Mary Rose does the same thing.”
“She never eavesdropped,” said my grandmother.
But my mother was too busy telling me off to hear. “All you have to do, Mary Rose,” said my mother, “is just knock at the door and say you want to come in and join us. I won’t have you listening outside! It’s sneaky and dishonest.”
She shook my arm, not really hard, but I burst out crying, and said, “You never tell me anything important.”
“Now why are you going after her?” said my grandmother. “She’s only eleven. What’s the matter with you, Veronica? Come here, Mary Rose. Come here, darling.”
I knelt down next to her chair and laid my head on her chest. She’s got such a big, comfortable, warm chest—not hard and bony like my mother’s. She knelt over me, and kissed my head and stroked my back, and said what a wonderful girl I was.
After a while she said to my mother, “I’m so happy you named her Mary Rose. It was worth everything to me. You’d think Stanley with his four girls could have named one of them Mary Rose, but that wife of his— that woman would die rather than give me a bit of pleasure. But at least you did the right thing. You didn’t let anything or anybody stop you. It sort of made up for all the years I suffered over you—such a smart, pretty girl you were—and a doctor too. You could have married anybody ...”
“Mama!”
“What did I say?” said my grandmother.
Chapter 4
My grandmother had certain TV programs that she never missed. Like “The Newlyweds” or “The Dating Game.” If my mother was around, she would go out of the room while my grandmother was watching, or if she was in the room, straightening up, maybe, she wouldn’t exactly say anything, but you would get the message anyway that she thought those TV programs were pretty stupid.
It was fun when my mother was out. My grandmother would watch all her programs, and she and I could laugh and get excited without feeling there was somebody around who thought we were stupid for enjoying ourselves so much.
My grandmother liked “The Dating Game” especially. She and I always tried to guess who was going to date who. Sometimes she really disagreed with how it all worked out.
“That girl ought to have her head examined,” she might say, or, “I would never go out with a man like that.”
She noticed the kind of clothes they wore, their hair styles and make-up. She thought most of the girls wore their skirts too short, and the men wore their hair too long. I never thought old ladies would still be interested in dates and dating the way she was.
She told me how she met Ralph, her second husband. She and her first husband (my grandfather, Frank Ganz, who lives in Arizona) were divorced, and she had my mother and Mary Rose to look after. They were both little kids, and one day, she took them with her into the cleaning store. There was a new man working there.
“Was he handsome?” I asked. “What did he look like?”
“Very handsome,” she said. “I always went for good-looking men.” She giggled, and her old face had laughing wrinkles around her mouth. “Do you remember that fellow on yesterday’s show—with the vest and the striped pants? Something like that.”
“So? ... Go on, Grandma. What happened?”
“Well, I put down the coat I wanted to have cleaned, and instead of looking at the coat, he looked at me. And really, Mary Rose, I was worth looking at, I must say. Everybody always said what bright blue eyes I had, but my complexion was very good too. And believe it or not, I never put a thing on my face. And then, I had this white blouse with a little, lace collar. I was always very particular ...”
“And then what happened, Grandma?”
“Well, he said, didn’t he know me from someplace? He was very shy, Mary Rose, and he stuttered a little sometimes, but anyway, he said didn’t he know me, and I said no, and then he saw the children, and asked was I baby-sitting for someone,
“She never eavesdropped,” said my grandmother.
But my mother was too busy telling me off to hear. “All you have to do, Mary Rose,” said my mother, “is just knock at the door and say you want to come in and join us. I won’t have you listening outside! It’s sneaky and dishonest.”
She shook my arm, not really hard, but I burst out crying, and said, “You never tell me anything important.”
“Now why are you going after her?” said my grandmother. “She’s only eleven. What’s the matter with you, Veronica? Come here, Mary Rose. Come here, darling.”
I knelt down next to her chair and laid my head on her chest. She’s got such a big, comfortable, warm chest—not hard and bony like my mother’s. She knelt over me, and kissed my head and stroked my back, and said what a wonderful girl I was.
After a while she said to my mother, “I’m so happy you named her Mary Rose. It was worth everything to me. You’d think Stanley with his four girls could have named one of them Mary Rose, but that wife of his— that woman would die rather than give me a bit of pleasure. But at least you did the right thing. You didn’t let anything or anybody stop you. It sort of made up for all the years I suffered over you—such a smart, pretty girl you were—and a doctor too. You could have married anybody ...”
“Mama!”
“What did I say?” said my grandmother.
Chapter 4
My grandmother had certain TV programs that she never missed. Like “The Newlyweds” or “The Dating Game.” If my mother was around, she would go out of the room while my grandmother was watching, or if she was in the room, straightening up, maybe, she wouldn’t exactly say anything, but you would get the message anyway that she thought those TV programs were pretty stupid.
It was fun when my mother was out. My grandmother would watch all her programs, and she and I could laugh and get excited without feeling there was somebody around who thought we were stupid for enjoying ourselves so much.
My grandmother liked “The Dating Game” especially. She and I always tried to guess who was going to date who. Sometimes she really disagreed with how it all worked out.
“That girl ought to have her head examined,” she might say, or, “I would never go out with a man like that.”
She noticed the kind of clothes they wore, their hair styles and make-up. She thought most of the girls wore their skirts too short, and the men wore their hair too long. I never thought old ladies would still be interested in dates and dating the way she was.
She told me how she met Ralph, her second husband. She and her first husband (my grandfather, Frank Ganz, who lives in Arizona) were divorced, and she had my mother and Mary Rose to look after. They were both little kids, and one day, she took them with her into the cleaning store. There was a new man working there.
“Was he handsome?” I asked. “What did he look like?”
“Very handsome,” she said. “I always went for good-looking men.” She giggled, and her old face had laughing wrinkles around her mouth. “Do you remember that fellow on yesterday’s show—with the vest and the striped pants? Something like that.”
“So? ... Go on, Grandma. What happened?”
“Well, I put down the coat I wanted to have cleaned, and instead of looking at the coat, he looked at me. And really, Mary Rose, I was worth looking at, I must say. Everybody always said what bright blue eyes I had, but my complexion was very good too. And believe it or not, I never put a thing on my face. And then, I had this white blouse with a little, lace collar. I was always very particular ...”
“And then what happened, Grandma?”
“Well, he said, didn’t he know me from someplace? He was very shy, Mary Rose, and he stuttered a little sometimes, but anyway, he said didn’t he know me, and I said no, and then he saw the children, and asked was I baby-sitting for someone,
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