But as much as I wanted to go find my brother’s sweats and hide again, I couldn’t. And not because Mom immediately took those sweats out of the laundry and was likely digging a hole in the backyard to bury them in. I couldn’t because it didn’t feel right anymore. Somewhere between being smothered by hugs from my parents and Gabby and Nittha’s encouragement, I’d changed. If I wasn’t going to hide the good stuff from my parents, I couldn’t hide stuff from BamBam either. She’d alwaysbeen on my side of the happiness equation. Leaving her out because I was scared felt wrong.
Biting down on my lip, I twisted the doorknob at the same time as I knocked. Poking my head around the door, I called, “BamBam, can I come in?”
“In here,” she answered from the living room. Holding my breath, I stepped into the apartment and closed the door. The first thing anyone saw when they walked into BamBam’s place was her bright, friendly kitchen, up in yellows and gingham. Once I rounded the corner into her living room, I’d find her tucked into her usual corner of the sofa. She might not want me to come back here for a while. The thought of not seeing her or this place again caused tears I didn’t know I had left to prickle at the back of my eyes.
Exhaling, I pulled at the sleeves of my lavender-colored long-sleeved shirt, then slipped off my shoes and shuffled into the living room. BamBam was sitting exactly where I expected, clutching a physical copy of our neighborhood newspaper. As she glanced up over the paper, BamBam’s smile faded as soon as she saw me. “Hey, baby, what’s going on?”
“Nothing much.” I did my best to sound casual even as the pit of my stomach plummeted. BamBam raised an eyebrow at me in a way that said she 100 percent did not believe me, and what little calm I’d managed to muster evaporated. “I need to tell you something.”
“Okay, have a seat.” BamBam set the paper on the arm of the sofa and patted the space next to her. Fixing me with animpassive stare as soon as I sat down, she asked, “What’s going on?”
“I lied to you, and I’m not proud of it. I’m sorry.” I said the words in a quick and messy tumble, forcing myself to look her in the eye as I apologized.
“Lied about what?” BamBam said, her voice as even and patient as it had been when I was six.
“I lied about where I was and who I was with in Las Vegas.” I grimaced. From her end of the couch, BamBam watched me, her lips pursed to the side as she waited for more details. It was clear from her expression that she wasn’t pleased, and she was not about to make this easy on me.
“Remember when I asked if you wanted to enter the contest for the TrendCon vid?” I paused and BamBam nodded, crossing her arms. I directed my gaze toward the fabric of the couch so I wouldn’t lose my nerve, then continued. “Well, when you said no, I went to Nittha and then Gabby, and they were busy, so eventually, I got desperate, and Ethan Wyatt offered to help me.” My armpits were starting to sweat, and the corner of my mind that was not consumed by freaking out noted that I should’ve waited to shower until after I’d had this conversation.
I glanced up to find that BamBam’s expression had not relaxed even a fraction of a centimeter. Taking one hand off her elbow, she gestured at me. “Go on.”
My pulse spiked, and I wondered if BamBam could hear my heart thudding. It felt so loud to me that I was pretty sure half of Chicago could hear it. Attempting a calming breath in through my nose, I then exhaled the words in a rush. “Anyway, we started working on a video, and I got hungry, and he bought me my favorite chips, and we went to the Bellagio fountain andsnuck out to a couple other places—and, actually, Las Vegas is underrated in the romance department, so then we kissed. I really liked Ethan, but then I didn’t want to keep lying to you, so I broke things off, which is why I was crying on the plane. I didn’t mean for this to happen. It just did. And I’m so, so sorry. I know you hate all things Buzzy Timmons.”
I took a deep breath, my entire body feeling like I’d run a mile. BamBam’s eyes had gotten bigger with each hurried word. Now that I was done confessing, she narrowed them at me. My molars were clenched so hard that my jaw hurt, and I didn’t dare breathe. I hadn’t been exaggerating when I’d told Ethan that BamBam was my lifeline. Even with my parents agreeing to back off, the thought of BamBam being truly angry with me was unbearable.
