She had my mom when she was just eighteen years old, and my mom had me when she was also eighteen. It’s like a twisted rite of passage in our family for generations now: get pregnant at eighteen by some guy who promises love and forever, then get dumped to raise the baby alone.
Thankfully, I’d managed to dodge that bullet now at my ripe age of twenty-eight. No pregnancy in sight, though not from a lack of trying with my ex. What I didn’t escape was the whole“marrying pieces of shit” part of our family curse. That one seems bent on teaching every woman in our family a hard lesson.
But Grandma’s sixty-four years old now. Does she really want to tie herself to another guy at this age? Right when she’s finally retired? I mean, why would you want to spend the last good decades of your life with aman?
I shiver at the thought.
“You said that last part out loud,” my grandmother snaps.
I clamp my mouth shut. “Oops.”
She sighs heavily. “I’m sixty-four, not one hundred. And I’m not anywhere close to my deathbed. I have so much life ahead of me still. Dreams of traveling and… love. And even if I was one hundred years old, I’d still be here, living in this home, dating Eduardo, and haunting you.”
“You finally admit there’s a ghost who lives here!” I snap my fingers as she shakes her head like I’m exhausting her. That’s okay, lately I’ve been exhausting myself too. Sometimes my inner-monologue sounds like a sad, romantic comedy where the woman gets left and doesn’t know how to move forward with her life, so she uses dark humor to mask her pain.
“Okay, so let’s get down to the nitty-gritty.” She moves on, ignoring my comment. “Eduardo’s moving in…” she says with a pleased smile and a gentle pat of her new ‘partners’hand.
“Okay…?”
“And you’re moving out.”
“Uh, what?”
She smiles wider and tightens her grip on Eduardo’s hand. That bastard has the nerve to smile right back at her like she hung the fucking moon. The man’s inlove, love.
Traitor. He saved my life just to ruin it in the same evening.
I shoot a glare at my grandma. I have nowhere else to go. How the hell am I supposed to find a place to live with my practically non-existent budget and mountain of divorce lawyer debt that I’m trying to pay off?
I bartend at the local bar in townBrookhaven Brewsoccasionally, but most days are spent at my new job that I literally just startedas a kindergarten teacher at the elementary school. Oh, and there’s my PI side gigs that help a bit, but still, I can’t afford to live on my own and keep up with the monthly checks I’m sending to my lawyer for likely the nextten freaking yearsuntil I’ve paid him off.
Damn you, Brian with your stupid promises.I shake my fist at the sky as if he can hear me.
“Mija, don’t shake your fist at God,” my grandma says.
“It was directed at Brian.”
She sighs heavily. “Brian’s not up there. If anything, he’d be below us.”
That makes me laugh. She never liked him either. I only moved in here because my mom said grandma was sick and needed help and that we could help each other while I tried to repair my life. The woman sitting in front of me now, clutching her lover’s hand, looking like she’s seconds away from dragging him to her bedroom isnotsick or injured. Not one bit at all.
I nervously tug at my skirt, trying to pull it lower. Yeah, I know five seconds ago I was complaining about living here with the ghost, incense and mothballs, but free is free. And right now, in my late twenties, hot-mess-of-a-life, still-figuring-it-out and freshly divorced phase, free or dirt cheap is exactly what I need. It’s my only choice.
“But grandma, I thought you needed my help?”
She waves me off. “That was a scheme that your mother and I came up with to get you out of that sinful city. You were so unhappy when your roommate kicked you out, and you needed a change of scenery that didn’t remind you of your ex-husband. We figured coming out to Brookhaven would give you a fresh start.”
My mother and her have always hated New York City.
“Can I have some time to find somewhere else to live?” I ask, voice a little shaky.
She smiles, nodding. “I’m not kicking you out today. I just want you to start looking. I love having you here in Brookhaven. Don’t take this as an excuse not to visit. I’d love for you to come by every day and for us to have lunch together. I’ve grown quite found of our dinners, too. And maybe you can bring your boyfriend over…”
I scoff because my grandma knows damn well that I don’t have a boyfriend.
“I don’t think I’ll have time for our lunches and dinners since I’ll need to pick up extra shifts to afford my rent and bills now.”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Don’t take this personally. It’s time for you to get out there, meet new people. Spread your wings. Your divorce is finalized. Find someone new to love or just have fun with. Staying here with me is enabling you.”
