Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume Page A

away. I knew it by the way they walked down the airplane stairs, clutching each other. And when they got closer I knew it by my grandmother's shoes-black with laces and fat heels-old lady shoes. My grandfather had white hair around the edges and none on top. He was shorter and fatter than my grandmother.
    They looked around a bit before my mother called out, "Here we are-over here."
    They walked toward us, growing more excited as they recognized my mother. She gave each of them a short hug. I just stood there feeling dumb until my grandmother said, "And this must be Margaret Ann." When she said it I noticed the cross around her neck. It was the biggest one I ever saw. And it sparkled!
    I didn't want them to touch me. And maybe they could tell, because when my grandmother bent over, as if to kiss me, I stiffened. I didn't mean to. It just happened.
    I think my mother knew how I felt because she told them we'd better see about the luggage.
    When we got home my father met us at our front door and carried in their suitcases. They had two of them. Both brown and both new.
    "Hello, Herb," my grandmother said.
    "Hello, Mrs. Hutchins," my father answered.
    I thought how funny it was for my father to call her "Mrs."
    My grandfather shook hands with my father. "You're looking well, Herb," he said.
    My father pressed his lips together but finally managed to say, "Thank you."
    I thought, this is harder on my father than it is on me!
    My mother and I showed my grandparents to their room. Then my mother went down to see about dinner. I said, "If there's anything you need, just ask me.
    "Thank you, Margaret Ann," my grandmother said. She had a funny way of scrunching up her mouth.
    "You don't have to call me Margaret Ann," I said. "Nobody does. Just Margaret is fine."
     
    My mother really made a fancy dinner. The kind she has when she's entertaining friends and I'm sent to bed early. We had flowers on the table and a hired lady to wash the dishes.
    My mother changed into a new dress and her hair looked nice too. She didn't look like her parents at all. My grandmother changed her dress too, but she still had the cross around her neck.
    At dinner we all tried hard to have a conversation. My mother and my grandmother talked about old friends from Ohio and who was doing what these days. My grandfather said mostly, "Please pass the butter… please pass the salt."
    Naturally I used my best possible manners. In the middle of the roast beef course my grandfather knocked over his water glass and my grandmother gave him a sharp look, but my mother said water couldn't possible hurt anything. The lady from the kitchen wiped it up.
    During dessert my mother explained to my grandparents that she had just ordered all new living room furniture and she was sorry they wouldn't be able to see it. I knew she hadn't ordered anything yet, but I didn't tell.
    After dinner we sat around in the den and my grandfather asked my father such questions as:
     
    Grandfather: "Are you still in the insurance business?"
    Father: "Yes."
    Grandfather: "Do you invest in the stock market?"
    Father: "Occasionally."
    Grandfather: "This is a pretty nice house."
    Father: "Thank you. We think so too."
     
    While my grandmother talked to my mother about:
     
    Grandmother: "We were in California over Thanksgiving."
    Mother: "Oh?"
    Grandmother: "Yes, your brother has a wonderful wife."
    Mother: "I'm glad."
    Grandmother: "If only they were blessed with a child. You know, they're thinking of adopting."
    Mother: "I hope they do. Everyone should have a child to love."
    Grandmother: "Yes, I know… I've always wanted dozens of grandchildren, but Margaret's all I've got."
     
    Then my mother excused herself to pay the lady in the kitchen, who signaled that her taxi was waiting out front. So my grandmother turned to me.
    "Do you like school?" she asked.
    "Most of the time," I said.
    "Do you get good marks?"
    "Pretty good," I said.
    "How do you do in Sunday school?"
    My mother came back into