Ristretto Forever (by Jackie Danicki)'What is odd', she says, 'is that he has never asked me about other men. Did I have other lovers? Were they better than him? He has never asked, not in 63 years.'
'Hmm.' I am staring very hard at my geography book. My cheeks are tropic.
'I don't know if he is being gentlemanly or just doesn't care.'
'I would say he's just being Ba Ba.'
Later, I tell my mother what grandmère said.
'I don't think he could handle her answer.' Case closed, says her tone. She is drawing the curtains, back to me. I wait for her to turn around.
'Why? Was grandmère a dirty whore?'
Maman does not blink, let alone laugh. My own lips are straining not to bare teeth (unbrushed).
I would love Maman if she would just laugh.
'Go to bed.'
I hunch my shoulders and pout, but there is a spring in my step and my smile spreads, toothless, as I breeze into my bedroom. Even old bags have their histories. It won't always be pudding bowl hair, geography exams and Kleenex down the bra, not even for me.
I brush my teeth. I floss.
Next morning...
'Grandmère, do you think Ba Ba has a good reason for not wanting to know about you and other men?'
'Qu'est-ce que tu as dit?'
'Do you think...'
'I think you should finish your coffee and shut up. Don't you have a geography exam to study for?'
At least they let me drink coffee.
[The short short story comp is announced and explained here.]
