Chapter 97 - No Regrets I cornered Grandma one evening as she wrapped up a painting to store in her room for future use. "
Grandma," I began, knowing the subject I was about to introduce was practically taboo, "
who was Miles?"
I had taken her by surprise--she almost dropped the painting. It was one of my favorites, a bouquet of brilliantly colored flowers. The colors almost seemed to drip from the canvas and form shapes in the air. "
Miles wasn't anyone especially important," she answered carefully, "
he was my college boyfriend. And your mother's biological father."
"
Did you love him?"
"
No. He was a nice guy, but I didn't love him. Why do you ask?"
I shifted from foot to foot sheepishly. "
I'm just curious, Grandma. Do you ever wonder what would have happened? If, say, there was no dynasty and no Grandma Bianca?"
She laughed and answered, turning to the TV, "
I suppose we would be kind of like the family on that sitcom, the one no one can ever remember the name of." Grandma flipped through the channels until she found the correct one, and turned up the volume.
"
Meet the Forthrights, Butterfly. That would be Miles, the boring balding businessman with a somewhat successful, comfortable career and board-game night every other Thursday."
"
He doesn't seem at all your type, Grandma."
"
He was much more dashing when we first met, but no, he really isn't my type. For one thing, he's a man."
"
Now introducing the rebellious teenage daughter with a motorcycle the size of her attitude!"
"
Is that you?"
"
Believe me, I wish! But no, that's the rebellious teenage daughter, Samantha."
The narrator on TV continued, "
And, the glue of the family, Katherine Forthright! She's a housewife with a part-time job at the spa and a no-nonsense wardrobe."
"
Oh, please tell me that isn't--"
"Samantha, can you please go up to your room and practice violin before dinner?" Mrs. Forthright asked. Samantha rolled her eyes, eliciting a laugh from the studio audience.
"
Trust me, Mikayla, I have no regrets."
"
Why are you two watching that ridiculous show?" Mama inquired, turning off the TV. "
Mikayla, sweetheart, Jerry's down in the basement preparing a surprise romantic evening. Mother, you have work tomorrow, so you should be heading off to bed. Now, I'm going to go Woohoo with Bubba until seven A.M."
"
Iris Bianca, I don't need to hear about that," Grandma moaned.
"
Aw, how cute!" I exclaimed. They both turned to look at me like I was insane.
I zipped down to Level B2 to find a romantic dinner laid out with orange rose petals and candles all lit. We ate and I told him all about Grandma's love history, and how waterfalls were really tiny fairies with flashlights, then we made out for a while before going to bed. If you know what I mean.
There are more and more ghosts out every night. We're still not allowed to speak to them, but I sometimes watch through the telescope I converted to binoculars. The most I've seen in one night is five--I recognized none of them, but they all glowed silver with little sparkles of other colors. The colors mingled as they spoke silently, and I tried hard to hear what they were saying but all I heard was little chimes.
The morning of Jerry's big show, I threw him into the spinny globe to calm his nerves.
We arrived at the gig five minutes early, and I gave him a quick long kiss (that is not a typo) before he ran off to set up the stage.
I felt like my blood caught on fire the moment the show began and wasn't extinguished until the minute after the minute after the minute after the minute that it ended. Jerry was absolutely thrilling.
I'd invited out his entire family, but only a few of his siblings showed up. I had a fantastic time sitting with them and cheering, holding up my cell phone like a candle.
Sometimes my mind flashes to where he is, gazing out over the crowd of lights and people. He is a jungle cat, balancing precariously and perfectly on the rolling ball surrounded by flames. It's so beautiful, I almost tear up.
The Holloi Polloi Center truly is enormous. It's nothing but darkness penetrated by the lights of cell phones as far as you can see. And then, like an enormous beacon blazing through the inky cloud, is the stage with my beautiful husband performing impossible feats.
He looked at me and blew a kiss as the lights went down and the crowd behind us faded, like ghosts with silver auras tinged with colors and silent voices that chimed in the night.
We lost each other in the noise and confusion but met outside the doors as people came streaming out, and I was so proud I didn't know where to begin. But I did find a way to start off the conversation.
