Buffy Andrews - The Moment Keeper

I drew a big circle for Grandma’s head and a smaller one for mine. I glanced over at Reid’s paper. He was drawing a lot of circles. Each one was connected to a stick body. The figures were different heights. I looked at Rachel’s paper. She had drawn three stick figures and a flat circle with four stick legs coming out of the bottom.

I pointed to the flat circle. “What’s that?”

Rachel looked up at me, her black licorice eyes swallowing her cornrow-framed face. “My dog.”

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“Peanut Butter.”

Reid laughed.

Rachel covered her drawing with her arms.

“I like that name,” I said.

Rachel pulled her paper toward me and shifted in her seat so her back was blocking Reid from seeing her picture.

“OK, children,” Miss Becky said. “Time to share. Anyone want to volunteer to go first?”

Reid’s hand shot up. He was always first to volunteer for anything.

“OK, Reid. Come to the front of the classroom so everyone can see your picture.”

Reid pushed out his chair and walked to the front and stood next to Miss Becky.

“This is my dad and this is my mom,” he said, pointing to the different stick figures on the big sheet of white paper. “And these are my sisters. Rebecca. Rachelle. Renee. And Randi. And that’s me.”

“So you have four sisters?” Miss Becky asked.

Reid shook his head so fast I thought his thick black glasses would fly off.

“And a cat but I forgot to drawn him. His name is Rudy.”

“Very good,” Miss Becky said.

“And guess what?” Reid asked. He didn’t wait for Miss Becky to reply. “Our names all start with R.”

“That’s right,” Miss Becky said. “They do.”

Reid walked back to his seat, strutting like one of those Mummers Grandma always likes to watch on TV on Thanksgiving Day.

“Who would like to go next?”

I sat and listened as student after student talked about their families. I didn’t want to share my drawing. But eventually I was the only one left who hadn’t gone.

“Sarah,” Miss Becky said. “Your turn.”

I picked up my drawing and went to the front of the class. “This is me and my grandma.”

Reid raised his hand.

“Yes, Reid,” Miss Becky said.

“Where’s your mom and dad?”

My body stiffened, like the time Grandma caught me sneaking chocolate-chip cookies after she said I couldn’t have any more because we were soon going to eat dinner.

I swallowed hard. “I don’t have any.”

Reid tilted his head and even with his thick glasses on I could tell he was scrunching his beady little eyes. “Why not?”

“You know, Reid,” Miss Becky interrupted. “Just like there are different kinds of ice cream, there are many different kinds of families. Some families have moms and dads and sisters and brothers. Others have just a mom or just a dad or a grandma or a grandpa. What’s important to remember is that they are all families no matter how they are made up.”

Reid scratched his head.

Rachel raised her hand.

“Yes, Rachel,” Miss Becky said.

Rachel smiled. “I like Sarah’s picture.”

From that day on, Rach and I were inseparable.

“And God bless Mommy and Daddy,” says Olivia, her fingers, stained with magic marker, interlocked and her eyes pinched shut. “And Emma and Jack. And the nice lady at the deli who gave me a slice of cheese. And the man who came to the house and gave Mommy flowers from Daddy. And my teacher, Mrs. Plato. And those people Mommy and I saw waiting for food outside that building on the way to school today. Oh, and God bless Pepper. That’s our neighbor’s cat. He has three legs. Amen.”

“That was a very nice prayer,” Elizabeth says, brushing Olivia’s ringlets off her face.

Tom agrees. “I know who Emma is. Who’s Jack?”

“He’s new at school. I played with him today. He said he doesn’t have a mommy or a daddy. He has a grandma.”

Tom looked at Elizabeth. “Well, princess. I’m glad you played with Jack. I’m sure that made him feel good.”

“Yeah. He cried. A lot. And then when we started to play, he stopped. For a little. But then when his grandma came to pick him up, he cried again.”

“I see,” Tom says.

“Emma asked him why he cries so much and that made him cry more. Why does he?”

“Cry so much?” Elizabeth asks.

Olivia nods.

“Sometimes people are sad,” Elizabeth says. “And they just need time to be happy again.”

“Will he be happy again?” Olivia asks.

“I’m sure he will,” Tom says. “But you can keep praying for that to happen.”

Tom pulls the pink blanket up to Olivia’s chin and kisses her on the forehead. Elizabeth tucks Olivia’s teddy beside her and kisses her on each cheek.

“Sweet dreams, Princess,” Elizabeth says. “Love you bunches and bunches.”

Every night, Grandma and I had the same routine. Even when I got older, parts of it remained. Like the part where she hugged me and kissed me on the cheek and told me how much she loved me and how proud she was of me before she went to bed. No one has ever loved me as much as Grandma. I thought that Bryan did. I thought he was my Prince Charming, coming to take me away. But I was wrong. So wrong. But that’s a moment for another day.

The best part of our nightly routine was Grandma reading me a book. Of course, we said prayers, too. But the book always came first

“Got the book you want to read?” Grandma asked me, then five.

I grabbed a book from the bookshelf Grandma had found at a yard sale. She sanded and painted it and made it look like new. I loved my pink bookshelf.

“Didn’t we just read that book last night and the night before and the night before that?” Grandma asked.

I nodded and my pigtails laced with purple ribbons bounced.

“Well, OK then. Hop on up.”

I snuggled next to Grandma on the patched sofa. She slipped one arm around me and started to read, her index finger sliding under the words as she went.

I loved the story of Cinderella. How she went to the ball and met the prince and had mice for friends. Oh, and a fairy godmother who made all of her dreams come true. In my mind, the fairy godmother looked like Grandma, whose basic wardrobe was tan khakis and some sort of button-down blouse she made, usually a floral print.

Grandma tucked me in bed and placed a glass of water, half full, on my nightstand. I always liked to have a drink nearby so if I woke up and was thirsty, it would be right there.

I folded my hands and Grandma folded hers and we prayed together.

“Wait,” I said when we got to the “Amen” part.

“And God bless Rachel and Grandma. Oh, and can you make Matt happy and love me like he loved my mom?”

I heard Grandma gasp, and I opened my eyes to see her wiping her blotchy face on her pajama sleeve.

I prayed and prayed my whole life for Matt to be happy, but he never was. I wanted him to be happy more than I wanted him to love me. I gave up on him loving me when he stopped coming around after Grandma kicked him out of the house. I wasn’t mad that Grandma kicked him out. He kept wrecking things and made Grandma cry all of the time. It wasn’t long after Grandma kicked him out that we moved into a small apartment where the landlord mowed the yard and did other outside work. My bedroom wasn’t as big as it was in the house, but it was right next to Grandma’s instead of down the hall and I liked that.

Olivia sets her pink and purple princess table with her ceramic floral china set. There’s a setting for her and her best friend, Emma, and one for Olivia’s doll, Sadie, and one for Emma’s doll, Nellie.

“Is it time yet?” Olivia calls to her mother.