“Mmmm…what’s cookin’, Good Lookin’?

“Mmmm…what’s cookin’, Good Lookin’?” I yelled as I opened the front door. My body was screaming for my bed, but I decided to put on a happy face for my grandma. I’d missed her.

And I selfishly needed her to remind me that I was a good person. After what I’d said to Jared today, I didn’t even want to face myself in the mirror.

Her arrival could be smelled from the driveway. The rich aroma of sauce and meat danced through my nostrils enveloping me in a warm blanket even before I closed the front door.

“Hi, Peaches!” Grandma seemed to dance from the kitchen to the foyer, taking me into her arms. In the year I’d been gone, I’d missed her scent-filled hugs. The hairspray from her hair mixed with the lotion and perfume she used, and the leather from her belts and shoes created this aroma of home in my mind. After Mom died, I’d needed my grandma a lot.

“Oh, I forgot about “Peaches.” Dad still calls me “Pumpkin.” What is it with you Brandts naming me after fruit?” I teased, knowing their endearments were out of love.

“Oh, now. Don’t deny an old lady the pleasure of her pet names.” She plastered a kiss on my cheek with a mwah.

“Grandma, you’re younger at heart than me.” I dropped my bag by the wall and crossed my arms over my chest. “The only thing old about you is your music.” I cocked an eyebrow.

“The Beetles are timeless. Unlike that “screaming” you call music.” I rolled my eyes, and she hooked my arm, leading me into the kitchen.

My grandma is a product of fifties’ parenting—overbearing, every hair in the right place—but she also blossomed during her teens and the rebellion of the sixties. The desire to be active in her environment and experience the world led her to travel a lot as a young adult. When she found out about me going to France for a year, she couldn’t have been more thrilled. Experience is the best teacher. Her echo followed me everywhere.

While she was just over sixty, she looked much younger. Her hair was light brown with some gray, which she usually wore down around her shoulders. Healthy eating and exercise kept her fit, happy, and energetic. Her style was eclectic. I’ve seen her in pants suits and Rolling Stones t-shirts.

“So tell me how school’s been going?” She grabbed come lettuce off the island and began rinsing it in the sink.

“It’s fine.” My bed wasn’t far off now, and my body was too listless to even entertain the idea of actually telling her the truth.

Her eyes shot up at me, though, and she turned off the water. “What’s wrong?” She was breathing through her nose. That’s never good. This woman knew me too well.

“Nothing’s wrong. I said everything was fine.” Please just leave it alone.

Her eyes narrowed. “When you’re happy, you tell me everything: homework, Science Club, France, Cross Country—“

“I’m totally fine,” I interrupted, running my hand across my forehead. “It’s been a rough day is all. I woke up late and got off on the wrong foot. So what time did you get in?”

She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at my change of subject but let it go. “About noon I guess. I thought I’d get in a little early to clean up and start some laundry…” Her words trailed off as she waved a hand through the air. “But you seem to have it all under control.”

“Well, I was taught by the best. Not that I’m not glad you’re here, but you really don’t need to worry. I’ve been doing great.”

“That’s good.” Frowning a little, she continued, “Actually, it’s great. Knowing you’ll be going off to New York next year worries me, and seeing how well you’ve taken care of yourself and the house helps. I guess you don’t need me or your dad so much anymore.”

“I don’t know about that. My cooking stinks, so having you around means I’ll eat better!” I giggled as she shook the leafy lettuce at me and droplets of water flew across my face.

“Hey!” I laughed, taking a paper towel from the stand on the island and patting my face.

Already feeling a bit lighter, I bounced off my chair to help out with dinner. My grandma put together a salad, pasta, and sautéed mushrooms. I made my mouth-watering garlic bread, which was about the only thing I actually baked in the oven. The rest of my diet usually included whatever could be cooked in the microwave. She set up the table in the back patio, and I put on some ambient music, which was common ground for both of us.

“So you think I’ll get into Columbia?” I asked as we served each other.

“I have a feeling about these things.”

“Yeah, you also had a feeling my first kiss was going to be epic. We both know how that turned out.” I joked with her, completely content with this moment. The food looked succulent, while the weightless breeze brought the trees to life and the smell of roses to our table.

She started laughing, almost choking on her sip of wine. “You know”—my grandma held up a finger— “in all fairness, I didn’t know your first kiss was going to be with someone you barely knew. I thought it would’ve been that kid next door.”

Jared.

My face instantly fell with the reminder of him. Distant memories of the now-ancient dreams I once had for Jared danced through my head. There were so many times growing up that I wanted to kiss him.

“Just because we hung out when I was a tween doesn’t mean we were into each other like that. We were just friends,” I mumbled, my brow now creased with aggravation. The conversation was pleasant until the subject of him came up.

