Plan B

Grandma had an affair. It was always assumed and never spoken of, but now here at his funeral, instead of typical tears and sharing stories of the "good times" the women are gathered in the corner of the VFW with plastic punch cups and pinned back curls, whispering ...Helen Marie.... It just couldn’t be.... Helen Marie. The men stay out back by the keg, arms folded stern brows. I knew before my mother. When I was five grandma said she needed to tell me a secret, because she has been waiting for the right ears to tell. Grandma is magic. Her hair in perfect set curls, red lipstick at 6 am. Won’t leave the house without her pearls and a splash of channel. She loves murder mysteries, feeding the birds in the morning, and honey on her toast. She gives caramels to the dog, plays cards with the paperboy, tends her raspberry bushes. I would go into rooms I shouldn’t, snoop through drawers and boxes. Grandma said I was a curious kitten. Today she caught me in her vanity. On the side she had a picture of man with a mustache. I had on as much jewelry as I could fit on my fingers and around my neck. Red lipstick smeared on the side of my lips. Grandma came in... “oh kitten. Here I know what you need.” She pulls out her channel No. 5 and gently turns my wrists over to put on just a drop. She shows me how to rub it in behind my ears. I ask her about the man and she grins and taps on the bed for me to sit. “I hear he was a B movie star” “Well I am sure it was when she took that trip to Germany when Bill was stationed in Wales.” “ Like I said a German, B movie star, why else would she have learned the language” “Well its obvious Helen Marie is German, I don’t know how Bill could stand it” I am standing with Grandma in the kitchen. I am 14 now. I open up the bottle of wine and our us both a glass. She kisses my head. We just stand there and listen to the women talk. I grab her hand. I love the red stain left as she pulls the glass from her lips. My mother comes in the room and cries.I have only seen this once before when she stubbed her toe on the coffee table while vacuuming around my sister and I watching tv. Grandma tells me to go collect the bulletins in the pews. I walk toward the hall and hide behind the door peeking in. On the car ride home my dad had fallen asleep on the passenger’s side and my sister was listening to her book on tape. Mom hasn’t said a word, just keeps the radio real low and a cigarette lit. “I guess you make a lot more sense now” she says to me.