movies. It’s now transformed with tables all along the wall for the food, and then round tables are set up all around with chairs. The middle of the room is left open for the dancing that is surely going to come. I follow Grandma to the table, and she points at the other table, so I walk over and put down the trays. I look around, seeing that the whole place looks so festive.
“Every year, I just get more blown away.” I hear my grandmother say and watch her look around the room. “I have to scope out who is going to be getting a special Christmas present.” She smiles at a couple of the guys who are around her. “Oh, I see a good one under the mistletoe.” I look at the direction she is looking at.
“There is no mistletoe,” I tell her, folding my arms over my chest.
She pulls one out of her pocket. “When life hands you lemons, you make lemonade.” She winks at me and walks away. I see her catch the guy who looks like a deer in the headlights, and then she just lays one on him. “Merry Christmas,” she tells him, then comes back over to me. “That should get his motors going.”
I shake my head, and five minutes later, the room is filled with people. We get in line to grab our meal, and I wish I could say I felt festive, but I don’t. I grab the turkey and stuffing and a biscuit, following Grandma over to a table. We sit with her friends as they tell stories about how everything has changed. I eat until I’m stuffed and get up to go get some pie. When I get back to the table, the music starts to play, and I see her friends getting up to go bust a move.
“Are you having a good time?” Grandma asks, sitting back in her chair.
“You know I always have a good time with you,” I say, smiling.
“Have you spoken to Miller?” she asks me, and I shake my head and blink away the tears that have struggled to stay inside all day. “Have you tried to call him?”
“No,” I say the truth. “Grandma, he blocked me.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” she tells me, and I look at her. “Okay, fine, I don’t know how those things work, but you can’t go on like this.” She puts her elbows on the table now. “You didn’t even take your divorce this bad.”
I shrug. “I think it’s time for a change,” I tell her, and she just looks at me. “My contract is almost up, and I was thinking …” I say, looking out at the dance floor that is full of people with their families celebrating. Kids dressed in their best clothing, running around chasing each other with balloons. Sons dancing with their mothers, and fathers dancing with their daughters. “I’m going to talk to someone about transferring.” She doesn’t say anything to me.
“Running away isn’t going to change anything,” she tells me, and now a tear does come out of my eye.
“It’s been a month, Grandma, and my chest still hurts when I think about him. It’s been a month that I wake up in tears. I just need a fresh start. I need to not say his name every single day. I need to not have to watch him on the television and have my heart break because I can’t talk to him or see him.” I look down at my pie, grabbing a napkin. “It’s just too much for me.”
“You think that if you move away, it’s going to be better?” she asks me. “You love him, baby girl. That love won’t go away.”
“I know,” I admit. “But it might make it a little easier. Maybe.”
“Well, wherever you go, I go,” she says, and I look at her, shocked. “You didn’t think I’d let you move away from me.”
“Your life is here,” I tell her, looking around.
She shrugs. “If we are being honest …” She looks around. “It’s slim pickings these days.”
I laugh now for the first time in a long time. “Why haven’t you gone to him?”
I shake my head. “You didn’t see the hurt in his eyes or the way he looked at me. Whatever he felt for me, it was gone the minute he found out I not only lied to him but I was also divorced..” I swallow. “He’s going to make a great husband,” I tell her,