there, are you looking for Jacob?”

  Jacob? Was that his name? I imagined his name would be Michael or Steven or maybe even James, but it was Jacob. I guess Jacob was a nice name.

  “Yes I am. I was coming by to see if maybe he wanted to ride bikes with me.” As she invited me in, she seemed a lot like Mrs. McCleary. She was friendly and smiled a lot.

  “You will have to excuse the mess. We are just moving here from Georgia and still have a lot of boxes to unpack.” I had ridden by the house many times, but had never been inside. It looked pretty similar to ours though.

  “Well, I know he’s around here somewhere, probably wrapped up in a video game.” As we made our way to what I presumed was their den, I once again saw those curls. There he was just as his mom said, glued to the TV, playing a video game.

  “Ah-ha! There you are. Jacob honey, you have a visitor.” As Jacob turned around, we made eye contact for a brief second, before his eyes focused on an imaginary spot on the ground.

  “Jacob, honey, aren’t you going to say hi to.” Jacob’s mom started as she turned to me to introduce myself.

  “Cheryl. Hi I’m Cheryl Atkins and I live just down the street.” I said as proudly as I could. I hoped sounding cheerful and confident would make Jacob loosen up a little. No such luck, he still stood in the same spot nervously digging his foot into the ground. His eyes had moved from the ground though and he was now staring at my wrinkled shirt that had come out from being tucked in my shorts. The silence was so awkward that it seemed as though his mom did not know what to say. Finally, I built up the courage to speak. “Would you like to ride bikes with me Jacob? I could show you the neighborhood.”

  “That sounds like a great idea Jacob. You need a break from this television and the fresh air will do you some good.”

  “OK”, Jacob responded. It was a monotone response that made it hard to determine if he really wanted to go and didn’t want to show it or if he agreed to get his mom off his back. Either way I was thrilled that he agreed. As I sat in the kitchen, waiting for Jacob to get ready, I couldn’t help but smile. I had asked a boy out and he agreed. Shanna hadn’t even reached the point of asking a boy out yet. I was rather proud of myself.

  Jacob met me in the kitchen with different clothes, sneakers, and an Atlanta Braves hat on. The thought of him liking baseball as much as Daddy did made me so excited that I wanted to give him my best bear hug. I was able to hold back since he still seemed so nervous and continued to stare at the ground.

  “Are you ready now?” I asked.

  “I guess.” He responded and we were off.

  His mom was back on the porch as we were leaving. She had pulled Jacob’s bike out for him and as she tried to wipe something off his face, which made him turn bright red out of embarrassment.

  “Cut it out Mom!”

  It was then that I finally heard what his voice sounded like outside the few monotone responses he had given. To spare him further embarrassment, I turned my back and headed towards my bike that was lying in the grass. This also gave me a few moments to get myself together. I was so nervous and the close
r I got to my bike, I could feel my legs start to shake. I could hear Jacob and his mom having a brief conversation as he got on his bike and within moments we were off. We headed off towards the creek, with Jacob riding just behind me, which was fine since it kept the pressure from having an awkward conversation. I turned around only once to see those brown curls sticking out of his hat and for once, he was actually looking up; then again, I guess he really didn’t have a choice if he wanted to see the road ahead. Jacob had the largest eyes I had ever seen. They were light brown and he also had very long eyelashes. He seemed so adorable to me; he reminded me of a baby doll. Comparing him to a baby doll made me giggle to myself. I had to make myself turn back around to avoid crashing. I was sure he would ask what I was staring at or why I was giggling, but he didn’t. He didn’t make a sound. In fact, the only noise was the squeaky wheel on Jacob’s bike. I wanted to tell him that Daddy could fix it so that it didn’t make so much noise, so I slowed down so that we would be riding side by side. However, the more I slowed down, the more Jacob slowed down and after three attempts, I gave up.

  The ride to the creek took about ten minutes. I immediately felt icky when I got off my bike thinking about everything that was crawling around. Jacob sat on his bike and seemed just as unsure about the area as I did.

  “Well what do you think?” I asked

  “Of what? It seems like a regular ole creek to me.”

  “Well yeah silly, but you’re a boy. All boys like creeks, frogs, and bugs right?”