look just like your father.” Everyone said that. I had long brown hair just like my father.
“Mom, wh at room is mine?” Lor i shouted from behind me . She was carrying a pile of pillows and blankets that were taller than she was.
“Whoa, Lori, what are you doing ?” Mom said, rushing in from behind her . She managed to save the falling tower of pillows just before they spilled over everywhere.
“Good save, Mom,” I said, finally managing to pull away from Gramma. I immediately went to her aid . Not because I wanted to help her, but because I just n eeded an excuse to get away .
“What room is mine?” Lori asked again.
Before we could venture off to find bedrooms, Gramma bounded upon us with arms wide open, “Come here. I wanna hug you both . How are my grandbabies ? ”
Get ready for round two, I thought as I braced myself.
S he swept us both into a fanatical hug, s q ueezing tight ly , and seeming to offer n o hope she would ever let go. “I could just eat you both up.”
For a second, I thought she was actually going to make good on her “threat . ” Maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me, but for a second, I was sure she had my entire ear in her mouth.
“We’re good,” I grunted. M om wasn’t exaggerating. This woman was loony tunes .
She squeezed us a bit harder, pushing my face into her armpit. It was disgusting. All that flab with its disgusting taste of s weat laced with salt and bacteria. I couldn’t breathe. Lori struggled too, but s he was smaller, so she managed to duck out from under Gramma’s beefy arms. I cried for help, but my voice was muffled by jelly rolls.
“ Mom, can you let her go, please? ” Mom asked .
Gramma held on to me for another few seconds and then finally let go. I breathed heavily, as if I had just finished a five-mile sprint. “What a couple of lovely, de licious children you have here . ” Her choice of the word “delicious” concerned me a bit, especially when I looked into those crazed eyes.
Mom and Gramma began talking about things I had no idea, nor any interest in learning, about. While they talked , I walked in the family room off to the left of the dining room. There was what looked like a wood-burning stove to my left, with a couple of rocking chairs in front of it, and a rack full of logs beside it.
There were at least fifteen deer and coyote heads mounted on the walls. Disgusting.
“Mom,” I called back to her , “this place is weird.”
“Honey, your gramma and I are talking.” Her voice was somber and lonely. I really wished Dad were here.
Across from the stove was a doorway that led to a set of stairs heading up to the second floor. Mom had said on the way here that our room s would be on the second floor.
There really wasn’t any point in going up to my room empty-handed. “I, uh, need to go get more stuff,” I said under my breath and headed out the front door.
The car didn’t have a lot in it . Moving into a house where someone already lives creates the issue of excess furniture. Mom insisted we leave most of the stuff at our old house , so there were mainly just boxes of books, some video games, and clothes.
Gramma and Mom were still talking as I came back in. Lori was standing there with pillows and blankets in hand, having recovered them after hugging Gramma. She looked like she was waiting for directions to our bedrooms.
I told Lori to ju st follow me upstairs, that we would just choose our own rooms , since I was sure Mom wouldn’t be in the mood to help us, and I wanted to stay as far away from Gramma as possible .
W e went up the stair case. Walking up those steps produce d the most amazing sort of echo; the sound of light , but heavy -sounding steps down an empty hall.
It just sounded so cool , yet it made me a little uneasy .
The upstairs was a rather large , L-shaped corridor with five rooms off of it. It looked as though Gramma hadn’t been up there in years, if ever. Cob webs filled every corner;
“Mom, wh at room is mine?” Lor i shouted from behind me . She was carrying a pile of pillows and blankets that were taller than she was.
“Whoa, Lori, what are you doing ?” Mom said, rushing in from behind her . She managed to save the falling tower of pillows just before they spilled over everywhere.
“Good save, Mom,” I said, finally managing to pull away from Gramma. I immediately went to her aid . Not because I wanted to help her, but because I just n eeded an excuse to get away .
“What room is mine?” Lori asked again.
Before we could venture off to find bedrooms, Gramma bounded upon us with arms wide open, “Come here. I wanna hug you both . How are my grandbabies ? ”
Get ready for round two, I thought as I braced myself.
S he swept us both into a fanatical hug, s q ueezing tight ly , and seeming to offer n o hope she would ever let go. “I could just eat you both up.”
For a second, I thought she was actually going to make good on her “threat . ” Maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me, but for a second, I was sure she had my entire ear in her mouth.
“We’re good,” I grunted. M om wasn’t exaggerating. This woman was loony tunes .
She squeezed us a bit harder, pushing my face into her armpit. It was disgusting. All that flab with its disgusting taste of s weat laced with salt and bacteria. I couldn’t breathe. Lori struggled too, but s he was smaller, so she managed to duck out from under Gramma’s beefy arms. I cried for help, but my voice was muffled by jelly rolls.
“ Mom, can you let her go, please? ” Mom asked .
Gramma held on to me for another few seconds and then finally let go. I breathed heavily, as if I had just finished a five-mile sprint. “What a couple of lovely, de licious children you have here . ” Her choice of the word “delicious” concerned me a bit, especially when I looked into those crazed eyes.
Mom and Gramma began talking about things I had no idea, nor any interest in learning, about. While they talked , I walked in the family room off to the left of the dining room. There was what looked like a wood-burning stove to my left, with a couple of rocking chairs in front of it, and a rack full of logs beside it.
There were at least fifteen deer and coyote heads mounted on the walls. Disgusting.
“Mom,” I called back to her , “this place is weird.”
“Honey, your gramma and I are talking.” Her voice was somber and lonely. I really wished Dad were here.
Across from the stove was a doorway that led to a set of stairs heading up to the second floor. Mom had said on the way here that our room s would be on the second floor.
There really wasn’t any point in going up to my room empty-handed. “I, uh, need to go get more stuff,” I said under my breath and headed out the front door.
The car didn’t have a lot in it . Moving into a house where someone already lives creates the issue of excess furniture. Mom insisted we leave most of the stuff at our old house , so there were mainly just boxes of books, some video games, and clothes.
Gramma and Mom were still talking as I came back in. Lori was standing there with pillows and blankets in hand, having recovered them after hugging Gramma. She looked like she was waiting for directions to our bedrooms.
I told Lori to ju st follow me upstairs, that we would just choose our own rooms , since I was sure Mom wouldn’t be in the mood to help us, and I wanted to stay as far away from Gramma as possible .
W e went up the stair case. Walking up those steps produce d the most amazing sort of echo; the sound of light , but heavy -sounding steps down an empty hall.
It just sounded so cool , yet it made me a little uneasy .
The upstairs was a rather large , L-shaped corridor with five rooms off of it. It looked as though Gramma hadn’t been up there in years, if ever. Cob webs filled every corner;
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