Grandma: Part III

This is the third part in a series, so if you have not already done so, you might want to read Part I and Part II before continuing.

The final straw came when Zach walked into the kitchen and saw his grandmother spraying his mother’s baking pans with canola oil.

“Get that crap out of my kitchen.”

“I’m making –”

“I don’t care what you think you’re making. It’s poison, and I don’t want it on my bakeware.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been cooking with canola oil for more than forty years. It’s much better for you than all that butter you’ve been going through. By the way, I replaced all your butter with margarine. It’s much healthier.”

“You what?”

“Don’t raise your voice at me, it’s for your own good.”

“It’s poison!”

“Nonsense. It’s –”

“Get out of my kitchen!” He roared.

“I know what I’m doing!”

Zach slammed a hand on the counter. She jumped, but otherwise didn’t move. “I said, get out of my mother’s kitchen!”

She slapped him.

It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but it was hard enough to shock him. His mother had never hit him, and for that matter, neither had his grandmother. What do you do when an old woman hits you? You can’t hit her back.

Zach stomped out of the kitchen to try and regain his composure. He ended up squatting in the living room, head between his hands, elbows resting on his knees, screaming until he ran out of breath. When he looked up, he found he was facing the couch and he got an idea. He grabbed a pillow, stomped back to the kitchen, where his grandmother was still spraying canola oil. He grabbed the can out of her hand and put it in the trash.

“Hey! That’s –” The pillow slapping her across the face finally shut her up. It also sent her spinning to the ground. Zach hadn’t considered that part. The pillow might not leave a bruise for her to show anyone, but the fall might.

Then again, those would be easily explained, wouldn’t they? Old people fell all the time.

“You hit me!” She held a hand to her cheek where the pillow had hit her.

“I hit you with a pillow. Don’t be a baby about it. And as juvenile as it is to say it, you did hit me first, so if you think you can guilt me into making me feel bad about this. Think again.”

“Are you proud of yourself? Hitting an old woman to the ground?”

“Oh, now you’re playing the old woman card? That didn’t seem to be what you were doing when you hit me.”

She looked down at the ground and her lower lip started to tremble.

“Yeah, the water works aren’t going to be very effective either. I tried telling you, again and again, how things work in my house. You ignored me, again and again. If this is the only way to get through to you that this isn’t your house, then so be it. You brought this on yourself.”

To be continued…