©2013, Tracey Howard
"Ready for this?" I ask my daughter as we enter the nursing home. She’s looking pale and nervous."I need to use the restroom." she tells me quietly.
Nodding, I step into the small dining room, and spot Gram right away. I put my hand on her shoulder, and try to smile brightly.
"Hello!" she smiles back at me. "Who are you?"
"It’s Tracey, Gram," I tell her as I sit down."Tracey? The real Tracey?"
She looks me over for a moment. “How'd you get so...well, so wide?"
She slaps her hand over her mouth. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that out loud!""It’s okay, Gram. I don’t mind."
She smiles at me vacantly. I look around and spot my daughter walking in, her head down and her hands in her pockets. She stops at the table and smiles at Gram.
"Oh, my!" Gram's face lights up with a flirtatious smile. "And who is this pretty boy? I really like your curly hair and beautiful blue eyes.""That’s Amanda, Gram,” I tell her, trying not to laugh.
"Amanda? You're little Amanda?"
"Yes, Ma’am.”"Wow! Did you grow up and out!"
She looks at me, "And who are you?"