One afternoon, I had just finished getting books from my locker and was walking away when Brittany rounded the hallway corner with her usual group. Grandpa Walter was a few feet away, mopping near the water fountain, minding his own business.
“Oh, look,” Brittany announced, after spotting me across the hallway, loud enough for everyone to hear, “here comes the school’s number one cleaning rag!”
People laughed, but Brittany laughed the hardest.
My grandpa didn’t look up. He just kept mopping in those slow, careful circles.
“Here comes the school’s number one cleaning rag!”
I kept my head down too, the way I always did. But inside, I was burning.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Grandpa Walter asked me later when I passed him on my way out.
“I’m fine, Grandpa.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I wasn’t alright or sure. I was tired. Tired of flinching every time someone said his name like a punchline, tired of pretending I didn’t see him in the hallways.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
***
That night, I sat on the edge of my bed and made a promise to myself. Graduation Day was coming. I’d walk into that auditorium with my grandpa, get my diploma, and we’d leave that school with our heads held high for the first time in four years.
Then I went and invited Grandpa to attend. Of course, he said, “Yes.”
I had no idea the day would hand me more than my dignity.
I’d walk into that auditorium.
***
Graduation morning came slowly. I helped Grandpa Walter into his old gray suit, the only nice thing he owned, and smoothed the lapel for him.
“You look like a movie star, Grandpa,” I told him.
He chuckled and tugged at the cuffs, sucking in his slightly protruding belly.
“I look like an old man in a borrowed suit, Emily. But I’ll take it!”
I laughed, straightened his tie, and tried not to think about the auditorium waiting for us. My grandpa had ironed that suit at five in the morning. I’d heard him humming through the wall.
“You look like a movie star.”
***
