I'm just getting home from school. I have my red plaid book bag. One of its buckles is undone and my messy papers peek out. Mommy is wiping her hands on her apron and smiling. She says did I notice what was on the table? I look over, there are two red velvet heart-shaped boxes. One's for me and one's for my sister. They are from Grandpa who makes candy and sells it in his cafe. It's weird for him to give me such a nice present. I don't even remember meeting him; maybe once. He had a cigar and needed a shave. He didn't talk to me but "played poker" with my sister. She was 6 or 7. She was supposed to have played golf with him too and gotten a hole-in-one. I can't figure out what this means but it makes all the adults happy.
When Grandpa died we had to hang around this hotel with big-patterned, reddish carpet and wait a lot. My cousins were there. We watched Gilligan's Island in the room and looked at what brands all the grown ups smoked by reading the butts in the ash tray. Some had lipstick on them.
My Mom made me go look at him in the coffin. She said "Maybe you could say a little prayer for him." We never pray in my house. I don't even know how. Something about the whole visit has made my Mom nervous.