vacation?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She stated, feeling guilty that she was only just now calling her grandmother.
“Did you and your cousin have fun? You didn’t do anything crazy like getting drunk did you?”
Vanessa’s lips twisted in amusement. “No ma’am. We just wanted to celebrate and we had a good time.”
“That’s good baby.” Her grandmother’s voice became hesitant. “I suppose that you will be wanting to collect your trust money.”
She didn’t want her grandmother to think that was the only reason she was calling. “Yes, I will soon-“
Bertha Mae sighed. “Then I think you and I better have a talk.”
Here we go. ”Sure grandma. I can come over later today.”
“Okay. Bye.” And the phone went dead, surprising her. Grandma had just hung up the phone. Now that didn’t make sense, she hadn’t even told her anything that should make her mad … yet.
Since she didn’t have the car, she decided to splurge and take a cab, using some of the money that Scotty had left for her in the bedroom drawer when he’d gone to New York.
She was sure that her grandmother would think that she was being wasteful when she saw her pull up in a cab, Vanessa thought as she sat in the back seat. But it would be stupid to take a bus when she could use this opportunity to pack up some of her things to take back to the apartment.
Vanessa walked up to the house that she had lived in with her grandmother, wondering how much this would hurt their relationship. Her grandmother meant the world to her but she would not live by anyone’s conditions but her own. If her grandmother didn’t want to accept her relationship then that was her decision, but one thing she could no longer do is control the trust fund.
Vanessa knocked on the door at the same time that she used her key to enter the house. “Hi, grandma. It’s me.”
“In here,” the older woman called from the kitchen.
Vanessa was surprised that she didn’t smell the aroma of something cooking. They had made plans to meet hours ago and her grandmother would have had plenty of time to whip up something to eat. Anytime Vanessa had returned home to visit, her grandmother would have something prepared for her to eat because she thought ‘those people didn’t know how to cook. Sometimes it was greens and a meatloaf with all the fixings, or pinto beans and cornbread. And when there wasn’t much time, grandma would at least throw together salmon croquettes and rice.
Vanessa walked into the kitchen a little disappointed, not that she necessarily wanted something to eat but because it was something that her grandmother always did.
Bertha Mae White watched her granddaughter, her face expressionless without even a smile of greeting. Vanessa tried to think back to what she’d done wrong—what her grandmother could have discovered that she’d done in just one week.
“Sit down Vanessa.”
“Is everything alright?” She asked while taking her seat. Oh Jesus … grandma was going to tell her that she had cancer or something. Vanessa felt as if someone had just socked her in the stomach and she looked at her grandmother with open fear.
“No. Everything is not alright.”
“Are you okay?” She asked, her voice rising high in fear.
“Vanessa, you are not going to like what I am about to tell you. But you will not be collecting your trust until you’re twenty-one.”
Vanessa was speechless. She couldn’t even respond because there were so many things that she wanted to say at once.
Her grandmother’s eyes became sympathetic. “I didn’t make this decision lightly-”
Vanessa shook her head. “What decision? You can’t stop me from collecting my money.”
“Vanessa, I want you to take a minute to listen to everything I’m going to tell you.” Vanessa fought back a hysterical response to scream and rant against any idea that she wouldn’t be collecting what her mother had meant for her to have. But she needed to hear exactly what her
Learning to Kill: Stories