She groans as if she’s exasperated with me, but we both know that’s not true. If that was possible, she would’ve hit the limit last week. But here we are.
I put on my winter gloves to protect my hands during this procedure. They’re not exactly the leather bad boys the people on the how-to videos used, but it’s all I have. Sometimes, you have to make what you have work.
Besides, I’m never buying those ugly things.
I pierce the metal with the tip of a knife, then use the scissors to remove the top and bottom of the can. Then I cut a line straight down the side, and it springs open but holds its shape.
“Fine,” Pearl says, sighing. “Do you want to know the truth?”
“The truth? Have you been lying to me? I thought we were friends, Pearl,” I joke.
“I want to sell this damn thing because I don’t want my kids to have it when I die. Okay? That’s the truth.”
Well, this took a turn. I wrangle the can flat and then place a cast-iron skillet on top of it.
The sun hovers over the tree line, filling the kitchen with the last rays of warmth for the day. The week has flown by. There have been so many meetings to discuss how to handle the increase in popularity ofGianna Knows Things. I’ve received dozens of requests to visit other podcasts, I was asked to speak at a conference for women in business, and I heard something today about being asked to do a reality show where they treat you like military recruits. Juni showed me a clip over lunch today. I’m pretty sure that I can handle it—I have iced water in my veins—but the screaming in my face would do me in.
I’d punch a motherfucker for that.
“I want the tree to go to someone who will love it,” she says, sniffling. “That dumb old thing means a lot to me, and I figure if someone paid good money for it, they’d take care of it.”
“Can I ask why you don’t want your kids to have it?” It’s none of my business, but she roped me into this mess. Sharing the tea is the least she can do to make up for the time she’s cost me with her haggling. “Shouldn’t the things you love most become an heirloom or at least a family keepsake?”
“One would think. But my kids don’t want my old junk, even if my old junk mattered to me. They’ll just throw it away when they clean out my house once I’m dead and gone, and it just hurts my heart to know that. I’d rather it be loved.”
The thing has been kept in a barn for years. It’s covered in mildew. Pieces are broken off it.If it’s so loved, why is it in such sad shape?
I start to work on the orange can. “Won’t you just be helping them clear out your shit and turn it into cash for them?”
“No.” She cackles and it’s clear that once upon a time, Pearl was a smoker. “Me and Jeretta, she’s an old hag that I met playing Bunco a few years back, we’re taking one of those SKI holidays.”
She’s going skiing?“Pearl, I didn’t have you pegged to be such an outdoorswoman.”Especially at your age. Don’t you risk breaking a hip?
“Not skiing. A SKI holiday. Spending kids’ inheritance holiday.”
“Oh,” I say, laughing so hard I snort.
“They’re ungrateful—and mean. These kids are downright hateful. They steal from me. They tried to sell my house out from under me. Got me to sign some papers while I was in the hospital and didn’t know what I was doing.”
I frown. “I’m sorry they’re nasty.”
“Me, too. But I’ll get the last laugh because there’ll be nothing left, which is why Jeretta and I want to go on a cruise. We want to do one of those adults-only trips so we don’t have to listen to crying babies. And who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some nice old fellers with working peckers, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh, my gosh,” I say, laughing. “But, yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes a girl needs a good working pecker.”
Boy, do I know all about that.
I slip the orange can beneath the skillet and then begin on the green one.
Drake and I had lunch together every day this week. A couple of the days, we ran to Stupey’s because it’s so close, and the others we had food delivered to the office and ate in the break room. We learned from Scott in IT that there’s an office pool going around about how long we’ll stay together. The closest person to the right date wins two hundred bucks.
Our experiment has brought a new levity to the office, and it’s been fun joking around with everyone, but it’s been even more fun hanging out with Drake. I feel like I’ve gained a new friend, and my life is better for it.
When I date a guy, it’s usually good for a while. It always feels performative, though, like I’m playing a role until the show stops. The funny thing about that is, with Drake, I am playing a role. I’m pretending to be his girlfriend. Yet this is the only role I’ve ever played that feels … natural. And I’m thoroughly enjoying myself. How ironic.
“You know what, Pearl?” I ask, squashing the split green can with a dutch oven. Then I grab the red one.
“What?”
