Day 7: Telephone

I almost left this one untitled, because any title I can think of feels either too obvious or dramatic or overblown.  But I think this one works for me.  

Telephone

"I went to lunch with your grandfather and grandmother," he says.

I go still on my end of the phone line as I realize

this conversation is not the one I thought it was.

I pause to weigh my options.

"Don't you know your grandmother and grandfather?" he snaps.

"Grandfather," I address him gently, "Doris was my grandmother."

"No no.  Nope.  No.  That's wrong.  Lynn is your mother," he says.

I don't know who Lynn is. 

I wonder if he does.

"Did you have a good lunch?" I ask. 

He rambles about his turkey sandwich and ponders 

whether I know Rose while I breathe. 

I don't know Rose - turns out she's the lady at the bank.

I store this in my memory for later:

there is so much living in the details.

"After all these years you're finally telling me that your mother is my daughter?"

His voice rises such that I can't tell if he's joking.

"I'll be damned."

We laugh and - for a moment - my heart eases.

"Happy birthday, Grandfather."

"Yeah," he says.  "Thanks, hon."

"I love you," I say.

"Well that's nice to hear," he says

and silence falls between us.

I remind myself to breathe.