Full of Grace Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Dorothea Benton Frank
in baking, or that I was gone so much cookies would be wasted? Even though all three possibilities were fact, I pouted. But Frank was always the one in the family to call a thing what it was and he was right. I looked at my brother, and in the blue light of the kitchen cabinet’s underlighting, I saw how strongly he resembled our father, and had the thought that he was a kinder, more educated and definitely more genteel version of Al.
“You’re right. You look like the old man, you know.”
“There are worse things, I think,” he said. “So what’s the deal with this guy Michael?”
“We’re living together in mortal sin,” I said with a little laugh, and dipped my cookie in the milk.
“In the house Al bought? Is he Italian?”
“No, he’s Irish. I’m going to hell for all of eternity.”
“Okay, you’re a fornicating sinner and your eternal soul is smeared with mortal sin like cream cheese on a bagel. Well, at least he’s Catholic.”
“Not really. He sort of believes in science more than the Church.”
“Okay, let’s sum this up. You’re living with an agnostic Irish guy in a house Big Al paid for and you’ve got no intention of marrying him either, right? And he does embryonic stem-cell research for a living, which is solidly condemned by the pope? And his mother is in a nursing home! And you want to know why he’s not the favorite son?” Frank started to laugh and then added, “You’re crazy!”
I laughed with him, got up to bring the cookie jar back to the kitchen table, and when I sat down again I said, “So he does stem-cell research. Big deal. He’s a Rhodes scholar, for God’s sake.”
“The only Rhodes Big Al cares about are the ones he paved himself, lemme assure you.”
“Yeah, well, Michael says that if we can manage to stay alive until 2050 , we can live to be five thousand years old and in perfect health.”
“Five thousand years? Who wants to live for five thousand years? Would you?”
“I don’t know. To tell you the truth, I’m not so sure it will work on people anyway, except that they have some pretty amazing evidence on age reversal with rats.”
“It always starts with the poor lab rats, right?”
“Well, Professor, they share like ninety-nine percent of our genetic code or something…or maybe it’s mice?”
“Immaterial. No, I know that. I mean, think about it. It does proffer some extremely interesting ethical questions, like how would you end life—when you hit your five thousandth birthday?”
“Seriously. Can you imagine what you’d look like in a bathing suit at five thousand?”
“Let’s not go there. It’s bad enough now,” Frank said. He got up andpoured himself a glass of water. “So how’d you like old Nonna ripping Connie a new one at dinner? She’s getting meaner than hell.”
“She’s always been mean to Mom, but now she’s mean in front of anyone. I think it’s a little weird that Dad doesn’t ever come to Mom’s defense, but I guess he figures Nonna is old and all.”
“Who knows? Anyway, I wouldn’t get too shook up over their opinions of Michael. Remember Sophocles said, ‘The good befriend themselves.’ As long as you are happy and satisfied with your relationship, that’s all that matters.”
“You guys still up?” Regina came around the corner in an oversize Rutgers jersey and flip-flops. “I’m so tired I could die.” Frank got up and pulled out a chair for his wife. She sank into it and put her head on her crossed arms on the table.
“I’m an old woman tonight,” she said. “All I see when I close my eyes is interstate.”
I smiled and tried to remember if Michael had ever pulled out chairs for me. I wasn’t sure, and I decided if I wasn’t sure, then it probably wasn’t something that really mattered. Still, it was a nice gesture and Regina kissed her husband in thanks. They had an easy tenderness between them that was enviable.
“Want booze or milk?” I said, pushing the biscotti in
“You’re right. You look like the old man, you know.”
“There are worse things, I think,” he said. “So what’s the deal with this guy Michael?”
“We’re living together in mortal sin,” I said with a little laugh, and dipped my cookie in the milk.
“In the house Al bought? Is he Italian?”
“No, he’s Irish. I’m going to hell for all of eternity.”
“Okay, you’re a fornicating sinner and your eternal soul is smeared with mortal sin like cream cheese on a bagel. Well, at least he’s Catholic.”
“Not really. He sort of believes in science more than the Church.”
“Okay, let’s sum this up. You’re living with an agnostic Irish guy in a house Big Al paid for and you’ve got no intention of marrying him either, right? And he does embryonic stem-cell research for a living, which is solidly condemned by the pope? And his mother is in a nursing home! And you want to know why he’s not the favorite son?” Frank started to laugh and then added, “You’re crazy!”
I laughed with him, got up to bring the cookie jar back to the kitchen table, and when I sat down again I said, “So he does stem-cell research. Big deal. He’s a Rhodes scholar, for God’s sake.”
“The only Rhodes Big Al cares about are the ones he paved himself, lemme assure you.”
“Yeah, well, Michael says that if we can manage to stay alive until 2050 , we can live to be five thousand years old and in perfect health.”
“Five thousand years? Who wants to live for five thousand years? Would you?”
“I don’t know. To tell you the truth, I’m not so sure it will work on people anyway, except that they have some pretty amazing evidence on age reversal with rats.”
“It always starts with the poor lab rats, right?”
“Well, Professor, they share like ninety-nine percent of our genetic code or something…or maybe it’s mice?”
“Immaterial. No, I know that. I mean, think about it. It does proffer some extremely interesting ethical questions, like how would you end life—when you hit your five thousandth birthday?”
“Seriously. Can you imagine what you’d look like in a bathing suit at five thousand?”
“Let’s not go there. It’s bad enough now,” Frank said. He got up andpoured himself a glass of water. “So how’d you like old Nonna ripping Connie a new one at dinner? She’s getting meaner than hell.”
“She’s always been mean to Mom, but now she’s mean in front of anyone. I think it’s a little weird that Dad doesn’t ever come to Mom’s defense, but I guess he figures Nonna is old and all.”
“Who knows? Anyway, I wouldn’t get too shook up over their opinions of Michael. Remember Sophocles said, ‘The good befriend themselves.’ As long as you are happy and satisfied with your relationship, that’s all that matters.”
“You guys still up?” Regina came around the corner in an oversize Rutgers jersey and flip-flops. “I’m so tired I could die.” Frank got up and pulled out a chair for his wife. She sank into it and put her head on her crossed arms on the table.
“I’m an old woman tonight,” she said. “All I see when I close my eyes is interstate.”
I smiled and tried to remember if Michael had ever pulled out chairs for me. I wasn’t sure, and I decided if I wasn’t sure, then it probably wasn’t something that really mattered. Still, it was a nice gesture and Regina kissed her husband in thanks. They had an easy tenderness between them that was enviable.
“Want booze or milk?” I said, pushing the biscotti in