Page 15 of Mariposa
I think about you all the time. Your smile gets me through these missions. It’s only been a few weeks, and I already have three friends who are dead. I’m sure you’ll hear about it in the papers soon.
All I can say is thank you. Thank you for writing me a letter. I know you said you didn’t want to start anything with me because of my job…but this letter, Grace. This letter has made me feel like I can breathe for the firsttime in weeks. We will go to that beach when I return. I promise you.
All my love, Graham
“Grandma, this is the sweetest thing. I like Graham, but I’m scared to know what he did to make you choose my grandpa over him.”
Watching my grandma through a phone screen physically hurts. She rocks in her chair, knitting a blanket, and replies, “He was very sweet.”
Her trembling hands are evident even with the screen fighting for its life with the poor WiFi my phone is connected to. A shy smile curves onto her freckled face, and she sets down the blanket to trace the other letters like she’s eighteen again and still in love.
I wonder what that feels like.
I make sure to fold the letter the same way I received it. Dropping to my knees, I hide it under my bed to keep it out of sight. Standing, I brush my palms over my knees and sit on my chair again.
Grandma stops knitting. Her head hangs low, her hands on the knitting needles, and she doesn’t look up to meet my gaze. I want to word vomit everything I’ve been going through and how badly I miss home, and simple things like buying yogurt at my favorite place downtown or sleeping in at least one day out of the week, but I know it’ll only stress her out. She already has so much going on with her health. I can’t add to it.
“Tell me about Graham. What did he look like?”
Her face changes from a dark frown to a bright one like a Christmas tree.
“He’s tall,pero bien alto. Dark hair and light eyes. So handsome and a gentleman just like your grandpa. Your grandpa and I were coworkers at the restaurant where I met Graham. He would get jealous every time Graham came in to see me.” She waves her hand as if dismissing Grandpa’s past envy.
“Wait, was this a love triangle?”
I’m highly invested. I’m so focused on graduating and my career that I’m afraid I’ll never get to experience what love feels like without it hurting. Although there were times with Adam that were joyful, it still doesn’t erase his betrayal.
She tilts her head back and forth, contemplating. “Maybe, maybe not. You have to keep reading to find out.”
I clap my hands once, excitedly. “I can’t wait to find out why you chose Grandpa over him, and what he did to win you over.”
Bending over, I reach for more letters under the bed. Out of the corner of my eye, my grandma’s finger taps the phone, forcing me to stop. I’ve never seen her move that fast.
“One letter at a time!Ya te dije.” She scolds me loudly, raising one brow high and causing creases to form on her forehead.
“Abuelita…” I pout.
“Look, I don’t want you to finish the letters before your graduation. Promise you’ll wait for me?”
“And what if I don’t make it?” My confidence shrinks momentarily. Beast is constantly watching me like a hawk, waiting for an opportunity to grill me until I say the wordsI quit.
“You will pass. Don’t talk like that,” she scolds me. “Just stay focused and confident.”
“Most of my instructors are waiting to see me fail. They want me to quit.” I roll my eyes, biting my nails nervously when Master Sergeant O’Connell comes to mind. Tall, dark, handsome, and all mean. He treats and looks at me like I’m a nuisance he can’t wait to get rid of. Every other instructor letstheir guard down—even if it’s for a second to laugh with us. However, Master Sergeant is a machine with no sense of humor. I still think he’s a robot hiding underneath a meat suit.
“I promise you’ll pass,” she says comfortingly. Her eyes squint in a way that’s maternal and warm.
“I know I will, too.”
She nods supportively.
“Even though you won’t be home, I’m making flan for your grandpa’s birthday because I know it’s your favorite.”
A weight falls from my shoulders. She remembers his birthday coming up.
She remembers.
“Really?” I squeak, as my mouth waters, as I imagine the soft pudding-like texture melting in my mouth.
