Free One Man Show by John J. Bonk Page B

me.
    “Shucks, no,” I said in my best hick voice. I finished the rest of it in my head.
This ain’t one of dem fancy-shmancy Hollywood birthday shindigs, where people bring gifts and wear shoes and everythang.
    We left our plates on the porch step and followed Aunt Birdie into the living room. Granny was surrounded by packages and
     was sitting in the middle of the couch on her “sweet spot” - the sunken-in part where she always sat.
    “Well, where’ve you two been hiding?” Granny said, ripping a sticky-bow off a present and slapping it onto her dress. “I never
     did get my birthday hug from the TV boy.”
    She held out her arms and Jeremy was forced into giving her a lingering hug. He drifted to the other side of the room after
     that, and I plopped down on the couch next to Granny. She had her usual rubbing-alcohol smell, but with the added aroma of
     old mothballs.
Yep, Jeremy’ll be taking that scent home with him as a little souvenir.
    “What am I going to do with another pair of slippers?”Granny said, tossing aside one of her gifts. “Wool sweaters give me hives.” “Never could stand pink.” She’d definitely lost
     the knack of faking delight about a rotten present. But when she opened mine, she snorted and said, “Oh, now that is cute!”
     It was a T-shirt that read, “I’m not over the hill, I’m still climbing it. That’s why I’m so tired all the time.” She kissed
     me on the cheek and held the T-shirt up for everyone to see. Aunt Birdie, who’d been taking flash pictures of Granny opening
     each gift, went snap-happy.
    “Birdie, will you put that darn thing away?” Granny said, pulling a long, flimsy scarf out of a box. “I’m already half-blind
     in my right eye. Now I’m seeing spots.”
    “Those are polka dots, Ma,” Birdie said.
Snap.
“And you’ll thank me later.”
    “I’ll thank you to go throw that thing in the lake!”
    “Well, that’s everything,” Aunt Olive said, gathering Granny’s gifts. “You got a lot of nice things, Ma.”
    “Wait, here’s another card, Mother Grubbs,” Mr. Ortega said, picking up a pink envelope off the floor and handing it to Granny.
     “It must’ve fallen.”
    Mother Grubbs?
    “Oh, that came in the mail for you today,” Aunt Birdie said. “No return address.”
    “Who sent it?” Granny asked, putting on her glasses.
    “Open it and see,” I said.
    Granny tore through the envelope, pulled out the card, andopened it. She read it to herself, glaring as if it were written in Swahili, then slowly slid it back into the envelope.
    “Well, who’s it from?” Aunt Birdie asked. “Tammy’s House of Beauty?”
    “No,” Granny mumbled.
    “Well, who?” Aunt Olive asked.
    “It’s from your brother.”
    “Teddy?” my aunts both said, looking at each other.
    That’s “Teddy” as in “Theodore,” as in “Dad.”
    My heart just about froze in my chest. Mom’s hand flew up to cover her mouth and Aunt Birdie collapsed into a chair.
I thought this wasn’t supposed to be a surprise party!
Everyone stopped chattering, stopped chewing, and stared at the card as if it were about to explode.
    “You can just throw that in the lake too,” Granny said, and flung the card onto the pile of scrunched-up wrapping paper.
    The front door flew open and a green-haired Gordy bolted into the room, dragging his new orange-haired girlfriend, Edith.
     This one came complete with a dog collar, a thorn tattoo, and so many piercings that her head looked like a miniature-golf
     course.
    “Cool,” Gordy said, heading for the dining-room table. “There’s still cake.”
    He hacked out a piece of cake and shoved half into his mouth and the other half into Edith’s. The whole room cringed.
    “What?” Gordy grunted.
    That was pretty much the cherry on the trailer-trash sundae. Jeremy was the first to cut out after that. I couldn’t resist
     asking him if he wanted a piece of cake to go. Naturally, he passed. I snuck out of the party early