Page 64 of A Summer Mismatch
“I know.”
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out as she followed Grandpa into the house.
Logan:Do you want to go to the Watermelon Gala?
Logan:With me, I mean.
Her heart skipped. Did she want to go with him? More than anything. She imagined a night under the stars with Logan, music playing in the background and the delicious food spread out on tables.
But should she go with him? She needed some advice.
Dinner crawled by, though Grandma had made her family-famous pizza rolls with cut-up watermelon as a side, which had been Julia’s favorite for as long as she could remember.
Cameron had discovered the names of the States page on his talker, and they spent most of dinner listening to him go through the states alphabetically, and then the capitals of each state. Every time he pressed a new button he hadn’t heard before, he pulled his hands to his chest and smiled at each of them like he was proud of himself.
They all smiled back, and Grandma and Grandpa repeated each state after he picked it, sometimes adding details to it like, “Florida! We live in Florida.” Or “Massachusetts! Aunt Eliana lives in Massachusetts.”
Each time he’d pause and laugh a little, press that state button again, and then move on to the next one.
Julia was relieved for the space to think about what shewantedto do about the gala versus what maybe sheshoulddo. By the time they finished dinner, and Cameron and Grandpa left to go for a walk down to the beach where Grandpa had spotted some turtles earlier, Grandma Winnie had realized something was up.
“What’s got you so quiet tonight?” Grandma Winnie asked. She stood to go clean the kitchen, but Julia waved her back into her seat.
“It’s my turn to clean up.”
She’d noticed her grandma rubbing her swollen knuckles all through dinner, a sure sign that her arthritis was acting up. Julia noticed the stack of projects at the sewing table in the corner. Grandma’s arthritis always acted up when she sewed too much.
“Can I get your arthritis cream for you?” she asked.
Grandma nodded. “It’s behind the mirror in my bathroom.”
Julia snagged the arthritis medication and brought it back to Grandma, watching as she methodically rubbed the cream on her red, swollen knuckles. “Is it something you want to talk about?” Grandma said, not looking up from her hands.
“Yes. And no. I’m worried you’re going to be upset.”
“What is it?” Grandma raised her eyebrows and finally looked up at Julia, compassion in her eyes.
“Logan asked me to the Watermelon Gala.”
Grandma sat up straighter, her eyes bright with excitement. “That’s wonderful!”
”Is it?” Julia let out a short sigh. “Grandpa wouldn’t think so.”
Grandma set her cream down and leaned her elbow against the table. “You can’t live your life based on what other people want. Or, in this case, don’t want.”
“I know.” Julia studied her own hands, with their calluses from holding a pencil, to the paint in the creases from craft time, to keep from meeting her grandma’s eyes.
“Do you know?” Winnie patted her hand gently. “I think you realize that on some level, but your actions don’t support that knowledge.”
“It makes me feel panicky when I think about letting someone down.”
“It takes practice. But you have to believe that what you want is just as important as what everyone else wants. More important, when it comes to your own life.”
“I do believe that, but it’s hard to do.”
“Okay, let’s start small.” Winnie looked around the room, and then got a small, mischievous grin. “What is something you wish you could tell me but you’re afraid it will disappoint me?”
“Nothing!” Julia’s heart pounded. “I love you, Grandma!”
