Free Staying True - A Contemporary Romance Novel by Suzie Carr

spirited. So, I did. Every
Sunday I picked him up at his apartment and took him to Sunday mass where he
led me to the first pew, directly in front of the statue of Mother Mary, and
insisted that I pray for the entire half hour before mass began. After, we ate
our “unique” omelets, and then we got crazy and visited the senior center.
    Despite being weak, he still carried
his smile around for all to enjoy. The women, some ten years younger, sat next
to him and talked his hearing aid off. Some even envied me when Grampa would
pay more mind to me than them. They vied for his attention, and my grampa, God
love his good soul and wit, would wink at me and roll his eyes, as if saying
‘these freaking women are crazy.’
    He sipped his coffee, slurping it
like a little kid. His eyes puckered with each sip. “This is good stuff today.”
    I sipped mine with equal thought.
“Hmm.”
    We ate our omelets and drank one more
cup of coffee before I braced to ask for his help. I studied the situation. If
I asked him for a loan to hold me over, I’d repay it to him along with the
other three hundred I still owed him. “Grampa, can I ask you a favor?”
    He sat up taller, leaning in with his
good ear. “Yes, of course, dear.”
    His eyes twinkled. He loved being
needed. He always did. Loaning me money lifted his spirits and put a glow on
his face. “Can I borrow a little more money?”
    “Of course.” He dipped his head.
“I’ve still got some back in my apartment.” He leaned in and whispered. “I keep
the rest of it in my purple wool sock.”
    “Grampa, be careful who you say that
to. You don’t want someone taking advantage of you.”
    “Yes, dear.” He bowed his head like a
child.
    I reached out and cupped his cold
hands again. “We’re going to have fun today, you and me.”
    He looked up and beamed, showing off
his white dentures and beautiful smile. “What are we waiting for then?” He
jiggled his hands from mine and slid out of the booth anxious to have some fun.
    I lived for these moments. He needed
me just as much as I needed him.
    * *
    Once Bentley and Grampa reunited
without claws and scratches, I returned to my apartment with five hundred
dollars. Grampa had insisted the money needed spending. “It’s just sitting idle
doing nothing anyway,” he had said.
    I knocked on queen bee’s door and
handed her the money. “This isn’t gonna cut it,” she said. “I’ve already rented
the attic apartment.”
    “You just kicked me out last night.”
    “I’ve got bills to pay.” She slammed
the door in my face.
    I glanced at my yellow car, my new
temporary home, and surrendered to it.
    * *
    I zoomed down the interstate going
eighty on my way to nowhere. The open road scared me a little this day. My
heart pinched a little tighter. A strange and uncomfortable pain pulsed at my
temples. Suddenly, the horizon stretched out much too far with nothing in the
middle to cling to. I treaded alone in this open sea, fighting to stay afloat.
All that strength that I started out with vanished and left me panicked,
flapping my legs like a duck without a mission, pointing towards some far away
land that, for the first time in life, I feared I wouldn’t be able to reach.
    I pulled over to the side of the road
and sucked air into my lungs, willing it to end this dizzy spell. I turned on
the radio and breezed through commercial after commercial in search of a song,
a debate, a joke, something that would calm me. I landed on Bette Midler’s
“Wind Beneath My Wings.” I pulled over, closed my eyes, placed my hands on the
steering wheel and bowed into it, resting my heavy head.
    My mother’s pretty face flashed
before my eyes. She waved that spatula she always danced around the kitchen
with. Her bobbed haircut swung in unison. She loved Bette. I could see her,
singing along, sashaying her hips, flipping eggs and pancakes, asking me to
wipe the table down fast before my stepfather came down for breakfast.
    My mother mastered