Almost every milestone in my life is in some way attached to mygrandparents’ house. First steps? Four right down the main hallway. First lost tooth? Stuck in a caramel apple Nonna had waiting for us in the kitchen after trick-or-treating. First kiss? Jason McAfee, who was friends with my cousin Charlie and Wes from next door, in the attic playing spin the bottle in eighth grade.
So when it was time to fill out the senior questionnaire, there was no question where we would gather.
“Okay, does everyone have a pencil?” Nonna asks from her spot at the head of the table.
Next to me, Charlie pats his chest several times, then scans the floor. “I’ve lost mine.”
Nonna rolls several to me. “Olivia, please pass these to Charlie and anyone else who may need one.”
Charlie tests each one I give him before settling on the one he wants, then puts the extras in the middle of the table.
“Is it weird I’m doing this?” our cousin Sophie asks. “I mean, I’m glad I’m here, but it’s not like I have anyone to turn this in to.”
“You’ll turn it in to me and I’ll keep it with the others,” Nonna answers, pointing toward the fabric-covered box sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter. Then she winks at Wes, who is sitting next to Sophie, across the table from me. “I want a copy of yours, too.”
Wes beams and scratches his full name at the top of his sheet, then sits poised and ready for Nonna to start.
Uncle Sal is leaning against the counter on the far side of the kitchen, a piece of paper, rumpled and stained, dangling from his fingers. “If the twins aren’t here in the next five minutes, we’re starting without them.”
Nonna glances at the clock, then at the back door, before looking at Sal. “Maggie Mae said they would be here.”
Uncle Sal rolls his eyes and goes back to his phone.
In this family, my grandmother has the final word. And filling out the questionnaire is no different.
Our high school seems to pride itself on traditions as much as she does. When this first started fifty-eight years ago, there were only a few basic questions for seniors:Will you go to college? If so, where? What is your dream job?But the questionnaire has taken on a life of its own. Now the school wants to know your favorite memory and your most embarrassing one, your favorite charity and one thing about the world you wish you could change, and on and on and on. The answers are shared across the big white screen that hangs from the ceiling while we march one by one in cap and gown. Nonna has kept a copy of every sheet every member of our family has ever completed. And since all of us, except Sophie and her older sister, Margot, graduated from the same high school, she has a sheet on everyone.
And now it’s A Thing. A thing that once a year becomes part of Sunday family supper. A thing where the current seniors fill it out in front of everyone and then we compare it to our parents’ answers. And our aunts’ and uncles’ answers. And our cousins’ answers.
You get the point.
Sophie might not have to do it for her school, but she has to do it for Nonna, just like Margot did. And since Wes is an honorary member of this family, there was no way he was getting out of it either.
Not that they feel especially put out. In fact, they seem downright tickled to be here. Or maybe it’s because they’re always tickled to be with each other, no matter what the activity is or where we are.
While Nonna looks at Sophie and Wes as a testament to her brilliant scheming, the rest of us are terrified she’ll feel the need to interfere anytime we are the least bit unsettled. I went to great lengths to hide my breakup with Drew for fear she’d resurrect the dating game she played last Christmas. Uncle Michael hasn’t been home for a visit since then, as he is the last unwed sibling and is horrified at the thought of what Nonna would do to find him the perfect husband.
The back door bangs open and Aunt Maggie Mae rushes through with the Evil Joes right behind her, followed by Uncle Marcus and the younger twins, Frankie and Freddie. Mary Jo and Jo Lynn are dressed in matching linen dresses, one in pale pink and the other in pale purple, their dark hair straight and slick, as if they are immune to the humidity.
Charlie does a quick sweep of the table and I can see the second it occurs to him where the only empty chairs are.
He leans close. “Switch with me.” Charlie started calling our twin cousins Mary Jo and Jo Lynn the “Evil Joes” when we were twelve and they pulled a prank on him in Florida in front of some cute girls. Honestly, he was a little old to still be wearingStar Warsbriefs. But because he was a member of the Fab Four with Sophie, Wes, and me, we had to back him up.
And Charlie is right—Evil Joes are evil.
I shake my head and grip the edges of my chair in case he decides to push me out. “Not happening.”
“There’s a guy with them,” Wes whispers from across the table.
We all swivel toward where Aunt Maggie Mae and Uncle Marcus are sitting across the room, but I can’t see who is with them because Uncle Ronnie is in the way.
“Is it one of the boyfriends?” I ask even though I know it’s not, since Wes would recognize them. Aiden and Brent, the Joes’ boyfriends, were invited to this but declined. That was a very stressful moment in the group text because very few people tell Nonna no.
Uncle Ronnie moves closer to Aunt Patrice, finally revealing the stranger in our midst.
The unknown guy standing next to Aunt Maggie Mae is tall with dark hair that sticks out in big, fat curls. He’s wearing a faded tee and an even more faded pair of jeans that hang a little loose on his hips. He looks like he belongs hiking up a trail somewhere or maybe catching some waves or anywhere outdoors. He absolutely does not look comfortable in this crowded kitchen, wedged between my aunt and uncle.
He scans the room and I feel it when his attention lands on me. There’s just a hint of a smile on his face, and I swear I know him. My mind is shuffling through the alphabet, testing out names beginning with each letter, hoping something pops.
