Page 33 of Piece By Piece

This time, I can’t hold my tongue despite my better judgment. “You know, maybe the reason she was different with me is that you just didn’t fucking deserve her benevolence,” I snap.

“What was that?” he replies, sitting up straighter in his chair as if he was ready to finally get to his feet. Maybe this is when he finally attacks me and gives me an excuse to hurt him. It would put those boxing skills he’s been drilling into me to good use. My nerves are humming at the prospect.

“I said, maybe the reason she treated you badly was that you deserved it. Rosie was never anything less than loving with me. Maybe you just weren’t worth the effort!” I seethe, taking a step forward. My mother tries to hold me back in vain.

“Sebastian, please,” she pleads silently. For once, her voice isn’t enough to make me return to my senses.

My father gets to his feet, bringing us eye to eye. “What about your mother? Did she deserve to be called a dirty immigrant? And being told to go back to Argentina?” he challenges, his face red.

It’s funny how he almost sounds as if he cared about my mom and what people call her when really, all he gives a fuck about is his own reputation. Whatever he’s referring to must’ve hurt his pride more than triggered any protectiveness.

But this is the first time I hear him mention something like this in connection to my grandmother, so I hesitate. She wouldn’t really have said something like that, right? I’m aware of the differences the women had because Rosie didn’t approve of my dad’s divorce and didn’t like him remarrying.

What if those problems had a different source than I thought, though? It would certainly hurt my image of my grandmother if she turned out to be a racist.

My mom speaks before either one of us can. “William, that is enough. She’s his grandmother,” she insists. It’s hardly the denial I was hoping for.

“He’s wasting his time on her. Time he could be using to get his average grades to be more than that. Or to perfect his skills in the gym,” the old man practically spits. “Now stay out of this and keep your mouth shut.”

Yeah, that does it for me. I take another step forward, done with him disrespecting women that mean something to me. “You know what, how about I show you just how much I’ve perfected those skills?” I dare him, squaring my shoulders.

He bristles. “Watch your tone with me, young man. Don’t forget your place.”

“Don’t forget yours. That’s your wife you’re talking to,” I retort. We’re nearly standing chest to chest now while my mother tries to force us apart.

“Stop, please. Come on, men. Let’s all come down,” she begs. Her voice is horribly shaky and it’s enough to make me pause. Knowing that she grew up in a household where violence was an everyday occurrence, I’d hate to think that we’re triggering her.

It takes all my self-restraint, but I finally let her push me back a step. As soon as my old man is out of my personal space, I’m able to breathe again. When I see my dad sit down and my mother turns to me with tears in her eyes, I feel like shit.

“Alight, I’m going to my room,” I excuse myself. My mom wipes at her face.

“Yes, yes. I’m coming with you,” she tells me. I step aside to let her lead the way. Then I silently follow her to my room.

“Don’t listen to what your father said about Rosie. We had a rough start, but it was a long time ago,” she says once we’re in my old bedroom, sitting on the edge of my bed. I sit down next to her and hide my face in my hands, sighing.

“She really said those things?” I ask even though I don’t want to know the answer. Even though I already do know it.

“She did. At first. I think she was just sad about how William ended things with Diana and how quickly I replaced her as his wife. You know how she was after your grandpa’s death. She never even looked at another man. She didn’t understand how your father could end his marriage willingly. Don’t hold it against her now.”

Even though I can feel my chest and head protest at the prospect that my sweet grandma isn’t so sweet after all, I nod. People are layered, and just because Rosie was always sweet with me doesn’t mean she’s entirely good. My mother goes on, “How was your visit today?”

At least at that, I perk up a little. Only that it’s the thought of a certain nurse that lifts my spirits rather than my grandmother. “It was good. She made friends with a nurse there and we all played some Cribbage together.”

My mother smiles knowingly. “That’s great to hear, although I’m surprised that the nurse knows the game. How old is she?” she asks slyly. I see right through her.

“She’s my age,” I confirm. Then, just because I suddenly get the urge to move on, I add, “Her name is Aliena and she’s been looking after grandma for one and a half years. They seem kind of close. It was nice to know thatgrandma wasn’t alone all this time, you know. Aliena even buys her flowers in my father’s name every now and again.”

By the time I’m done, my mother is positively beaming. “She sounds very lovely. Will you see her again?” she asks.

I shrug nonchalantly even though I already planned my next visit. I asked about Aliena’s schedule before I left. “If she’s working the next time I go, I’m sure I’ll say hello.”

“Oh, tell her hi from me too,” my mom says but I laugh and shake my head.

“I definitely can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because, mom, I’d be telling her that I told you about her. I’d come across like a sociopath,” I explain.

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