I informed Grandmere that I will be fifteen in four months, and also that Juliet was fourteen when she married Romeo.
To which Grandmere replied, 'And that relationship turned out very nicely, didn't it!'
Grandmere clearly has never been in love. Furthermore, she has no appreciation whatsoever of fine literature.
'And in any case,' Grandmere added, 'if you hope to keep that boy, you are going about it all wrong.'
I thought it was very unsupportive of Grandmere to be suggesting that I, after only having had a boyfriend for
twenty-four days, during which time I had seen him exactly once, was already in danger of losing him, and said so.
'Well, I'm sorry, Amelia,' Grandmere said. 'But I can't say you know what you're about if it's true you actually want
to keep this young man. You call him at all hours of the night—'
'Actually,' I said, 'where he is, it is a perfectly civilized time for me to call, right after he and his grandparents and
sister get back from their Early Bird special dinner.'
But Grandmere wasn't listening,
'You do not give him any reason to doubt your affections,' she went on.
'Of course not,' I said, horrified. 'Why would I do that? I love him!'
'But you mustn't let him know that!' Grandmere looked ready to throw her mid-morning Sidecar at me. Are you
completely dense? Never let a man be sure of your affections for him! You did a very good job at first, with the
business of forgetting his birthday. But now you are ruining everything by calling all the time. If that boy realizes
how you really feel, he will stop trying to please you.'
'But Grandmere.' I was way confused. 'You married Grandpa. Surely he figured out you loved him if you went ahead
and married him.'
'Grandpere, Mia, please, not this vulgar Grandpaw you Americans insist upon.' Grandmere sniffed and looked insulted. 'Besides which, your grandfather most certainly did not "figure out" my feelings for him. I made quite certain he thought
I was only marrying him for his money and title. And I don't think I need to point out to you that we had forty blissful years together. And without separate bedrooms,' she added, with some malice, 'unlike some royal couples I could mention.'
'Wait a minute.' I stared at her. 'For forty years you slept in the same bed as Grandpere, but you never once told him that
you loved him?'
Grandmere drained what was left of her Sidecar and laid an affectionate hand on top of her miniature poodle Rommel's
head. Since returning to Genovia, most of Rommel's fur has started to grow back. According to the royal Genovian vet,
the allergy that caused it all to fall out was to New York City in general. White fuzz was starting to come out all over him,
like down on a baby chicken. But it didn't make him look any less repulsive.
'That,' Grandmere said, 'is precisely what I am telling you. I kept your grandfather on his toes, and he loved every minute
of it. If you want to keep this Michael fellow, I suggest you do the same thing. Stop this business of calling him every night.
Stop this business of not looking at any other boys. And stop this obsessing over what you are going to get him for his
birthday. He should be the one obsessing over what he is going to buy to keep you interested, not the other way around.'
'Me? But my birthday isn't until May!' I didn't want to tell her that I had already figured out what I was getting for Michael.
I didn't want to tell her because I had sort of snitched it out of the back of the Palais de Genovia museum.
Well, nobody else was using it, so I don't see why I can't. I'm the Princess of Genovia, after all. I own everything in that museum anyway. Or at least the royal family does.
'Who says a man should give a woman gifts only on her birthday?' Grandmere was looking at me like she pretty much despaired of me as a Homo sapiens. She held up her wrist. Dripping from it was a bracelet Grandmere wears a lot, one
with diamonds big as European one cent pieces "hanging off it. 'I got this from your grandfather on March 5, 1967. Why? March fifth is not my birthday, nor is it any kind of holiday. Your grandfather gave it to me on that day merely because he thought that the bracelet, like myself, was exquisite.' She lowered her hand back down to Rommel's head. 'That, Amelia,
is how a man ought to treat the woman he loves.'
All I could think was poor Grandpa. He couldn't have had any idea what he was getting himself into when it came to Grandmere, who'd been a total babe back when she was young, before she'd gotten her eyeliner tattooed and plucked
out all her eyebrows. I'm sure Gramps just took one look at her across that dance floor where they met back when he
was just the dashing heir to the throne and she was a pert young debutante, and froze, like a deer caught in headlights,
never suspecting what lay ahead . . .
Years of subtle mind games and Sidecar shaking.
'I don't think I can be like that, Grandmere,' I said. 'I mean, I don't want Michael to give me diamonds. I just want him
to ask me to the prom.'
'Well, he won't do it,' Grandmere said, 'if he doesn't know there's a possibility you're entertaining offers from other boys.'
'Grandmere!' I was shocked. 'I would never to go to the prom with anybody but Michael!' Not like there was a big chance
of anybody else asking me, either, but I felt that was beside the point.
'But you must never let him know that, Amelia,' Grandmere said, severely. 'You must keep him always in doubt of your feelings, always on his toes. Men enjoy the hunt, you see, and once their quarry has been taken, they tend to lose all
interest. Here. This is for you to read. I believe it will adequately illustrate my point.'
And then from her Gucci bag, Grandmere drew out a book, which she handed to me. I looked down at it incredulously.
'Jane Eyre?' I couldn't believe it. 'Grandmere, no offence, but I saw the movie and it was way boring.'
'Movie?' Grandmere said, with a sniff. 'Read that book, Amelia, and see if it doesn't teach you a thing or two about
how men and women relate to one another.'
'Grandmere,' I said, not sure how to break it to her that she was way behind the times. 'I think people who want to know
how men and women relate to one another are reading Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus these days.'
'Read it!' Grandmere yelled, so loudly that she scared Rommel clear off her lap. He slunk off to cower behind a potted geranium.
I swear I don't know what I did to deserve a grandmother like mine. Lilly's grandma totally worships her boyfriend, Boris Pelkowski. She is always sending him Tupperware tubs of kreplach and stuff. I don't know why I have to get a grandma
who is already trying to get me to break up with a guy I've only been going out with for twenty-four days.
Seven days, twenty-three hours and forty-five minutes until I see him again.