Status: Active, work on it every now and then.
The Simplest Thing in the World
Twelve
Rosemary invited me to walk with her to school the next day, and I graciously accepted. I wasn’t exactly jumping up and down at the idea of Harold driving me every morning.
“Great!” She said enthusiastically as she made her way out the door with Meredith. “Meet me out in the lobby at…say 7:30?”
I nodded, “Sounds good.”
Meredith waved to us all, “See you around. Thank you for dinner!”
“Anytime,” Harold said, shutting the door. He turned toward me with a smile, “You and Rosemary seem to be hitting it off, huh?”
“Yeah, I suppose so. She’s nice.”
He smiled, “Great! Did you make any others at school today?”
“Uh, yeah. One.”
His smile drooped a little, “Just one?”
“Yeah,” I said with a shrug. “But he’s pretty cool, so…it’s like I made five new friends.”
I was trying to make him feel better. God only knew what he was thinking. The poor orphan girl who is forced to live with estranged grandparents (one of which is completely insane) and now she isn’t making any friends. Poor thing.
“He?” Harold asked with sly smile.
I rolled my eyes, “Grandpa, please. I have a boyfriend. Pro-nouns are not important.”
He continued to grin, “Do I know this boy?”
“I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”
Ruth sat on the couch listening to our exchange without saying a word. Normally, I would find such a thing creepy, but she couldn’t even accept that I was her granddaughter, so I paid her zero attention.
Once safe in my dad’s old room, I changed into my cozy flannel pajamas, hopped into bed, and opened up a book. A few minutes later, Ruth came in. No knock. No nothing. She looked calm as she walked toward my bed, almost uncomfortable, as if she were an outcast trying to sit at the “popular” table at lunch.
“Can I help you?”
“Can I sit?” She asked at the same time.
I motioned toward the bed, giving her permission. She sat. I waited a good three minutes for her to speak. Finally, I picked my book back up and started reading again.
“I’m sorry.”
My head jerked up at her words.
“Excuse me?” I asked softly.
“I am sorry, Celia.” She repeated. “Harold has told me that you are my granddaughter. I…I didn’t want to believe it. I mean, Carter is only a little boy. But…then I saw your pictures and now…I don’t know what to think.”
I looked down at my hands, “He’s telling you the truth. I am your granddaughter. Carter was,” I suddenly remembered Harold telling me Ruth had no idea that my parents are dead. “IS my father."
“Well,” She said, picking at my blankets. “I’m still not sure about that, but for now…I apologize for the way I have treated you. Friends?”
I sighed. I didn’t know how to convince her, so I merely nodded.
“Friends.”
“Great!” She said enthusiastically as she made her way out the door with Meredith. “Meet me out in the lobby at…say 7:30?”
I nodded, “Sounds good.”
Meredith waved to us all, “See you around. Thank you for dinner!”
“Anytime,” Harold said, shutting the door. He turned toward me with a smile, “You and Rosemary seem to be hitting it off, huh?”
“Yeah, I suppose so. She’s nice.”
He smiled, “Great! Did you make any others at school today?”
“Uh, yeah. One.”
His smile drooped a little, “Just one?”
“Yeah,” I said with a shrug. “But he’s pretty cool, so…it’s like I made five new friends.”
I was trying to make him feel better. God only knew what he was thinking. The poor orphan girl who is forced to live with estranged grandparents (one of which is completely insane) and now she isn’t making any friends. Poor thing.
“He?” Harold asked with sly smile.
I rolled my eyes, “Grandpa, please. I have a boyfriend. Pro-nouns are not important.”
He continued to grin, “Do I know this boy?”
“I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”
Ruth sat on the couch listening to our exchange without saying a word. Normally, I would find such a thing creepy, but she couldn’t even accept that I was her granddaughter, so I paid her zero attention.
Once safe in my dad’s old room, I changed into my cozy flannel pajamas, hopped into bed, and opened up a book. A few minutes later, Ruth came in. No knock. No nothing. She looked calm as she walked toward my bed, almost uncomfortable, as if she were an outcast trying to sit at the “popular” table at lunch.
“Can I help you?”
“Can I sit?” She asked at the same time.
I motioned toward the bed, giving her permission. She sat. I waited a good three minutes for her to speak. Finally, I picked my book back up and started reading again.
“I’m sorry.”
My head jerked up at her words.
“Excuse me?” I asked softly.
“I am sorry, Celia.” She repeated. “Harold has told me that you are my granddaughter. I…I didn’t want to believe it. I mean, Carter is only a little boy. But…then I saw your pictures and now…I don’t know what to think.”
I looked down at my hands, “He’s telling you the truth. I am your granddaughter. Carter was,” I suddenly remembered Harold telling me Ruth had no idea that my parents are dead. “IS my father."
“Well,” She said, picking at my blankets. “I’m still not sure about that, but for now…I apologize for the way I have treated you. Friends?”
I sighed. I didn’t know how to convince her, so I merely nodded.
“Friends.”