I Need To Find My Way Back To The Start

“Uh… Grandma? How long should I set this timer?” I asked her. We were making baked ziti—one of the many courses of food she attempts to teach me—for dinner. Grandma’s a strong believer of women knowing how to cook everything under the sun and knowing exactly how to get a certain stain out of a shirt. Old-fashioned, like I’ve said.

My grandmother instructed me what time I should turn the timer of the oven for, and then ordered me to sit down at the kitchen table with her. “So, Cara… How’s school?”

Oh, fuck! I thought. My mom apparently hadn’t told Grandma yet! “Uh… Mom didn’t tell you, Grandma?”

“Tell me what?”

“Um, I-I dropped out of school… awhile ago this year…”

”What?” Her mature, aging face was very obviously puzzled beyond belief. “W-Why? Why would you do a thing like that, Cara?”

I’d tell her the truth. With confidence, I exclaimed, “I wasn’t happy in school, Grandma. I was a senior in high school and I hadn’t had one idea of what I wanted to do as a career.”

“Well that’s no excuse! You could’ve gotten your high school diploma and then just went to a community college! Then you could’ve met someone nice and married him and just… work around the house! It’s a common thing to do, sweetheart!”

“Yeah, but Grandma, that’s not something I think I would want to do,” I feebly stated.

“Then what is?”

“Well…” So I drew a blank. I was doing fairly well, too. So I started explaining to her what I was currently doing with the band and all. She softened up once I mentioned that it wasn’t just for anyone’s band, but for Garrett’s, my brother.

Speaking of Garrett, just as my eyes flashed up to the wooden doorway of the kitchen, my brother was just walking in. “Oh, hi, sweetie!” Grandma squealed in glee. “We were just talking about you.”

My brother’s face silently resembled confusion before he grabbed a water bottle from the overly stocked refrigerator. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yes! Come here and sit with us, Garrett,” Grandma directed as she motioned to the chair next to me with her pale hand.

“Okay…” Garrett did as he was told and cracked open the bottle of water.

“So your sister was just telling me how she’s recently quit school to help out with you and your band,” Grandma said.

“Was she now?” He replied in a bored tone, taking a sip of water like it was no big deal. As he was tilting the bottle down, finishing his sip, I caught his eye. I widened both of mine as if pleading for an S.O.S.

“Yeah! So what exactly does she do?”

“Uh…” He searched for the right words as he glanced over to me again. “Cara sells our merchandise at shows and makes sure that’s all handled and stuff.”

“Oh, I see,” Grandma nodded. “And she rides with all of you in that van?” I could tell that she held back saying ‘that van’ with disgust like it was anthrax we were talking about.

“Oh, yeah. She has her own little corner in the back with her boyfriend,” he casually retorted, as if the mention of me having a boyfriend wasn’t the latest, exciting news with our grandmother from now on. I wouldn’t hear the end of this one now. Thank you, Garrett.

Grandma gasped and put her hands to her agape mouth. “You’ve got a boyfriend, Cara! Really? Aw, what’s his name? Have I ever met him?”

“Uh…” I dumbly managed to get out.

“Yeah, I think you might’ve met him once or twice,” Garrett exclaimed for me. “He’s Pat Kirch, our drummer. I’ve known him for a long time.”

“Aw, Cara! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” I mumbled.

“Of course it is! Now I can stop trying to hint to the neighbor boy across the street that you’re available!” Garrett snorted at Grandma’s statement.

Oh my God. Ryan. For just about as long as I’ve lived, this boy named Ryan Norris has lived across the street from my grandma’s. He was blonde, tall, muscular, and rather dumb. He had no sense of humor and his life revolved around sports. He was a big, dumb, muscle head who certainly didn’t have a problem getting girls, and my grandmother simply thought that he was the bee’s knees.

“Uh, yeah, Grandma. You can stop doing that,” I told her. Not like I haven’t tried before.

“Aw, I’m so happy for you, baby! How long have you two been dating?”

“Uh… For about… Maybe since like the—“

“The end of summer, Grandma,” Garrett once again jumped in, acting like the Golden Grandson, if you asked me. It was like he liked watching Grandma smother me.

Well he can have a taste of his own medicine. “Hey, Grandma? Did you know that Garrett’s got a special little someone, too?”

“What! No! Really? Aw, what’s her name?”

“We—“

“Ali,” I interrupted my brother. “She’s a really good friend of mine that moved in next door a while ago. She’s really nice.” Garrett sighed and slumped in his chair.

“How long have you and Ali been together, Garrett?”

“Um… Well, we’re… It’s been…”

“Oh,” I started, “They’re not exactly official yet. You know how it goes…” Garrett silently had a point here. This was fun.

“Well that’s just pure poppycock!” I wanted to burst out with giggles at the word ‘poppycock.’ “Garrett, you should go steady with this lovely girl as soon as possible! You never know when she could just get up one day and go off with another boy your age!”

“Meh,” he mumbled, playing with the bottle of clear water on the oak table.

***

On the 23rd, my day, as well as Garrett’s, was spent hanging even more Christmas decorations for the party the next night, and texting the whole gang of friends. Other than those two things, the day was filled with very little cleaning, since Grandma kept this place cleaner than a self-cleaning fish tank, eating, and a little grocery shopping. Ugh. The shopping trip…. So Grandma sent us to the grocery store that morning. When I say ‘us’, I mean Garrett and myself. What a trip that was.

Grandma sent us to the nearest Acme market at about 8 in the morning. Garrett and I didn’t get to the store until about 8:30. So exactly why did we get to the store at 8:30 when it’s 15 minutes down the road and there wasn’t a spot of traffic? Well… there was an argument… between my brother and I.
You see, I hadn’t driven a vehicle since… well, a while. All I asked Garrett was if I could drive there. That’s it! I didn’t even ask to drive back from the store! Well, apparently, just driving there is completely out of the question. He reacted like as if I had just asked if he wanted to murder somebody with me. Finally, I just had to give up and go pout in the passenger’s seat.

When we eventually got there, we found it to be pretty crowded. Naturally, it was because it was the day before Christmas Eve.

“Get a cart,” my brother ordered.

“Okay, but are you sure I can handle it?” I leaned on the cart’s grip. “After all,” I added, still sassing him, “driving an Acme cart might be a little too advanced for me.”

Garrett just sighed and rolled his eyes. “Lets go.”

We walked around the store for a bit, attempting for avoid all the slow, drugged-up, old ladies, and all the aggressive, determined soccer moms. Garrett remembered half of Grandma’s list and I memorized the other. My brother’s half included two of some dairy product, some sort of fruit, and something else totally random. My side had simple, more explainable items on it, such as paper or plastic cups, plates, and napkins in a festive color, and then lastly, sharp cheese for the macaroni. I had just suggested simple, easy Velveeta cheese, but Grandma wouldn’t hear anything of it.