Twenty-Four Seconds from Now: Chapter 5

And while I would be trying to stay both close and far from that tiny beast, Gammy would gab endlessly about my grandfather.

Gammy, sensitive to sarcasm, reached over and popped my arm.

“Anyway, your granddaddy came in one day. I’d never seen him before. I knew just about everybody who walked through that door, and I was certain his handsome self hadn’t stepped foot ’cross that threshold until the day he did.

The light changed, and we stepped gingerly off the curb, my hand positioned on the back of her arm, ready for any stumble.

A little imperfection takes the edge off things.’”

Almost every day, as long as one of us can escort her, making the trek through the maze of grass and stone to Grandy’s plot.

Almost every day, as long as one of us can escort her, making the trek through the maze of grass and stone to Grandy’s plot.

“He’d made one for me. A circle and a triangle connected by a hinge, which, when he presented it, I had no idea what to say. Or what it was. I mean, just looked like random shapes to me. Of course, now I know that’s all he could make at the time. Remember, he was an apprentice and was still learning the craft. So he wasn’t that good yet, but I still loved it.”

And this Saturday morning was no different except for the fact that there was less breakfast than usual. Less eggs. Less grits. Less bacon.

This was technically true, but it wasn’t a fifty-fifty split.

“The boy she’s always with on Saturday mornings. Her weekend boyfriend, Spank. And you know he can’t cook for nothing. Ain’t got no flavor in his personality, so I know he don’t have none in his kitchen.”

“Good morning, Natalie,” Ma said, a smidgen of look at you in her tone.

She never let any of it bother her, and sometimes would even lean into it by threatening to divulge details.

The type of place you knew was dirty, and figured all the deliciousness was because of the filth.

We slid into a booth, the yellow vinyl farting with each scoot.

We slid into a booth, the yellow vinyl farting with each scoot.

They shine when they come from a greasy griddle.

She put her hand up to stop whatever words may have potentially been coming, but there was no need.

“Don’t do that. Also, me and your daddy’s names are on that deed. So your room is mine,” she said, pursing her lips for a second.

“You sure? Listen, I have questions, but, like I said, no judgment. I promise.”

I glanced up to see some of the other servers stretching their necks to get a glimpse of the lacy cups on the table next to the plastic ones that looked like glass.

I nodded, both mortified and mystified.

I nodded, both mortified and mystified.

You’d think he was some cliché clown with scumbag tattooed across his neck and whatever else parents see as inappropriate or unsavory for their daughters to date and their sons to be.

You’d think he was some cliché clown with scumbag tattooed across his neck and whatever else parents see as inappropriate or unsavory for their daughters to date and their sons to be.