Until now, Thelma had mostly only gone to the supermarket and her night classes, where she learned about the Bay of Pigs and the JFK assassination.A presidential assassination. Just a few years later!She still couldn’t wrap her head around it, but naturally, Megan treated it as ancient history as they piled into her tiny two-door car. Robbie was at one of his volunteer gigs and had taken the SUV with him.
She watched as Megan situated her phone into a holster and connected it to something called Bluetooth. They had explained what it was to Thelma multiple times, but she still couldn’t quite wrap her head around it.It’s like the internet. But it’s for inter-device communication.Whatever it was, it allowed Megan to pull up a radio station on her phone and produce high-production tunes that sounded nothing like what Thelma was used to.
“Would you rather we listen to something else? Oh!” Megan thrust all of her attention on her phone as she brought up Elvis Presley. “You like Elvis?”
The first few notes of a song called “Can’t Help Falling in Love” permeated the car stereo. While Thelma recognized the King’s voice, she had to confess she didn’t know this song. The tacit implication was that it had come out after her disappearance.
“Oh,” Megan said. “Never mind.”
Like most places, Thelma was overwhelmed by the department store about ten minutes away. If it wasn’t for the speakers promoting the loudest music she ever heard in a store, it was the gobs of fabric on the floor and the children screamingin shopping baskets while mothers pawed through racks of synthetic clothing with large soda cups teetering on the edge ofspilled.Thelma held her hand close to her heart as she stayed close to Megan, who maneuvered a basket toward the women’s clothing section.
“You’re, what, a four? A two?”
“Huh?”
Megan jerked the basket to a stop before a display of denim jeans. “Your size.”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“What size are the ones you’ve got on?”
Before Thelma could think about it, her granddaughter stood behind her, pulling on the waistline of Thelma’s jeans to inspect the tag.
“Me… Meg!”
Thelma searched the faces of the families passing her with their carts full of plastic and electronics.This is definitely not Bullock’s…Even in her jeans and dowdy brown sweater, she was one of the best-dressed women in the whole store.I didn’t think it could get worse than my own granddaughter.Thelma had to willfully overlook Megan’s penchant for showing off herthighs,let alone her midriff. The girl had a lovely figure, yes, but did she have to look like a harlot at her first big dance?No, even the harlots didn’t dress like this.Even the “friendliest” girls in her dorm didn’t go out showing off their skin. They preferred to accentuate their figures with thin fabric and skirts that swished around their legs.
But based on what Thelma saw while Megan yanked on the size tag in her jeans? Things could be worse. Her granddaughter could have thin straps barely holding up her breasts while half her buttocks was on full display in the middle of adepartment store!
Tears welled in Thelma’s eyes. It didn’t matter that nobody watched them or cared. Thelma cared. Everything was loud, bright, andso damn smelly.What was that smell!
“These say two.” Megan released her grandmother. “We’ll start there. What else do we need? Underwear? Some bras? Come on, let’s get you a couple of dresses!”
“Let’s just find a shopgirl to help me,” Thelma said after attempting to recollect her demeanor. “Give her my size and we’ll tell her what I like.”
“Huh? Shopgirl?”
Thelma couldn’t believe the disbelief she heard in her granddaughter’s voice. “You’re kidding me. No more shopgirls?”
“We’re on our own here, Gran… erm…”
They stood between the table of folded jeans and a rack of empty plastic hangers. Thelma pursed her lips. Finally, they had approached this moment.
But did it have to happenhere?
“Just call me Thelma. Please.”
“Right. Thelma…”
The sounds around them dulled. Suddenly, Thelma didn’t smell that odor anymore.
“Did you know your other grandmother, Meg?”
The young woman absentmindedly looked through a stack of jeans. “Not really. My mom’s mom died when I was a kid. I didn’t get to visit her much. As for you… well, we assumed you were dead.”
“To be fair, I was. For about sixty years.”
“Dead implies there’s a body somewhere. Or at least your energy has returned to the universe, you know?” Megan plucked a pair of size twos from the bottom of the pile. “That’s what I think when we talk about this stuff. Physics matter. Where was yourmatterduring sixty years?”
