Model Grandma

by Lily Brown

Libby lived in a small house with a small backyard. Her husband had passed away many years ago, so she lived alone. She had no pets, but regularly fed an old stray cat that always showed up at her house around dinnertime. She did not have many passions in life, besides watching game shows on television, but she loved her grandchildren very much. Her old rusted refrigerator, that filled one’s nostrils with the smell of rotting cabbage when opened, was covered with photographs of her three grandchildren at their birth, at early birthday parties, eating their first foods, and in Christmas cards. These were her only connections to the children, who lived far away and had visited only once or twice. By now they barely resembled the infants and toddlers pictured on the fridge, but their parents had stopped sending pictures, so Libby had no idea.

Everyday Libby would get up, eat her breakfast of yogurt and bananas (sometimes with strawberries if they were on sale), take her numerous pills (one of the drawbacks of being old), which were washed down with a tall glass of Tropicana Low Acid orange juice. She would then change out of her nightgown with the faded blue flower print and get ready for the day ahead.

Libby liked to stay inside most of the time. She would watch her favorite shows like Wheel of Fortune and The Price is Right, knit hats and scarves for her grandchildren, and write them letters even though she never received a response.

Since Libby did not own a car, when she did go out to buy groceries or attend Bingo at the senior center, she had to get a ride with her neighbor Gloria, or as she like to be referred to, Grandma Gloria.

Grandma Gloria was a larger woman with dyed orange hair. She lived directly next door to Libby in a slightly larger house with a slightly larger backyard. She also lived alone because her husband had passed away many, many years ago. She owned two cats and covered her brand new bright white refrigerator with photographs of her numerous grandchildren. Libby was never quite sure how many she had, as it seemed Grandma Gloria was always receiving new pictures of them where they appeared to be growing up and changing appearances fairly often. She had a badge 1961 Cadillac Fleetwood with almost no scratches or dents. It had belonged to her husband before he died. She enjoyed telling everyone how successful, talented, and smart her grandchildren were. She would regularly show off their report cards, trophies, awards, photographs, and letters. She seemed to receive updates and items almost daily, but her grandchildren also never visited.

Libby was always jealous of Grandma Gloria but tried to hide it because Grandma Gloria seemed to become very happy and more show offish (if that was possible) when she did slip up. It was difficult to not be a little sad and frustrated when she tried so hard to win her grandchildren’s affection to no avail. The constant bragging did not help. But, Libby had to spend time with Grandma Gloria because she did not have very many other friends. In fact, she had none. So she spent her days mostly alone besides seeing Grandma Gloria when she needed a ride, taking out the trash, or when she was invited over for a cup of tea.

One Wednesday afternoon after rushing (as fast as an old lady could) to get the mail, Libby was feeling particularly depressed. She had not received any mail from her grandchildren and was unsure why today it hit her so hard. Just as she was about the walk up her rotting wood steps and into the house she heard a cheery voice call her name.

“Libby. Oh Libby,” Grandma Gloria said in a singsong voice.

Libby sighed, just what she needed, and turned around to face Grandma Gloria who was standing on her bright clean brick steps, envelopes and packages in hand.

“Hi Grandma Gloria,” Libby said in as nice a voice as possible.

“Oh just look at all these things from my grandchildren. They’re just magnificent, my grandkids,” she said ecstatically.

“That’s nice,” Libby replied.

“Well don’t just stand there. Come over here and give me a hand, I can barely carry all this stuff. Then we can have some tea.”

Libby sighed again. She knew that having tea meant she would have to watch Grandma Gloria open all the gifts and have to hear all about her grandchildren’s lives and what they were up to. She didn’t think she could bare it, but she couldn’t really say no. Grandma Gloria knew that Libby never really did anything and never let her get away with an excuse.

Libby slowly walked down her steps, being careful to avoid the rotting hole in the wood. She opened her gate (it took a minute because the lock was old and tended to get stuck), turned left, and walked through Grandma Gloria’s new radiant white gate. Grandma Gloria handed her a pile of packages and they went inside.

Libby deposited the packages onto the green Formica table in the nook of Grandma Gloria’s kitchen.

“Sometimes I’m overwhelmed by the amount of things my grandkids send me,” Grandma Gloria said with a sigh as she put water on for tea.

Libby didn’t respond. She didn’t know how. Day after day, year after year, it was the same. She was getting older and smiling and nodding enthusiastically while Grandma Gloria displayed the treasures sent to her by her grandchildren, was becoming very hard.

Grandma Gloria came back with two round red cups brimming with Lipton Cinnamon Apple Herbal Tea. Distractedly, she handed one cup to Libby and set hers down.

“Where should I start?” she said surveying the pile.

“This is nice tea,” Libby said as she took a sip. She had to say something to change the topic.

Ignoring Libby’s comment, Grandma Gloria picked up one of the envelopes. She carefully peeled back the top of the envelope and pulled out a fat letter. Libby turned away. She couldn’t take the delicacy and determination Grandma Gloria put into this activity. If she ever received a letter she would passionately rip it open.

A photograph of two little children dressed up and posing for the camera, fell out of the letter. Upon seeing the picture, Grandma Gloria let out a series of gasps and giggles. Libby looked down at her tea, which actually tasted very bad. Libby used to like tea, but now it reminded her of this long drawn-out process she had to go through weekly.

“Oh, look at the time. I have to get going, The Price is Right is almost on. I can’t miss it,” Libby exclaimed as she glanced at the dark mahogany wall clock.

“Oh, but look at all these packages. I still have more to open. Don’t you want to see?” Grandma Gloria said disappointedly.

“I would love to, but I just can’t miss my show,” Libby said, trying to use a regretful tone.

