I finish the loathsome process of reapplying my make-up in one of the ferry bathrooms. It’s the most time-consuming part of my life. Make-up. I hate it. But I hate something else more. The skin underneath it. The blemished, uneven skin it faithfully redeems. A sudden announcement through the intercom startles me. It’s 5 mins before we arrive in Vancouver Island. Passengers find your seats.
Jay makes his way speedily away from the ferry we just disembarked from with his little red Fiat zipping past cars. He’s got a determined tight-lipped look that I know is his way of masking his concern about how late we are. I slide my hand onto his shoulder and find my way to the nape of his neck where I run my fingers gently across this skin. I take a look at him again and chuckle a little. I can’t help but smile every time I see him big as he is in this tiny car.
“What is it?” he asks eyes still fixed on the road.
“You being the owner of his car. Pure comedy.” I tilt my head anticipating the response that’s bound to come.
“Haha.” comes his sarcastic reply followed by his signature eye roll that he holds way too long and combines with the most hilarious side-to-side head movement. I’m in love with a weirdo.
I squeezed his neck a bit in response and took a side-long look at the rearview mirror. Not too bad. The foundation was holding up despite the dampness in the air. Might not need to retouch before meeting Gran.
Ray is introducing me to his Gran for the first time. She is more a mom to him than anything, having raised him since age 6 when his dad dumped him at her house and left without a word. To say he loved this woman was an understatement. She was his world.
The houses got further and further apart and the denseness of the tall trees hugged both sides of the road in a gentle beauty that was hard to miss. Ray slowed down now as the road narrowed and let the windows slide down. Usually, this habit of his annoyed me but today it felt pretty perfect. The smell of the woody forest coupled with a hint of the sea breeze was such a change from Toronto’s heavy city fumes. Both my hands press on the side of the door’s rolled-down window as I inhale deeply, eyes closing. A light drizzle starts, droplets hitting my nose softly.
I jolted backwards remembering myself. My make-up. Damn.
I pressed the back of my hand against the moisture and looked nervously into the rearview mirror again. Nothing major. My new concealer was the reason for this. Thank God.
Jay stops on the side of a tiny street, ocean straight ahead of us as we both hop out. Me pulling the hood of my raincoat tightly over my forehead. Jay not even bothering to put his raincoat on at all. He points up towards the edge of the forest where I see a homely blue house tucked a little into some trees. That’s Gran’s house then. We make our way via a precarious wooden staircase pretty quickly up to the entrance of the house. Once at the door he reaches out to knock before spotting the white note attached to the door handle. “Meet at our spot”, it reads.
“She’s at the beach,” he says before reaching for my hand and racing down the uneven wooden stairs.
Gran’s sitting on a large weathered piece of driftwood facing the ocean. She’s in a hidden cove not far from the house. She’s got no raincoat on either to shield her rather tiny body. Little tufts of her short salt and pepper hair blow in the wind despite the light drizzle. She’s sitting, hands stretched behind her to brace herself as her chin is tilted slightly upwards. When we get closer I see that her eyes are closed too.
Ray lowers himself into the makeshift beach bench, beside her, pulling me down with him, fingers still laced in mine.
“Hey Gran,” he breathes warmth full in his voice.
“Why hi there my boy and my boy’s lovely lady,” comes her soft response, eyes still closed.
“Hi, Gran. It’s lovely to finally meet you. Your home looks beautiful. You’ve also got a beautiful spot out here. So serene. I’m loving the ocean air and the weather,” I ramble. I’m nervous. Why couldn’t I just say hi? I bite my lower lip.
“Cannot be liking it that much with that raincoat deary.” she smiles opening her eyes and shooting me a look of tenderness from the warmest shade of brown eyes. They contrast so starkly with her pale skin.
“Now Gran…,” Ray interjects squeezing my hand in comfort.
“It’s my make-up. It’s kind of important to me. I can’t take it off cause this weather will ruin it,”
I reply quickly hoping to not make this more of a big deal than it is.
“If there is anything more important than fully enjoying the things you find beautiful then I think you will come to realize you are missing out on a large chunk of living hunny. Trust me when I say － that’s no way to live.”
