Yours Soulfully...

14.

Amana's grandparents were impeccably pompous people. They wanted perfection in everything. No, scratch that. They wanted to complain about the imperfections in everything. For them, there is no such thing that is always perfect and that it gives them all the rights in the world to bicker about it.

This was one of the main reasons why Amana hated them. Hate is quite a strong word, as many may say, but it describes her feelings more perfect than any alternative. She just hated them. No more, no less.

So it is within reason why she loathed being in charge of their anniversary celebration; especially when she has some confessions to fess up this visit. But now she has another responsibility now: a gravely impending responsibility.

She looked herself in the car rearview mirror one last time, her reflection showing a perfectly parted hair in the front, tied up in a classic tight bun that covered all her pink tips and showed just the platinum blonde roots. The little black bow tied up on her hair had a small stone that twinkled in unison with the small diamond stud on her nose that her mother had her buy as soon as she came home. The face was complete with layers of toner, a traditional pink lipstick and a light coat of mascara. Amana felt absolutely unlike herself. But as she looked down at her hands which held an open file, the picture Aaron showed her caught her eyes. For him. She took a deep breath and got out of her car.

Her grandmother Eleanor Lincoln attended the door and to say she was stumped was an understatement.

"Amana! What a lovely surprise! Get in, darling," Eleanor said in a raised tone. Amana smiles as sweet as she could fake and politely wished her as she entered inside.

"Good afternoon, Gran. I thought Mother informed you about me coming over to discuss the plans of the function. So sorry if I disturbed you."

Eleanor clucked her tongue. "No such thing, Amana. Come into the parlour. Your Grandpa and I were just listening to some good old tunes. You look beautiful, by the way. Love the little sparkle to your nose."

Amana graciously beamed, faking it of course. "I swear, everything becomes better with diamonds."

Eleanor laughed. "You said it right." The pleasantry was too unpleasant for Amana to handle, but Aaron's state back at home renewed her tolerance level.

The 73 year old Theodore Lincoln turned to the sound of the two women entering the parlor. And his jaw legit dropped a little.

"Well well well, who's this lovely angel?"

Save me, Amana thought because she couldn't fake blush for the heaven of her. She just fake giggled and said, "Grandpa! It's your granddaughter Amana."

He shook his head. "You do not look like an Amana right now, darling. Dear Eleanor, what name was it that we baptised her with in our church? Chris something?"

Eleanor sighed. "Your memory isn't getting any better, Theodore. It was Chrystal. Chrystal Mary Lincoln is your church name. And oh Mighty, you do look like a meek Chrystal now!"

Theodore retorted, "My memory might be going rotten, but I still got two good eyes."

The chit chat went on pleasantly for a while with Amana's snarky replies kept to herself and Eleanor and Theodore's casual fake attitude flowing naturally out of them that even their own conscience would get conflicted as to which was the real version.

"How's Aaron? Any better now?" Theodore asked.

Amana cleared her throat. "Yeah, he just got back home yesterday night. He just has a few minor burns and they're fading very fast. He's just a little traumatized though."