Take A Picture (It'll Last Longer)

Ben’s Gran is the exact stereotype of your dignified, reserved, stoic, impassive British blueblood. She was the Queen Mum, Lady Catherine du Bourgh, and Margaret Thatcher all rolled into one. When we walked into the drawing room, Ben’s mother seemed to be chatting nervously with his grandmother. I noticed that even with her lack of Botox injections, Ben’s Gran looked a little younger than Ben’s mother. While Gran listened to Ben’s mother with no interest whatsoever, Amy filed her nails and Ben’s father did the crossword in The Daily Mail. I felt like I was walking into a deathtrap. Ben held onto my hand as firm as he possibly could and seemed to be twice as nervous as I was.

I knew that it was hard on Ben facing the fact that his family didn’t exactly approve of me. I had it easy with my mother fawning all over Ben like he was God’s gift to women so I couldn’t really appreciate how tough it was for Ben to walk into that room, holding on to me, not sure if the one person in the world who’s approval he sought would be attained. I didn’t know what would happen if Ben’s Gran didn’t like me but I had the sneaking suspicion that one of us would be heartbroken if that were the case.

“Ah, Benjamin,” Gran said, looking, rather than stern or reserved, almost proud. “Come give your Gran a kiss.” Like he was five, Ben trotted over and gave his Gran a kiss on the cheek and then took a seat next to me on the sofa.

“This is Catherine, Mary,” Ben’s mother said to Gran. Then Gran did a 180.

“I know that, Beatrice,” she snapped. “I wasn’t born yesterday and I think my intelligence is considerable enough I can tell when I am looking at my own granddaughter-in-law.” Beatrice shut up immediately and her face fell.

“I hope Beatrice hasn’t treated you like a complete ignoramus,” Gran said to me affectionately. “She has a tendency to insult people without meaning to.” Beatrice opened her mouth to say something then closed it before she made herself appear worse than she already had.

“I’m going to work,” Albert harrumphed before getting up out of his chair and unceremoniously leaving.

“I will have to talk with my son about his manners,” Gran grumbled under her breath. She turned to Benjamin with a grandmotherly tone. “It’s been almost five years since I’ve seen you, dearie. Tell me, what’s going on in your life? Christmas cards are so vague…”

It was obvious from the look on Beatrice’s face that Ben hadn’t sent her a Christmas card and Ben’s mother seemed to sink lower and lower into her chair. Of course, I didn’t blame Ben for not sending his parents a Christmas card. In fact, I was starting to debate on whether or not Ben and I were going to send his parents a Christmas card when that time of year came around. Ben and his Gran chatted happily about Northwestern and Ben’s blooming career as a photographer for a few minutes and then Gran looked up at me. Beatrice and Amy seemed to sense what was coming and they suddenly sprang to life, perhaps waiting to see Gran verbally and mentally tear me limb from limb.

“And what is it you do, Catherine?” Gran asked me.

“You can call her Catt,” Ben said sheepishly. Gran nodded and waited for me to respond.

“I’m a writer for Chicago Magazine,” I replied.

“Where Ben works,” Beatrice added.

“I know that, Beatrice. I know that. You know that. Amy knows that. I’m sure Catt knows that so why are you bothering to tell her?” Gran frowned. Beatrice shut up again “What sort of things do you write?”

“Local news, mostly store openings, venues, whenever celebrities come to town. That sort of thing,” I shrugged. “The pay is moderate and I don’t dread coming into work every day, so it’s good. I would like do some things in a broader spectrum though. Maybe more hard news.”

“An ambitious young woman. I like that,” Gran smiled. “And you went to Northwestern without Benny so you must be quite intelligent. That’s a hard school to gain admittance to. And your parents?”

“My mother… does yoga… and my father restores cars,” I said, feeling ashamed of my parents for the first time since I was sixteen.

“Varied interests. It’s good to have different experiences growing up and I’m sure you were provided enough with that,” Gran nodded. “I think it would have been nicer if Amy and Ben were provided more opportunities to travel and see things outside their own world.”

