“What are you cooking?It looks disgusting.Too bad you do not have the family recipe for biscuits and gravy.I make the best.Penelope, let’s paint before I go back to Butterfield,” Grandma Hartley said.
I don’t know why my grandma always picked on my mom.Her biscuits and gravy looked delicious.
My mom’s shoulders sank as she scrubbed at the pans in the sink, holding her tongue.
“Sorry,” I mouthed silently to my mom as I followed my grandma to gather up some acrylic paint, brushes, mason jars full of water, and some towels to help make our creative endeavors.
She guided me to her hidden closet full of chalky white ceramics made from numerous molds she had.I chose a frog sponge holder to paint, and she took out a container with a lid she wanted to design.Then we carried the supplies out onto the deck and dipped our brushes into the thick paint we poured onto an old tile that fell off the shower.Anything could be used as a paint pallet if you let it be.
“I’ve missed you.You have blossomed into quite a young lady.I assume you went to go see the preacher’s son the other day.I hope it was worth leaving our visit for,” Grandma Hartley said as she stabbed her brush into the tile, making the bristles spread out.
“I did see Darren, but I also went to the store to get James something.”
“Uh-huh.I see.Well, I thought I would do something with you since, as you have heard, I will be leaving shortly.My sister always likes to make things about her.It’s ridiculous I have to take care of her because she decided to intrude on my life.”
“I’m sorry you must leave.Thanks for letting us stay while you are gone.I really appreciate it.”
“Oh, well, you are a part of James’s life,” she said, painting the container a deep red.
I painted my frog with a base coat of green and went back in with a smaller brush to add flowers to its back.I liked adding little details that weren’t intended to be there in the first place.We painted for a while, listening to the woodpeckers and birds chirp.Occasionally, she would speak up and tell me another story from her past I already knew.
“Flowers on a frog?Interesting design choice.We better start cleaning up.I need to get going.Could you help me put everything into the car?You can leave yours here to dry, and the next time I come, I will glaze it and give it to you.I think I will put mine in the backseat of the car and take it with me.”
“No problem,” I said, holding in my breath.I loved my grandma.However, she had changed since I was a girl.The lady who sat beside me painting wasn’t as loving as she used to be.She wanted people to feel obligated to her, and I did.She was the one who owned the cabin.She was the one who held the keys to my favorite place on earth, and I wasn’t sure if I did things with her because I wanted to or if I felt like I had to.I know I used to enjoy our time together, painting, hearing about her past, and drinking tea, but I wasn’t the little girl mesmerized by her stories anymore.And she wasn’t a kind old lady who wanted a granddaughter.Sometimes, I thought that she expected everyone else to suffer because she was hurting.She was an anchor who sunk everyone and everything she came in contact with.
I helped my grandma get her bags loaded into her green Ford Escort, kissed her on the cheek, and sent her on her way.I barely escaped without her saying, “I’m getting too old for this.”I know I shouldn’t have felt glad she was leaving, yet a weight was lifted off my shoulders as she pulled out of the cabin’s driveway.
****
Iran back into thecabin to prepare for the day.I put on my new yellow crochet bikini top and bottoms my mom got from the discount rack.I layered my jean shorts on top of the bottoms and threw on a button-up shirt tied in the front.In the summer months, you had to be ready to go swimming no matter what.I banged my head up and down so my hair would have volume.Since my hair was naturally wavy, I did not do much to it.Then, I put on some silver hoop earrings and my silver anklet for the final touches.The anklet had little swirls down my foot, forming a toe ring.For some reason, I felt I was more powerful with that anklet.
The living room was empty.Taped to the fridge was a note left by my stepdad.The note read:
Penny,
I convinced your mom to go fishing.
We will be back tonight.I left some hotdogs in the fridge if you get hungry.Make sure to keep rocking.Love you.–James
I called out, “Fawn!Time to go!Come on!”
Fawn zoomed around the corner, wagging her tail a hundred miles per hour.
I petted her head as I said, “It’s time to see Darren.”I grabbed two shiny red Peppos from the fridge and went out the front door.
Fawn followed a couple of paces behind me.
When I arrived outside Darren’s house, drums and cymbals were clanging, girls were screeching, a hair dryer was blowing, and static echoed from the TV.I knocked on the door twice, waiting for someone to answer.When there was no luck, I went to the basement sliding door.Through the glass, I could see Darren holding his little sister with one arm in his lap and hitting the drums with his other.He moved his leg up and down as she giggled.Darren was an amazing brother to Doreen.He spent the most time with her since she was the youngest and needed the most attention.
I waved until he saw me and unlocked the door.
He said, “Hey, sorry about that.I couldn’t hear you.I was teaching Doreen how to play a song on the drums.My parents are out of town visiting another Preacher.Come on in.”Doreen’s hair was in two braids as she bounced around the house.
I sat on Darren’s parents’ pee-yellow couch.Fawn jumped on Darren and licked his leg with enough saliva to fill a pool.“Fawn, get down.So, you are home alone then?What are you going to do?Are you going to throw a rager?”
His little sister said, “Penny, what’s a Rag-er?”
I laughed so hard I snorted while Darren said, “Nothing you need to know about Dory.”I handed him the Peppo.He opened the can with a loud pop.“Thanks.I needed some sugar to keep me energetic,” he said, slurping down the cold can of soda.Darren loved any form of sugar and caffeine.He couldn’t survive without his daily dosage of sweets.
