“It’s your right to throw your education away, Andrew, but Idraw the line at being late for lunch.” She was teasing him about lunch, but the education part? He knew he’d be hearing about that for the rest of his life.
The Dlaminis were staying in London for the holidays and his grandparents had planned their itinerary around all the restaurants on their must-try list. Today’s reservation was Akoko, a place in Fitzrovia they’d picked for its West African food and Michelin star. It was too upscale to be the setting for another family argument. So, when Drew walked into the warm, dimly lit restaurant, he headed straight to his family’s table. He hugged his grandma, an elegant woman in her seventies who wore her Sunday best on every occasion. Then he accepted a customary nod from his grandpa, a man who was technically retired but visited the accountancy firm he owned once a week and never left the house without a suit and a business proposal.
“So, I spoke to the guys at the firm, and they said they could find a place for you in January,” his grandpa said before Drew could even reach for a menu. He was trying to be supportive and use his connections to get Drew a job. But the pained expression on his face made it clear that, while he’d taken the advice he’d read in all theMy grandchild is throwing his life away. What should I do?articles he found on the internet, he was still reckoning with Drew’s newfound status as a dropout.
“A job and some structure will be good for you. You’re smart, so you’ll adjust quickly,” Grandpa said, reaching out to pat Drew’s back. Affection didn’t come easily to him, but ever since Drew had dropped the news that he wouldn’t be returning to USC or California after winter break, everyone had been treating him with kid gloves.
“Just don’t make any more rash decisions,” his grandma pitched in, running her hands through the silk press she’d been wearing since the seventies. She took a sip of her wine, gave himher classicI have an ideasmile, and aimed her lifelong commitment to fixing things at her grandson. There was no issue she couldn’t solve with a good plan.
“I have a friend on the board of your university. Do you remember Betsy? The sweet lady you met at your cousin’s graduation? Well, Betsy still owes me a favor from nineteen eighty-two. I’m sure she could help you reenroll by the spring.”
Drew’s grandpa enthusiastically nodded. “I was looking up the guidelines last night, and I think you still have thirty days before the decision is finalized, so it’s not the end of the world, Andrew.”
But itwasthe end of that chapter of Drew’s life, because he wasn’t going to change his mind. He’d reeled off a list of fake excuses to explain himself. Said he wasn’t enjoying his time at USC, argued that he didn’t need a degree to become a professional photographer, even went as far as to say that he missed Wisconsin. But his reason for dropping out was simple.
His grandma had Alzheimer’s.
He’d found out on Thanksgiving. It was his favorite holiday, so he always left college for the weekend to take the trip back home. Usually, he woke up on Thursday to the smell of a roasting turkey, the sound of old gospel music, and the sight of the expensive plates and cutlery she reserved for special occasions. But when he’d woken up, the only sound in the house had been the voice of his panicked grandpa calling up everyone they knew. Because Grandma had disappeared.
Her shoes were gone, her phone left behind. The turkey was prepped and the oven was on, but the door was left ajar, the heat filling up the kitchen in a way that made it clear it had been like that for hours.
His sister, Thandie, wasn’t due to come home until the evening. So, he and his grandpa spent the morning and afternoondriving around town. Trawling the streets and calling up friends and family to ask if they’d seen her—with no success.
When a police car rolled up to their front porch at around four p.m., the time she’d usually be making the final touches to dinner, Drew ran outside. Two officers got out and opened the back door to reveal their passenger: Grandma. She was shaken but indignant, determined to tell them she’d taken a walk on purpose, even though they all knew she’d gotten lost. It was only then that Grandpa sat him down and explained everything he’d missed out on while he was at school. The diagnosis, the symptoms. How things were progressing faster than either of them had anticipated. He allowed Drew to ask a flurry of questions under one condition: He couldn’t tell Thandie. She’d just come out of recovery, was in the midst of a stressful season at work, and nobody wanted to make it worse. So, the three of them decided to keep it a secret from her until the spring.
