I step into the kitchen, and my gaze lands on a freshly showered woman wearing a yellow sundress with a grin on her face and a twinkle in her eyes.
Mama notices me watching her and waves me to come farther into the room. “Want to help me? I’m making gingerbread cookies, your favorite.”
I nod as she reaches down and pats my cheek. “Okay then, go get your hands washed. Cleanliness is next to godliness.”
I rush over to the sink and stand on my tiptoes to reach the faucet and soap. Mama says I’m tall for a seven-year-old and that I get my height from my father. I like when she tells me things about him because I don’t have many facts about him.
I hold my hands up for her inspection. “All clean.”
She nods and then gives me the cookie cutter in the shape of a little man. “You can cut out the next batch.”
She kisses my cheek and then nuzzles her nose in the spot her lips touched, causing me to giggle. It’s times like these when I’m truly happy.
More and more often, Mama’s been taking medicine to make her sadness go away, but today she’s happy without using it.
We are on our third batch of cookies when the front door of our apartment flies open, and my grandmother comes flouncing in, wearing her favorite flower dress, which means she came from church.
Grandmother steps into our tiny kitchen and removes the oversize hat from her head. “Gingerbread cookies in the middle of the summer, Gina? You do realize those are intended to be Christmas treats.”
Mama waves her off. “Who says? They’re Xavier’s favorite, so we can make them anytime we want. We don’t follow rules around here.”
Grandmother lifts her chin. “Rules maintain order. Without them, there would be chaos. Speaking of which, have you thought any more about what I said to you? I think you would do much better staying clean if you moved back home where I could keep an eye on you.”
“You mean, smother me, don’t you?” Mother retorts. “I’ve told you, Mother, I’m done living under your rules.”
“Gina, don’t be ridiculous. I don’t—”
“Yes, you do. You’ve always managed to chase off every man who’s ever been important to me, and then you try to control every aspect of my life.”
“I just want what’s best for you. Living life by the good book and finding a man who’s suitable to marry aren’t such bad things for me to want for my only daughter, is it?”
Mother sighs as she rolls out the last batch of dough before her. “No, I guess not, but all the men you pick for me are boring, and I don’t find them the least bit attractive.”
Grandmother’s nostrils flare. “And I suppose that monster who got you pregnant was better? Remind me where he is again. Oh, that’s right. He ran off and left you after his spawn was born.”
Mother slams her hands down hard onto the table. “His name is Xavier. He is your grandson, and if you can’t love him the same way you love me, you can forget about me ever moving back home with you.”
Grandmother’s cool blue eyes lock on to me, and I slink down, trying my best to become invisible to rid myself from the weight of her stare.
“By bringing him along with you, perhaps we’ll get to know one another better.”
That sounds nice, but I know she hates me. The only reason she tolerates me is because she loves Mama. When she’s not around, Grandmother calls me names and shoves me.
I tried to tell Mama about it once, but she explained to me that Grandmother has a right to discipline me when I misbehave while she’s not around. After that, I never told Mama about anything that went on when she left me alone with her. I would do my best to make sure I was never alone with Grandmother though.
Mama sighs. “No. I like being on my own.”
“You don’t want to come live with me? Fine.” Grandmother slams her purse on the counter beside Mama and then fishes a rectangular piece of paper out from it. “Then, understand this, Gina. There will be no more money from me. I will not pay another penny on this apartment of yours, so when you decide to go out on a binge again and lose this new job of yours, don’t ask me for another handout. The only way I will continue to help you is if you move back home, where you belong.”
Grandmother tosses the check at Mama, and it flutters down to the floor as Grandmother grabs her purse and disappears through the front door as quickly as she came in.
It’s quiet in our kitchen for a few minutes before Mama begins humming “Jingle Bells” and continues to cut out little gingerbread men. She bumps her hip into mine. “Sing with me.”
She smiles at me as we both sing, and when we’re through, she gently pinches my chin. “You have your father’s eyes, and I know you’re going to be just as handsome as he was. Only promise me that you’ll be a better man than him. Promise me, when things get hard, you won’t run away and leave me like he did.”
“I promise,” I tell her. I mean it with my whole heart.