Jake and Gran
Jake always hated visiting his Gran. She was so old. All her stories were repetitive and boring. This trip sucked. Here it was, the start of summer vacation, and he was stuck in the car, when he should have been in front of the TV playing his X-Box. Stupid Gran.
When they got there - finally - he was still in a bad mood. Hopefully his mother wouldn’t want to stay for the whole weekend. He hated the room he slept in, full of dolls and stuffed teddy bears, and doilies everywhere. Hate was such a strong word, but when you’re fourteen, you have easy access to so much anger. Slamming the car door he skulked and slouched into the house, trailing a lace in the gravel of his Gran’s driveway, kicking up dust.
After constant badgering from his mother, he sighed, rolled his eyes and gave his Gran a peck on the cheek, wrinkling his nose at her old-person smell. He slumped into a chair, pointedly not making eye contact and grunted or mumbled all his answers until the adults moved onto topics of their own. Jake was itching for the visit to be over. He hummed annoyingly and tuned out of the conversation. It was always the same old crap anyway, about dead people and events from long ago, what a waste of time.
Surprisingly, the conversation ran down faster than normal, neither his mother or Gran seemed much in the mood for talking. Jake smiled. This was more like it. Finally the old bag had run out steam, and they’d be heading home soon! Maybe he’d be able to talk his mother into eating out on the way home - anything was better than the interminably long meals of bland, stodgy pap that his Gran always served up while droning on about the same topics she’d already gone over so many times.
Jake led the way to the door, as his mother helped his Gran out of the chair that engulfed her frail frame. As she hobbled painfully to the door, she stopped enroute and picked up a large, slightly grubby teddy bear. Impatient to be gone, Jake steeled himself on the grass for a goodbye hug. A bored look on his face as his Gran drew level with him, her bottom lip quivering,
“This is Mr. Bugglesworth,” she said, her voice cracking, “look after him for me please Jakey!”
“Gran! I’m not a little kid any more! I don’t want the stupid bear!”
At this, his mother chimed in... “Jake! Mind your manners! What would your father say?”
With little grace he sighed theatrically and presented himself for a hug.
“I guess this is goodbye, Jakey. They said its inoperable, and I’ve not got long left. I’ll miss you,” his Gran said, as she leaned her head against his, and burst silently into tears.
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