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t w e n t y - e i g h t : acceptance
“Grandma’s or grandpa’s?” I ask.
“Hmm?” mom mumbles as she puts on another layer of makeup.
“Which one should we go to first?”
Great—another reminder that marriage doesn’t last—at least in her eyes. She told me about her big romantic awakening with dad. How he promised never to hurt her like my grandparents did each other. How he promised to love her till death do them part.
In her eyes, it’s all a lie, and I’m starting to think so, too.
So, here we are: picking which Thanksgiving to go to first, not mentioning dad, and pretending like everything’s okay.
I’m avoiding my “friends,” and mom has a new guy over every week: perfectly normal. And clarentonsecrets—aka. My best friend—is here to document it all.
“Let’s go to grandma’s,” she chrips.
She’s always been her favorite, seeing as gran
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