“We took them to every country in Europe!” Beatrice protested.

“Yes, and stayed in every five star resort and ate at every five star restaurant along the way,” Gran snorted. “It would have been better if you had taken them backpacking or mountain climbing or…”

“Snowboarding like you did last year?” Amy ventures.

“Yes,” Gran nodded. “Snowboarding is a very healthy and rewarding sport. I intend on taking it up full time.”

“Mary, I don’t think at you age that snowboarding is…” Beatrice began.

“At my age? May I point out to you, Beatrice, that you are not my age, nor have you ever been my age, therefore it is reasonable to conclude that you know absolutely nothing about what one is capable of at my age,” Gran said sternly. She turned back to me with a happy expression on her face. “Sorry for that rude interruption. Do you have any siblings, Catt?”

“I’m an only child,” I said to her.

“Ah, too bad,” Gran clucked. “It’s always good to grow up with siblings. Teaches you to be tough. Especially with sisters. I had enough of those, let me tell you.”

“Sisters are tough,” Ben mumbled. Amy gave him a rude gesture that Gran couldn’t see, but Beatrice did and she gave Amy a warning glance.

“What about children of your own?” Gran asked me. “What do you have planned concerning that?”

“Mary! That is completely out of the question!” Beatrice said, horrified.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ben asked his mother angrily.

“You can’t possibly condone this… this mockery of a marriage!” Beatrice spat at Gran. “If anything, I asked you to come early because I thought you would do something to stop all of this madness! Obviously, I misjudged how much you wanted to do the best thing for this family.”

“Well, Beatrice, when you informed me that our Benjamin had made some sort of colossal mistake, I thought you meant that he had run off with some sort of cocaine whore or money-grubbing tramp or one of those transvestites who masquerades as Marilyn Monroe,” Gran snorted. “I find your ranting and raving about how this was going to be the ruination of our family quite comical since I am now faced with a very well-spoken, intelligent, and good-natured young lady whom I thoroughly approve of.”

“Ruination?” Ben said to his mother, his mouth agape. “Madness? Mistake? Mockery?”

“Benjamin, now is not the time for alliteration,” Beatrice hissed at him.

“I’m sorry, Mum,” Ben spat. “I thought because your prejudice and conceit were causing you to undermine my own personal happiness for your own selfish reasons created the perfect opportunity to use alliteration.”

“Wow, Ben,” Amy commented. “Catt’s taught you some big words.” Ben glared at Amy challengingly.

“Honestly, Benjamin, you don’t think you’re going to get away with this juvenile stunt do you?” Beatrice glowered.

“Stunt? What stunt?” Ben said to his mother furiously. “This is real, Mum. It’s bloody real!”

“No need for language, Benjamin,” Gran said to him sternly. “I hardly think, Beatrice, it was your place to make such a rash and harsh judgment on this situation. In fact, I don’t think we have a situation on our hands at all.”

“I should think not,” Ben said furiously.

“Why are you against me? I’m just trying to do what’s best for this family…” Beatrice began.

“Mum, even I think you’re blowing this a bit out of proportion,” Amy snorted.

“No one asked you, Amelia,” Beatrice spat.

“Ben, Amy, Catt, would the three of you be so kind as to excuse Beatrice and myself for a few moments?” Gran said. Without even nodding, Ben, Amy, and I jumped up from our seats and left the room, Ben closing the door behind us. Gran can be that scary.

As soon as we were out of the room and had the door closed behind us, Ben and Amy started jockeying for position to listen at the keyholes of the drawing room. After a few shoves and scratches, Ben finally won out and Amy pulled a cigarette and lighter out of her purse. She lit up and then looked at me speculatively.

“Honestly, Catt, I thought Gran was going to butcher you,” Amy said to me in between drags. “She has a nasty habit of just butchering all of Ben’s other girlfriends, mostly because all of them were twits, but still. Most of the time Gran is known for causing bloodbaths.”

“But she seems so sweet…” I said. “Well, most of the time.”