“Well, alright. I’ll meet you in front of my house for Bingo Friday, then.”

“Bye,” Libby hollered as she shuffled out of the house.

Libby went home and went straight to bed. She was just too upset to do anything, even watch her favorite show.

Well rested but a little groggy from over sleeping, Libby awoke the next morning. She sat on her couch and turned on the TV. None of her favorite shows was on, so she watched an infomercial for some super amazing vegetable chopping machine. She didn’t have an appetite so she just sat there until she heard the neighbor’s dog barking, sounding the alarm for the mailman. Usually, when she heard this sound her ears would perk up. She would turn her head and become very still and alert, like when a dog becomes aware of a squirrel or cat. But today, she did not care and she defiantly did not want to run into Grandma Gloria getting her mail. So, she continued to watch the man demonstrate the machine’s extreme cutting ability.

A couple hours later, when she was sure Grandma Gloria was safely inside, she put on her fuzzy purple slippers and descended her termite infested front steps. She opened the rusted creaky mailbox, and pulled out a thin stack of envelopes. The top one was from the electric company, most likely bills. The next was just an advertisement for a gardening service. But the third was different. It was a crisp white envelope that seemed stuffed with enticing information. It was addressed to “Grandma Libby.”

Libby dropped all the letters in surprise. It felt so foreign yet very fitting to be referred to by that title. She carefully bent down and picked up her one important piece of mail. As she stood up, her knees creaked and cracked, but she didn’t notice. She ripped open the envelope with as much (maybe more) vigor as a little child would rip open her presents on Christmas.

The letter read: Dear Grandma Libby, I’m sorry I have not contacted you in so long. My life has been very busy, and I just couldn’t find the time. I just graduated from Yale, something I’m sure you’re quite proud of. I’m trying to start a company that deals with computer stuff; it’s a bit complicated and hard to explain. You might not understand. But, anyway I needed an investor with some startup money and seeing as you are my grandmother, I am asking if you could be that investor. Thanks, Jackson. P.S. I have enclosed a picture of myself since you probably have no idea what I look like.

Libby just stood there staring at the letter, the word “Grandma” running through her head. Of course she would give Jackson, her grandson, money. She rushed back inside to fetch her light blue monogrammed stationary, so she could write back saying yes and telling him how proud she was. Her next step was to frame the beautiful picture of the baby-faced dark brown haired young man. She rummaged through her box of frames. None of them was right. They were too old, too beat up, to dull, and too cheap. She would have to go to a nice fancy store to get the right frame worthy of Jackson’s picture.

She picked up the phone to dial Grandma Gloria for a ride. It rang once and Libby quickly hung up. On second thought, she didn’t want Grandma Gloria to know. She would outshine Libby and ruin this special moment.

Instead, Libby put on her black itchy winter coat and headed for the bus stop two blocks away. Libby boarded the bus but there were no available seats. Her old legs could not handle standing for the whole ride.

“Excuse me ma’am, would you like my seat?”

Libby turned to see a young man standing motioning to his empty seat.

“Oh yes. Why thank you young man,” Libby replied.

She took it graciously thinking that her grandson Jackson was probably as polite as this nice young man.

As the bus made its way to Aaron Brother Art & Framing, Libby pictured the photograph of Jackson, which she had left at home in order to avoid the risk of wreckage.

The bus pulled up to the stop half a block from the store and Libby hurriedly hopped out. Once inside the store Libby went straight to the silver frames. She thought they were classier and more masculine than the gold ones. She checked each frame for its shininess and pattern. Most were ugly with their flowers and zigzags, which did not fit well with Jackson’s handsome photo.

Just as she was about to give up, one particular frame caught her eye. It was shiny silver with a bold coiled pattern on it. She picked it up to examine and immediately dropped it. Libby looked down at the floor perplexed. Smiling up at her in the model picture were Grandma Gloria’s grandchildren, Rosemary and Nathan. Grandma Gloria had never mentioned that they were models, which confused Libby because Grandma Gloria was always quick to show off any accomplishment, big or small, her grandchildren had.

Upset that Grandma Gloria seemed to interfere with every facet of her life, Libby picked up the frame and put it back on the shelf. Tainted by its connection to Grandma Gloria, Libby was no longer attracted to the frame. It would only serve as a reminder of how superior Grandma Gloria’s life was compared with her own.

Libby moved down the isle, determined to come away from this shopping trip with the perfect frame. She picked out another promising one and examined it closely. Gasping, she shoved it back on to the shelf. Encased in this frame was a picture of Robert, another one of Grandma Gloria’s grandkids, smiling his gap tooth smile for the camera. She starred at it for a second and realized that this was the same exact picture Grandma Gloria had on her fridge and the picture of Rosemary and Nathan was the same one hanging in Grandma Gloria’s hallway. Libby stood shocked, her old brain processing all this new information. A huge smile came over Libby’s face. She took the frame back off the shelf and went to the register.

“Did you find everything you need?” the cashier asked.

“Oh yes!” Libby replied.

Once at home Libby took out the picture of Rosemary and Nathan and replaced it with her beloved Jackson. She walked out her front door and stood on the porch. She looked at her steps, which seemed a little sturdier today. She walked down them and they barely creaked. She got her gate open in the first try. Arriving at Grandma Gloria’s, Libby looked up at the house. Usually Libby admired and was secretly jealous of the house but today it looked tacky with its too bright white paint job and the perfectly manicured plants.

Libby knocked on the door.

“Oh hello Libby. This is quite a surprise,” Grandma Gloria said as she opened the screen door.

“I have something for you, Gloria,” Libby said calmly.

“Don’t you mean Grandma Gloria dear,” Gloria said in a fake voice, her anger showing through.

“No,” Libby replied, and handed her the model picture.