Lola’s House

Photo courtesy of Unsplash

Visits to grandma were the best. Whenever I was there she never had to go to work. Or run errands. Or take care of something else. It wasn’t like home. She would play if I wanted or tell stories or make snacks.

She would make me call her lola, and I forgot sometimes, but if I did she just laughed and hugged me.

Today mom had to work even though it was Saturday, again, so I was going to go to grandma’s house. I was getting ready to leave, in front of the TV, as mom fussed somewhere behind me.

“Are you ready to go, Christopher?” she yelled from the bathroom. I could see her reflection in the mirror through the open door as she fiddled with her hair and fixed her makeup. She called this Putting On Her Face and it took about forever.

“Yes, mom!” I yelled as I wiggled my bare toes in the carpet. My eyes and hands were totally occupied with the game I was playing and, anyway, “are you ready” always meant I still had plenty of time before we left.

“Shut off that game! You’d better have some shoes on by the time I come out.”

I knew I had to be close to a save point. I couldn’t stop yet. I paused long enough to pull on my socks, but was back to my game with my shoes lying at the edge of the couch. Just a little further. I locked into the game, losing sense of anything else.

“Christopher!” mom yelled, stuffing notepads into a large purse. “Get ready!”

I paused the game because she’d stopped directly in front of me.

“Mom! I’m almost done!”

She looked up from rearranging the depths of her bag. It was the look that meant that I was done now, save point or no. I pouted for a second, but could see it didn’t matter. I reached for the remote and turned the TV off, leaving the system on. I’d come back to it when we came home later today.

I pulled on my shoes and put on my jacket, and spent the next hour on the couch waiting for my mom to get ready. Maybe it wasn’t an hour.

Mom was usually fun in the car. Not when we went to grandma’s, though. She didn’t ask me about my friends or sing fun songs on those trips. She mostly said weird things and asked questions I didn’t understand. I don’t think she was talking to me.

“I have to go in today,” she said staring out the front windshield, using the voice she used when she talked to adults. “I can’t help it. I have to go in.” She stopped at a red light and looked over to me. “I’m there on your birthday, every birthday. I love you .You know I love you.”

She said it, she didn’t ask. I still knew the right thing to do. “I love you, too!” I shouted, smiling. When someone says ‘I love you’ you say ‘I love you, too.’

When we got to grandma’s I jumped out before the car was off, and ran up to the door. I looked back to the car. Mom was till in there, fixing her hair in the mirror. I hopped up and down on the first step to get her attention. She didn’t like me to ring the bell without her. Grandma knew I was there, though. The door sprang open and I heard her shout (Ay anak!) and she picked me up and carried me inside.

“You’re getting so big!” she said, like she said every time I came over. I didn’t think I was getting bigger.

She kissed my cheeks and tickled me and I squirmed and laughed.

“Hi mom,” I heard mom say. I didn’t see her come in. She was standing just inside the doorway looking stiffer than usual. Grandma looked up and walked over.

“Ay anak, you look tired,” she said, reaching up and toughing mom’s hair, petting her head like she always pet mine. “You both need to eat more. Can you stay? I’ll make tocino and eggs.

Mom smoothed her dress down. “No, thanks. I have to go.” She looked at me and smiled her real smile. “I should be done early today. I’ll be back by four to pick you up.”

“So you can stay for dinner,” grandma said. “I can cook for you. I’ll make pancit, your favorite.”

“That hasn’t been my favorite since I was a kid, mom. But it’s OK. I can take care of us.” She smiled at me again. “OK, I have to go. But I’m still taking you to dinner next week, right? The reservation is set. It’s my birthday present to you. Order what you want, don’t just try to find the cheapest thing on the menu.”

“Ah, yes, I remember.”

They looked at each other with strange looks. Then they hugged and mom left.

Grandma looked out the window will mom got in her care and kept looking till mom drove away. Then she looked back at me and was grandma again and she came over, picked me up, and carried me into the living room. We played just like every other visit, and just like every other visit every once in a while she looked out the window like mom was still out there.

We had a huge lunch, longanisa and adobo and lumpia and rice with purple ice cream for dessert. Afterwards we laid on the couch watching grandma’s TV shows in Tagalog. I didn’t understand any of it, but her arm was around me and I was half asleep and I didn’t care.

As I lay there dozing she started softly talking, not to me but also not just to herself.

“Your mom, she thinks these big moments are the most important. She sacrifices everything for them. But these small times are what life is made of. “ She squeezed me tight as I started to nap. “These are the ones you will want more of when they are gone.”

***

I woke up to grandma kissing me on the forehead. My shoes and jacket were already on.

“You’re sure you don’t want to stay to eat?” I heard grandma say.

“It’s OK, mom” mom said. “I’ve already imposed enough. I was two hours late. I can take care of our dinner.”

“OK, anak,” she said, touching my mom’s cheek.

Mom looked uncomfortable and started to shy away, but then took grandma’s hand, looked her straight in the face, and smiled. “Thanks, mom” she said as she squeeze grandma’s hand.

Grandma beamed back.

Mom let go first and reached her hand out to me.

“Time to go, sweetie,” she said. I took her hand and she swept me up and carried me out to the car. I saw grandma looking out at us from her window. Mom waved and grandma waved back and turned away, disappearing into her house.

Instead of starting the car, though, mom just sat there, staring into the now empty window. Her hands rested lightly on the steering wheel and she kept staring in, like she was seeing something I couldn’t see. I fidgeted a bit and she shook herself like she was coming out of a dream. She looked into the rearview mirror, smiled a little smile, and tousled her hair before starting the car and driving us home.