Lost Journals

The ride across town was a trip through regretful reverie.

Peri drove past a small west-end grocer. She could picture her grandfather sitting in the parking lot in his green Ford LTD, scratching a handful of lottery tickets praying the next one would be the last he'd have to buy. She passed the skating rink where she'd first been kissed by David O'Leary, the hospital where she was brought screaming into this world 27 years ago and where the nuns counseled and consoled her after Sean's death.

Grandma Betty hadn't moved in 15 years. The ranch house was a shadow of its former glory and where lawn ornaments came to die. Each year Grandma would get a new trinket for her yard and each summer it was either stolen or destroyed.

Grandma whooped when Peri walked in. The first grandchild and the family's last hope, she was a welcome sight. The other grandchildren were either in prison or on too many drugs to remember this lonely woman.

Normally, Betty was the image of grandmotherly perfection. Today, however, her hair had a weird blue-white glow like snow under a full moon.

"Do you need a toothbrush?" Grandma asked instead of the customary hello. "I was cleaning out the bathroom today and found five of 'em. It's even still in the package."

"Sure, a toothbrush would be nice," Peri said lacking any other response.

Grandma was the queen of bizarre presents. While Peri was at college, Grandma would send random gifts and cards: she'd sent cold and flu medicine in the middle of summer, Halloween decorations at Easter, and Polaroid Instamatic film when Peri took a 35mm photography class. The gifts had stopped in recent years as Grandpa was disable by asthma and his gambling debts had tripled due to boredom.

Betty handed off the packaged dental device mid-hug. "What are you doing out there in Colorado?"

"Same thing I was doing last year. Working, going to class, trying to graduate."

"You still haven't met anyone out there?" Betty asked.

And there it was. Peri's most dreaded question. The inquiry that stopped all conversation and left her fumbling for words.

"I haven't had much luck."

"There's got to be someone in your life. What happened to the guy you were dating a few months ago?"

"How's Grandpa?"

"He should be home on Sunday. The doctors say he's recovering but I just don't know."