“No, but it was other things too.” My grandma’s pensive expression made me want to change the subject again. “There were things I’d pick up on. The way you two always had your heads together, the way he would look at you when you didn’t know it,…and the way he would sneak over for sleepovers.”

She drug out the last part slowly, her knowing eyes mocking my wide-eyed expression. Oh, crap!

“You didn’t think I knew about that, did you?” she asked.

Of course I had no idea my grandmother knew about that! From as early in our friendship as I could remember, Jared would climb through the tree between our bedrooms and sneak through my French doors. It wasn’t a lot, just when his mom had been drinking and he needed to get away. Since I always had a queen sized bed, we were very comfortable and maintained our own spaces, even though his hand would eventually find mine during the night.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. We’re not close.” Twirling some pasta around my fork, I stuffed my mouth hoping this subject would end.

“How has he been treating you since you got back?”

Mouth still full, I rolled my eyes and shook my head to indicate that things still weren’t good, and I didn’t care to talk about it.

“Have you ever talked to him like I suggested?” She inquired before starting her salad.

“Grandma, I don’t even care to try. We were friends once; now we’re not. My heart’s not breaking over it,” I lied.

“Tate, I know it hurts. He’s been an ass to you.”

“Really, I couldn’t care less. And even if it did hurt, I certainly wouldn’t let him see it. He’s done horrible things to me, and if my tears are what he needs to get off, then he can suffer. He doesn’t deserve my attention.”

My grandma put her fork down, uneaten salad dipping into the pasta, “Tatum, that’s your mother talking.”

My eyes darted up to her, shocked by her annoyed tone.

“Honey, I loved your mom. We all did. And I know she meant well, trying to teach you to be strong, since she knew she wouldn’t be here to guide you through tough times. But honey, letting yourself be vulnerable isn’t always a weakness. Sometimes, it can be a conscious decision to draw the other person out.”

