Hey hun,
Have you ever wondered where the expression “egg on my face” comes from? I guess it probably refers to getting decked by a slimy raw egg after a really embarrassing performance, but I’ve always pictured it more as an omelet; something you put in time into, assuming it will be all great and delicious that stands up and slaps you right in the kisser.
So, in case you hadn’t guessed, I certainly have egg on my face today. After not hearing from her for a while, I finally got a phone call from Eve – you remember, she’s the one who had a relationship with a Nicolas Cage scammer. I wasn’t worried about the radio silence because she’s been visiting her sister, and we left things on a bit of a rough note.
But honestly, since some time has passed I was expecting maybe not a friendly chat, but not whatever it was that I got. I could tell immediately Eve was still very upset from her shaky voice, and also because she said, “Well I’ve had a good long think about everything and I’m still pissed as hell at you.”
I asked why, because even though I knew what about, I couldn’t quite see what I did that had her so bunched up. Shouldn’t she be mad at the person who scammed her instead of me? Apparently, we had walked away with very different impressions of how things ended, kinda like the clown and the county fair and the person who dunked him.
“It just really sucks,” she said, “because I was starting to feel as though you might be a friend and instead you turned around and stabbed me in the back! You lifted my rock for everyone to point and gawk, like I was nothing more than a gross old slug.”
What the heck and a half? I thought I had been a good friend. I had smelled something rotten with the whole “Nicolas Cage” situation, gotten the proof, and gave it to her on a friggin’ plate. I had stopped that loser from taking advantage of her. And I said as much over the phone to her.
She went silent. Can you believe that for a foolish moment I thought I had proved something to her? Yeah, yeah, yeah, I can hear you saying how wrong I was. The last thing I was expecting was that omelet coming in for the big swing, which landed just as she said:
“But I never asked you to do that. I never asked you to go behind my back like some kind of…some kind of freak! I told you stuff I hadn’t told anyone else and then you yanked the rug out from under me. And now you want me to thank you for it?”
Slllaaaap! I was looking out the window at a couple of squirrels chasing each other around a tree. Sure, I had seen the scam for what it was. But had I been more concerned with proving myself right, and more all-knowing, than anything else? It was true I didn’t even consider asking her permission before I acted. Honestly, I assumed she wouldn’t have listened to me. Would things have worked out just as well if I had been a more present friend?
“Listen,” I said, “I hear what you’re saying. I see how I acted a little out of turn. I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I just wasn’t thinking. I got excited about the mystery and jumped in blind. If anything’s certain, though, I don’t think you’re a gross old slug. In fact I think you’re a lovely slug. The best one around by far.”
Eve chuckled, despite herself. “Well, I appreciate that.”
There was a bit of an awkward pause that I filled by asking her how her stay at her sister’s place was going.
“Oh my god,” she said, “I’m about to lose my goddamn mind. It was really nice having a place to go to at first, but if I have to eat casserole for one more meal I think I might throw myself off the balcony. And she eats it with her mouth wide open because of her dentures, which are thanks in part to all those stinkin’ cigarettes. It makes the whole place filthy. Not to be gross, but whenever I blow my nose it’s just black snot.”
“Oh, god,” I said, “well the invitation to come stay with me still stands. I know the idea of my company might not be enough, but if it sweetens the deal, you’d have your own room and can go in there and close the door whenever you like. No smoking zone.”
“Deal,” she said quickly, “send me the address and I’ll get myself there.”
And so there you have it, that’s the latest from Gram’s sad farm. No, I’m kidding. One of the perks of living this long is that you get to do whatever you want, granted your crumbling bones allow it. Apparently for me that includes becoming some kind of old granny detective who occasionally needs a reminder to keep it in check.
But if I’m honest, I feel excited to have a houseguest coming. Back in Maine, I truly thought that I was doing Eve a favor as a friend. Maybe this is my opportunity to prove myself. Who knows, we might even have a Golden Girls situation on our hands!
Anyway, there’s no time to lose. I have to go to the grocery to stock up on the goods, with a special stop at the liquor store. Hey! I might even move Harold’s box out of the guest room temporarily. Well…we’ll see.
Love,
Grams