“Don’t ever say that to me again.”
Her eyes dropped to the scarf.
“I did. It was $4,800.”
I knew the number. Grandma Elsie had been proud of saving it.
***
Two months earlier, Dad had walked into our living room and announced a two-week family trip to Europe.
Mom gasped. My brother, Denver, whooped.
I looked up from my notes and said, “My final exams are that week.”
“It was $4,800.”
Dad barely blinked. “That’s too bad, Drea. We can’t move the whole trip.”
Then he said, “Maybe Mom should come in your place then.”
That made me look up.
Dad didn’t call Grandma Elsie much. Mom handled the birthday cards, and I reminded him when Grandma needed help.
“You want to invite Grandma?” I asked.
“We can’t move the whole trip.”
“She’s always saying she never went anywhere,” he said. “It’ll be nice.”
Grandma Elsie cried when he called.
“Me?” she asked through the speaker. “You want me to come?”
“Of course, Mom,” Dad said smoothly. “It’s a family trip.”
She gave him almost all of her savings for flights, hotels, tours, and meals.
Then she shopped like it was prom. I’d even helped her apply for an express passport, and when it arrived a few days before the trip, she held it like it was a winning lottery ticket.
“You want me to come?”
She bought comfortable shoes, pearl earrings, a floral dress, and a tiny phrasebook. But the blue scarf was her favorite.
“Do you think this blue looks silly on me?”
“Grandma,” I said, “that blue looks expensive on you.”
She laughed and touched the fabric. “I’m going to wear it in Paris.”
She bought comfortable shoes.
***
That was what I kept seeing at the airport. Not the money. Not the missed flight.
Her laughing in my bedroom, believing her son had finally chosen her.
“What exactly did Dad say?” I asked.