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

"Mmmm... apa yang Cookin ', Good lookin '?" Aku berteriak ketika saya membuka pintu depan. Tubuh saya berteriak-teriak untuk tidur saya, tapi aku memutuskan untuk menempatkan di wajah gembira untuk nenek saya. Aku merindukan dia.Dan egois diperlukan dia untuk mengingatkan saya bahwa saya adalah orang yang baik. Setelah apa yang saya telah katakan untuk Jared hari ini, saya bahkan tidak ingin menghadapi diri di cermin.Kedatangannya bisa berbau dari jalan masuk. Aroma kaya saus dan daging menari-nari melalui hidung saya membungkus saya dalam selimut yang hangat bahkan sebelum aku menutup pintu depan."Hai, persik!" Nenek tampak tari dari dapur ke serambi, membawaku ke lengan. Tahun saya telah pergi, aku merindukan dia pelukan penuh aroma. Hairspray dari rambutnya dicampur dengan lotion dan parfum yang dipakai, dan kulit dari ikat pinggang dan sepatu menciptakan aroma ini rumah dalam pikiran saya. Setelah ibu meninggal, saya perlu nenek saya banyak."Oh, aku lupa tentang"Persik." Ayah masih memanggil saya "Labu." Ada apa dengan Anda Brandts penamaan saya setelah buah?" Aku menggoda, mengetahui percintaan mereka berada di luar cinta."Oh, sekarang. Tidak menyangkal seorang wanita tua kesenangan nya nama binatang peliharaan." Dia ditempeli ciuman di pipi saya dengan mwah."Nenek, Anda lebih muda di jantung daripada aku." Aku menjatuhkan tas saya oleh dinding dan menyeberangi lengan saya dadaku. "Satu-satunya hal yang lama tentang Anda adalah musik Anda." Aku mengokang alis."Kumbang abadi. Tidak seperti yang "berteriak" Anda sebut musik." Aku berguling mataku, dan dia ketagihan lenganku, membawaku ke dapur.Nenek saya adalah produk dari lima puluhan orangtua — sombong, setiap rambut di tempat yang tepat- tapi dia juga berkembang selama remaja dan pemberontakan puluhan. Keinginan untuk menjadi aktif di lingkungannya dan pengalaman dunia membuatnya bepergian sebagai orang dewasa muda. Ketika ia menemukan tentang saya akan ke Perancis untuk satu tahun, dia tidak mungkin lebih senang. Pengalaman adalah guru yang terbaik. Echo dia mengikuti saya di mana-mana.Sementara dia hanya lebih dari enam puluh, dia tampak jauh lebih muda. Rambutnya adalah cokelat muda dengan beberapa abu-abu, yang ia biasanya mengenakan di sekitar bahunya. Sehat dan latihan terus cocok nya, bahagia, dan energik. Gaya adalah eklektik. Aku pernah melihatnya di celana pakaian dan t-shirt Rolling Stones."Jadi katakan padaku bagaimana sekolah yang terjadi?" Dia meraih selada datang dari pulau itu dan mulai membilasnya di wastafel."Baik-baik saja." Tempat tidur saya tidak jauh dari sekarang, dan tubuh saya terlalu lesu untuk bahkan menghibur gagasan untuk benar-benar menceritakan kebenaran.Matanya terangkat pada saya, meskipun, dan dia berpaling dari air. "Apa salah?" Dia adalah bernapas melalui hidung. Yang tidak pernah baik. Wanita ini tahu saya terlalu baik."Tidak ada salah. Saya katakan saja." Harap hanya meninggalkannya sendirian.Matanya menyipit. "Ketika Anda bahagia, kau katakan padaku semuanya: pekerjaan rumah, ilmu Club, Perancis, Cross Country —""Saya benar-benar baik," Aku terganggu, menjalankan tanganku di dahi saya. "Sudah hari yang kasar semua. Aku bangun terlambat dan turun pada kaki yang salah. Jadi apa waktu Anda mendapatkan?"She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at my change of subject but let it go. “About noon I guess. I thought I’d get in a little early to clean up and start some laundry…” Her words trailed off as she waved a hand through the air. “But you seem to have it all under control.”“Well, I was taught by the best. Not that I’m not glad you’re here, but you really don’t need to worry. I’ve been doing great.”“That’s good.” Frowning a little, she continued, “Actually, it’s great. Knowing you’ll be going off to New York next year worries me, and seeing how well you’ve taken care of yourself and the house helps. I guess you don’t need me or your dad so much anymore.”“I don’t know about that. My cooking stinks, so having you around means I’ll eat better!” I giggled as she shook the leafy lettuce at me and droplets of water flew across my face.“Hey!” I laughed, taking a paper towel from the stand on the island and patting my face.Already feeling a bit lighter, I bounced off my chair to help out with dinner. My grandma put together a salad, pasta, and sautéed mushrooms. I made my mouth-watering garlic bread, which was about the only thing I actually baked in the oven. The rest of my diet usually included whatever could be cooked in the microwave. She set up the table in the back patio, and I put on some ambient music, which was common ground for both of us.“So you think I’ll get into Columbia?” I asked as we served each other.“I have a feeling about these things.”“Yeah, you also had a feeling my first kiss was going to be epic. We both know how that turned out.” I joked with her, completely content with this moment. The food looked succulent, while the weightless breeze brought the trees to life and the smell of roses to our table.She started laughing, almost choking on her sip of wine. “You know”—my grandma held up a finger— “in all fairness, I didn’t know your first kiss was going to be with someone you barely knew. I thought it would’ve been that kid next door.”Jared.My face instantly fell with the reminder of him. Distant memories of the now-ancient dreams I once had for Jared danced through my head. There were so many times growing up that I wanted to kiss him.“Just because we hung out when I was a tween doesn’t mean we were into each other like that. We were just friends,” I mumbled, my brow now creased with aggravation. The conversation was pleasant until the subject of him came up.“No, but it was other things too.” My grandma’s pensive expression made me want to change the subject again. “There were things I’d pick up on. The way you two always had your heads together, the way he would look at you when you didn’t know it,…and the way he would sneak over for sleepovers.”She drug out the last part slowly, her knowing eyes mocking my wide-eyed expression. Oh, crap!“You didn’t think I knew about that, did you?” she asked.Of course I had no idea my grandmother knew about that! From as early in our friendship as I could remember, Jared would climb through the tree between our bedrooms and sneak through my French doors. It wasn’t a lot, just when his mom had been drinking and he needed to get away. Since I always had a queen sized bed, we were very comfortable and maintained our own spaces, even though his hand would eventually find mine during the night.“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. We’re not close.” Twirling some pasta around my fork, I stuffed my mouth hoping this subject would end.“How has he been treating you since you got back?”Mouth still full, I rolled my eyes and shook my head to indicate that things still weren’t good, and I didn’t care to talk about it.“Have you ever talked to him like I suggested?” She inquired before starting her salad.“Grandma, I don’t even care to try. We were friends once; now we’re not. My heart’s not breaking over it,” I lied.“Tate, I know it hurts. He’s been an ass to you.”“Really, I couldn’t care less. And even if it did hurt, I certainly wouldn’t let him see it. He’s done horrible things to me, and if my tears are what he needs to get off, then he can suffer. He doesn’t deserve my attention.”My grandma put her fork down, uneaten salad dipping into the pasta, “Tatum, that’s your mother talking.”My eyes darted up to her, shocked by her annoyed tone.“Honey, I loved your mom. We all did. And I know she meant well, trying to teach you to be strong, since she knew she wouldn’t be here to guide you through tough times. But honey, letting yourself be vulnerable isn’t always a weakness. Sometimes, it can be a conscious decision to draw the other person out.”