So, they drove to the grocery store and made a meal of freezer-aisle dishes. When Thandie finally got home that night, they blamed their not-so-traditional meal on a faulty oven. They couldn’t afford to let her know the truth.
At the end of the weekend, Drew took his scheduled flight back to USC, where he spent days trying to come up with a list of reasons to stick it out until graduation. The cost of tuition, the two and a half years he’d already invested, and the fact that all the best career opportunities were in California. But in the end, it came down to a simple question: What was the point of staying at college when his favorite person in the world needed him?
So Drew decided to go back home and spend as much time with her as he possibly could. Even if that meant leaving college in the middle of his junior year. So, he’d dropped out of USC, packed his things, and moved back to his hometown in time for Christmas. Madison, Wisconsin, was smaller than he’dremembered; the walls of his bedroom were still covered in posters from high school, and he’d long outgrown his twin-sized bed. But he’d felt an immediate sense of relief to be back home.
“We just want you to know that it’s never too late to go back,” his grandma said now, looking over at her husband and tapping his shoulder. The two of them exchanged a look that made it obvious that they’d already talked about this and, after a moment, his grandpa’s tense expression gave way to softness.
“We just want the best for you,” his grandpa said, his voice stilted like the line was rehearsed. It definitely was, because his grandma was not so subtly mouthing the words along with him. Drew stifled a laugh. His grandparents had been doing this tag-team parenting since he was a little kid. But as pure as their intentions were, Drew was too far gone.
“I’m not changing my mind,” he said, opening his menu as his grandpa gave him a look. His grandpa had reassured Drew that he could take care of his grandma without his help. Drew didn’t believe him. They’d gone back and forth for hours, disagreeing about pretty much everything except the fact that his grandma couldn’t know that she was the reason why Drew had left college behind.
“But you worked so hard, Andrew. I just can’t believe you would throw it all away.” His grandpa was now using thenot angry, just disappointedvoice.
“I worry about you, you know,” his grandma said, looking at him like he was a little kid. Her affection was almost too much to bear. “We’re not going to be around forever. So, we need to know you’ll be stable and secure when we’re gone.”
Drew studied the lines around her mouth earned by years of laughter, the proud grays in her hair, and the warmth in her eyes. Heknewshe wasn’t going to be around forever. There wasn’t asingle day he didn’t think about it. But he couldn’t tell her that. It was easier to let her think he was throwing his life away than admit he’d moved back home to help take care of her. So, he tried to change the conversation.
“Think of it this way: Me being back home for a while means I’ll finally get around to putting together all those albums you’ve been asking about,” Drew said. His grandma lit up at that, and began a monologue about the family photos she wanted to print out while his grandpa quizzed an unsuspecting waiter about the origins of all the items on the menu. Drew was about to decide between a Domoda stew and a jollof rice bowl when his phone rang.
He looked down at the caller ID and sighed in relief.Thandie.He excused himself from the table, answered the phone, and walked as far away from his grandparents’ table as he possibly could.
“I can’t believe you left me to handle family dinner by myself,” he said as soon as he stepped out of the restaurant. Thandie appeared on the screen, power-walking through the streets with her hair pulled into a tightly braided ponytail.
“How badly is it going? Do you need me to run over and provide some comedic relief?” she asked as she crossed a tree-lined street Drew recognized from his own walk to the restaurant.
“It’s… not going well,” Drew admitted.
“Has Grandpa offered you a job at the firm yet?” Thandie asked knowingly. He’d been trying and failing to get one of his grandkids to become an accountant since they were kids.
“Yeah, we’ve already had thewe can pull strings to get you inconversation.”
“It’s because you spend too much time with them,” Thandie laughed. She was right, they’d both moved out of state to stop their grandparents from getting too involved with their lives.“Love them, but you need to get some distance or else every conversation becomes about the life they think you should be living,” she said with the easy detachment of a youngest child.
