Read Online One Man Show by John J. Bonk - Free Book Online Page B

the family. I wondered if
guest
meant
date.
I could tell from the suspicious looks my aunts gave “Barry” that they were wondering the same thing.
    All anyone could talk about (besides “So, who is this Barry Ortega?”) was the big television star who was coming. Whenever
     the doorbell rang, everyone stared at the front door as if the President of the United States were about to walk in. It almost
     seemed that the party was for Jeremy Jason Wilder and not Granny Grubbs.
    “Is that TV boy here yet?” Granny kept asking me.
    “Any minute now.”
    Even she was excited about meeting a sitcom star face to face. I’d never seen Granny so dressed up in my life, and I don’t
     think it was for the sake of Great-Aunt Iris and her husband, Hoyt, from Sheboygan. Her white hair was braided and wound in
     a bun, like a snake coiled on top of her head. She had on her navy blue church dress - and lipstick! That was a first. Ah,
     the power of celebrity.
    “Maybe you should phone that TV boy’s house to see if he’s on his way,” Granny said. “I’m going to bed soon and I’d sure hate
     to miss him.”
    “Bed? But your party barely started!” I said. “There’s gonna be cake - and presents.”
    “I had that mole cluster on my neck removed last week. At my age that’s present enough.”
    “Granny!”
    “Well, I’m just saying.”
    I beelined it to Mom. She’d know what to do.
    “We’re going to have to do the cake right away,” she said, looking worried. “You know your gran - with that arthritis medicine
     she takes, she can conk out at any minute.”
    The doorbell rang. Nobody budged.
    “That door’s not gonna answer itself,” Granny said. “It’s the TV boy for sure.”
    I hurried to the front door and stood there with my hand on the doorknob. I couldn’t swallow. It felt as if one of Aunt Olive’s
     meatballs were lodged in my throat. I took a second to breathe, then opened the door.
    “Hi, Dustin Grubbs!”
    It was LMNOP.
    “Sorry to interrupt the festivities,” LMNOP said in her sloppy lisp, “but I wanted to stop by to wish your grandmother a happy
     birthday. And give her these.”
    She pried the lid off the plastic container she was holding. It was loaded with goopy brownies.
    “Is that him?” Granny asked. “Where did I put my glasses?”
    “No, Gran,” I said. “It’s just the kid from next door.”
    The whole room groaned and picked up their dropped conversations and plates.
    “He looks different in person,” Granny said, squinting out the door. “Kinda girly.”
    “This isn’t Jeremy,” I said. “This
is
a girl.”
    “I’m Ellen, remember? Happy birthday, Mrs. Grubbs,” LMNOP said, handing her the brownies. “My mom’s gonna need the container
     back. It’s part of a set.”
    “Well, thank you, sweetheart,” Granny said. She picked up the smallest brownie and inspected it closely. “These don’t have
     nuts in them, do they? I’ll croak.”
    “No, ma’am,” LMNOP said. “They’re nut free.” Granny popped the whole brownie into her mouth. “They’re chocolate free too.
     We used organic carob instead.”
    Granny made a face as if she’d just licked the bottom of a shoe. She spat the brownie into a napkin and handed it to me.
    “I don’t think that TV boy is coming,” she said, half yawning. “I’m going to bed.”
    “No, Gran, not yet!” I yelled.
    There was a knock at the door. I must’ve slammed it in LMNOP’s face without realizing it. She was a pain, but Ithought I should at least offer her a cracker or something, so I opened the door.
    “Sorry I’m late.”
    LMNOP was gone, and Jeremy was standing in her place.
He showed!
    My great-aunt’s stepdaughter by her second marriage screamed, “It’s him!” and dropped a glass.
    “That’s what I thought too,” Granny said, “but it’s only the little girl from next door. Don’t eat her brownies.”
    “No, Gran, this
is
Jeremy,” I said. “Come on in!”
    As soon as he stepped