Page 27 of Anytime I Want

“Oh, no, a text is just fine. I have grandkids. They’ve all taught me how to text. I can even send GIFs. I’m pretty hip, I'd say.” Mabel puts a hand to her hip, channeling some sass that I absolutely love. I try to hide my smile while she rattles off her phone number.

“You do sound very up to date.” I type a quick text and slide my phone into my pocket. “Okay, I just sent you a text. I’ll see you later.”

“Now, wait a minute. When are you coming back? I would like to go with you to sign up for the variety show. We could pretend that I am your grandma so that you can perform. I’ve tried to get my granddaughter to perform but she’s too busy doing her school stuff. Do you go to Desert Valley? That’s where she goes.”

I let my eyes trail over her with her snow white hair and dark skin, trying to think who it could be. “Yep, that’s my school. I’m sorry, though. I gotta go. I’ll think about performing, but don’t give up on your granddaughter! I bet she’s lovely. But, I will text you next time I come on a run. It’s not consistent, but I’ll see what I can do. It was nice to meet you.” I smile, wave, and run toward my house. By the time I get home, my throat feels a little raw so I go into the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice. Does orange juice really help with a sore throat? I have no idea, but Mom swears by it. Mom is sitting at the table with her laptopopen in front of her, the table covered in swatches of fabric, with random glasses, plates, and centerpieces.

Ten years ago, my mom decided that she needed something—a hobby, a passion, something to fill her time and her soul, as she says. She thought about going back to work, she thought about joining PTA and volunteering at the schools, she thought about trying to start a social media account and gain a following. She told me that she realized what she really wanted was a community. So, she recruited Emily, Graham’s mom, also known as Aunty Em. They decided to throw a women’s gala. They charged tickets, found a venue, a caterer, and just hung out. They all dressed up, came together as women, and supported each other. Whatever money was left over after expenses, my mom donated to a local women’s shelter. Every year it grew. They added a silent auction one year.The next, they added performances. They started implementing themes. One year, they started inviting spouses, and eventually, at the end of the night, they would vote on who to donate the proceeds to the next year. I love it. Last year was the first time I was able to attend, and it was so cool. I loved seeing all the auction items that were donated. I loved watching everyone be together, supporting one another. I loved getting dressed up, eating fancy food, all while helping people. It’s not entirely altruistic, but I still think it counts. This year’s theme is A Library of Fairy Tales. Mom spent hours researching fairy tales, collecting trinkets and leather-bound books. It’s going to be amazing.

“Hey, Mom. Can I help?” I ask, sitting down next to her. She pulls her earbud out and gives me a tired but excited smile.

“I would love that. Let’s talk color schemes. I’m thinking pink and gold, but Emily wants blue and silver. I feel like the dress scene from the Disney movie.” She snaps her fingers. “Why can’t I remember it?” She chuckles.

“Sleeping Beauty,” I mumble, my eyes and fingers trailing over the fabrics. “Well, why not both? There must be good shades of blue and pink that don’t give gender reveal vibes.”

“Hmm, well, there’s an idea. Sometimes it’s hard to work with people. I just think my ideas are the best ones.” We laugh together and start matching different swatches. “Anyways, tell me about your run.”

“I went to that fifty-five plus community. I met a cute old woman named Mabel. She overheard me singing and asked me to pretend to be her granddaughter, so I could perform in the monthly variety show at the neighborhood clubhouse.” I laugh, expecting her to join in because it was a ridiculous idea.

“Wait, isn’t there something about a performance on your list?”

“Mom, how do you know what’s on my list?”

“Oh.” She bats her hand in the air, as if shoving aside a silly question. “I asked Graham for a copy.”

“Mom! No! What on earth?”

“I want to help. Or at least be an invested spectator. I love love stories, and I would hate to miss my only daughter’s. With her twin brother’s best friend, my best friend's son, and the boy next door? Come on.”

“Okay, well, I think I’m ready to shower.” I put four colors together and push back from the table, grabbing my cup to put in the sink. I try to hide my face because it’s feeling pretty warm, and I can only imagine how red it is. I hate being embarrassed about this, but really, thisisa little embarrassing.

“Let yourself love!” Mom calls as I walk out of the kitchen. “Haha,” she says quietly, obviously talking to herself. “That was fun. Just the little jolt I needed. Back to color schemes. Oo, this group is nice.” I glance over my shoulder and smile, seeing her pick up the last four I picked out.

Chapter 16

Graham

“Where’s Julia?” Chloe asks Nathan as I’m walking across my front yard to their car on Monday morning.

“She’s staying home. Sore throat, I think. Probably too much singing while she thinks no one is listening.” Nathan shrugs.

“Whoa, whoa, wait. You get to hear her sing? I want to hear her sing,” I say, inserting myself into the conversation. “Also, I call bringing her her homework.”

“Yeah, no one is fighting you for that,” Chloe says, climbing into the back seat of the car. “If she really is sick, she’ll haveto know that I love and support her from a distance. I do not want to get sick. It’s Halloween week, and the Winter Formal is coming up. Way too much to do.”

I laugh to myself. Chloe isn’t actually a part of any of the planning, but she loves to participate. Every year, the week of Halloween, the student council plans a spirit week with candy grams for sale. Today is a school color dress-up day, and she went all out dressing up. She is also anxiously waiting for any news on who is taking whom to the Winter Formal and how they asked. Chloe is decked out in orange and gray—ribbons in her hair, DVHS painted on her cheeks. I am also wearing orange. I participate, but, like, a normal amount. Nathan’s wearing his baseball jersey and a backwards hat. That’s about as good as it gets with him. I hope whoever he dates next is really into this kind of stuff and drags him along. I would love to watch that.

“It’s too bad she’s sick, but it works in your favor, I suppose,” Nathan says, pulling out of the driveway.

“Uhm, no?” I’m not sure why this would be a good thing for me.

“The List. Doesn’t it say ‘take care of her when she’s sick’?”

“Bringing up the list?” Chloe asks. “You and Julia are so alike, both trying to pretend you aren’t as invested as you really are.”

Nathan opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off, not willing to listen to them fight right now.

“Yes!” I crow. “It does say that. God loves me! I forgot! When I first read the list, I was worried she wasn’t going to get sick before Christmas, and I wouldn’t get to finish.” I look at Nathan, seeing a look of disapproval. “Wait, not like that. I hate that she’s sick. Besides you’re the one who said this is convenient for me.”

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