I’d spent nearly every afternoon of my life with her for as long as I could remember. The memory of her hands, strong and sure, picking me up when I’d stepped on a nettle when I was four. The taste of her cream-cheese brownies—she always made two pans, one for me and my sister, who liked nuts, and one for my brother, who didn’t. The way she’d walked into my room after I’d had a meltdown over not testing into trigonometry and asked if I could help her film a video about hemming choir uniforms for her church’s women’s club. That video had changed both of our lives, and I wasn’t sure I could bear it if my video with Ethan changed them again for the worse.
BamBam shifted the cross of her arms and yawned, as if I hadn’t confessed to betraying every ounce of her trust and our friendship. “I knew about most of that.”
“What?” I blinked at her. It felt like my brain and my body had been disconnected and neither was entirely sure what to do with this new piece of information.
“You are a terrible liar. But I’m glad you finally told me.” BamBam frowned at me, deep creases forming in her brow as she narrowed her eyes. “I do not like being lied to.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Honey, I may be old, but I’m not stupid. I lived through the seventies. There is nothing that you can do that I haven’t already done. In fact, I feel sorry for kids now.” BamBam cackled, and I was torn between feeling relief and wanting to know what she had gotten up to in the seventies. Shaking her head at a memory she was not going to share, she added, “I saw the way that boy was looking at you on the plane ride over to Vegas, and I said to myself,That boy thinks she’s cute. Then the way he was hanging around even after I embarrassed you both at the panel. Plus, people were mentioning you all over my comments—yes, I saw those. You ain’t slick. Out here deleting comments, thinking Grandma doesn’t know how to use the internet.”
“I—”
BamBam held up a finger at me, using the international sign forbe quiet. “Then I saw the way you were crying on the plane home, and I thought, I sure hope I don’t have to whoop that boy’s ass for making my baby cry.”
“Kinda did the crying part to myself…” I mumbled.
“You sure did.” BamBam raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms again, then leaned back on the couch to wait for myexplanation. “What made you think I would ever put a petty grudge above you?”
I sat up straighter, filled my lungs with air, then paused. In all my panic over the last week, it never really occurred to me to interrogate why I thought BamBam would turn her back on me. When I started speaking again, the words were slow and halting. “I guess I wasn’t sure where you’d land. I mean, Dad is your son. And I know the rules. I wasn’t supposed to date anyone, so I didn’t want to put you in that position. Plus, I wanted to be loyal. You despise Buzzy.”
BamBam’s face relaxed as she listened. “Part of the trick of being a grandma is that you are raising both an adult and a grandchild. With your dad, I can coach him, but I can no longer make decisions for him. And the things I wasn’t proud of as a parent, I get to do over with my grandbabies. I pushed your dad a little too hard, so with you and your siblings, I wanted to give you space to explore. Your parents were in charge of discipline, so you got to have fun and feel safe with me.”
“And I did feel safe—still do.” I corrected myself. “You gave me a creative outlet, but you never told Mom and Dad to back off. You’re not one to hold your tongue, so when all this stuff happened with Ethan, I was worried it would push you away. That you wouldn’t be on my team anymore.”
“Oh.” BamBam uncrossed her arms as her eyes searched my face. “It’s funny. I never thought of it as needing to pick a side. To me, being a grandma isn’t being a referee. I think of it as cheerleading. As long as you or your parents aren’t going to hurt you or themselves, I keep my focus on supporting the wholefamily, not moderating relationships. I figured you had a strong enough will that you’d tell your parents about your future when you were ready. Just like you’d tell me the truth about Ethan when you felt like you needed, too.”
“Technically, I did do that,” I said, my voice coming out in a shaky laugh.
“I know. Which means I was right. As I frequently am.” BamBam smiled and shook her head. “But it doesn’t feel like much of a win knowing how bad you felt. I’m sorry you thought you had to go it alone and hide things.”
“It’s okay,” I said. That was the most classic BamBam response, pointing out that she wasn’t wrong even as she admitted she could’ve acted differently.
