Jillian kept chewing but Cat could tell she was listening.
“Overnight, everything changed.I had to leave my house and my school and my friends and move in with my grandmother in Kalamazoo.I’d always loved visiting her, but it was different living there full-time.I hated it.And”—Cat took a deep breath—“I hated her.”
Jillian’s head jerked up, her attention fully on Cat now as she continued.
“It wasn’t my grandma’s fault that someone had been drinking and ran a red light and crashed into my parents’ car.It wasn’t my grandma’s fault that they both died.All I knew was that I wanted my life the way it was, and it wasn’t that way anymore.It couldn’t be that way anymore and so I blamed her because she was there.”
“But it was your dad’s mom,” Jillian said.“She lost her son, right?”
“Yes.But at that time, with the pain I felt, I didn’t care.I just wanted her to leave me alone.Obviously, she couldn’t, but that didn’t stop me from being horrible to her.”
Jillian’s forehead puckered.“What did you do?”
“I yelled.Threw things.Broke things.Said really mean things.”Cat looked down at her empty plate and felt the old shame return.“But my grandmother was a rock, and in hindsight, probably close to a saint because she loved me through it.She loved me even when I was my most unlovable.She understood I was hurting, and she did her best to be there for me.But yes, she was hurting, too, and I don’t know how she got through her grief, but every day she got up, and loved me, and did her best to keep me safe and make sure I had the life my parents would have wanted for me.”
Tears welled in Jillian’s eyes.“That’s so sad.”
“I’m ashamed that I wasn’t kinder to her, but my grandmother’s steadiness and love showed me what love was, and it’s why I was able to do well in school and go to college on a good scholarship—”
“My dad did that,” Jillian interrupted.“He was poor too.If he didn’t get scholarships, he couldn’t have gone to the schools he did, and he wouldn’t have become a doctor.”
Suddenly Cat wanted to cry.Suddenly, the weight of the last few days made her heart ache for all of them.Life was not easy.Life was filled with loss.But it was also full of beauty and hope—and love—if one just looked for it.
Cat was still looking for it.“It’s okay to get mad,” Cat said quietly.“It’s okay to be sad and frustrated.Everyone has emotions.The key thing is to not get stuck in anger or frustration.We have to find ways to move through.”
For a moment, Jillian said nothing then she looked up at Cat.“Are you telling me this because of what I’ve said to you?”
“I’m telling you this so you know I understand that it’s hard when parents divorce and the world you knew, and loved, changes.It’s hard when you feel abandoned, and no longer safe, not the way you once did.It’s okay to grieve for what you lost.In fact, if you don’t grieve, you might find it harder to feel better later.”
Jillian processed this for several moments.“So, who is your family now?Now that your grandmother is gone?”
Cat’s eyes burned, hot and gritty.
She forced a smile to keep her own intense emotions in check.“I don’t really have anyone.My mom grew up in foster care, and her biological parents never wanted to meet her.My dad was an only child.For years, it was just my grandma and me.”
“And now it’s just you?”Jillian said slowly.
Cat kept smiling even as her eyes stung and a lump filled her throat.“Yeah, but it’s okay.Someday, I’ll meet someone and get married and have a family of my own.”
Jillian nodded.“You’ll be a good mom someday.”
“Thank you.”Cat laughed and rose, gathering their plates.“But just not in your family, right?”
Laughing, Jillian stood up and pushed her chair into the table.“Right.”
Cat flashed her a smile because Jillian did have a wicked sense of humor, and Cat appreciated it more than Jillian knew.
“Do you want help?”the girl asked awkwardly, glancing at the sink, the plates, and the broiling pan.
Another small victory, Cat thought, even as she shook her head.“No, I’ve got it.I’m just going to fold the rest of the laundry on the table in here.Find something fun to do.”
Jillian disappeared, and Cat quickly washed up the dishes, put away the butter and cheese, and tucked the bread back into the bread box even as she mulled over dinner and the time spent with Jillian.Jillian was a very bright, perceptive girl, and Cat knew this was why the girl was fighting so hard for control, and to retain some control over her family dynamics.Cat related, maybe too well.Tonight, the conversation had been meaningful, maybe even valuable, but it also touched the old, half-healed places inside her.
When she dumped the clean towels on the table to fold, Cat discovered her hands were trembling.
Being here, doing these small domestic things, reminded her of Michigan… of home.Not the house itself, but the feeling of it—the kitchen with its scuffed hardwood floor and the warm scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and coffee.Her father packing lunches, while her mother flipped her famous French toast.Her parents always talking, teasing, moving around each other with easy affection.For Cat, their love, their connection was the definition of family.The small, ordinary rituals that created structure, comfort, and a sense of belonging.
It was what she wanted for herself again.It was a life she craved, but only if it was right… if only if she found the right person.
