CHAPTER FIVE HUNDRED and SIXTY-ONE
Thursday morning — 10:24 a.m.
“No,” Heather said. “You are not coming with me.”
She pulled her Subaru into the Marlowe School parking lot and parked.
“Go home,” Heather said to her grandmother.
“But Hedone,” purred her grandmother, Aphrodite. “No one knows more about this topic than I do.”
Heather turned and pointed to her grandmother.
“No,” Heather said.
Turning forward, Heather turned off the car.
“Why?” Aphrodite asked.
“Why?” Furious, Heather turned to look at her. “Where should I start?”
Aphrodite pressed her hand to her heart and looked away. Heather scowled.
“Oh, you’re right,” Aphrodite said. “I shouldn’t help you give a little talk about the six types of love as defined by …”
She put her finger to the side of her lips.
“Who was that again?” Aphrodite asked.
Heather rolled her eyes.
“You can’t ‘help’ me,” Heather said. “Go home.”
“I want to try that tea!” Aphrodite said. “Persephone said that Hades brought her some lovely cookies and tea!”
Aphrodite looked deflated.
“How come I don’t get tea and cookies?” Aphrodite asked.
“Little bits of chocolate,” Aphrodite said. “Why does Persephone get something that I do not? Me! The one who worked out her little problem with her crazy mother.”
“By being crazier than Demeter,” Heather said under her breath.
“You know me so well, my dear,” Aphrodite said.
“I know you well enough to tell you to go home,” Heather said.
Aphrodite didn’t move. Heather let out a pained sigh.
“You won’t let me torture your mother anymore …” Aphrodite said in a mild reprimand.
Despite of her anger at her grandmother, Heather laughed. Aphrodite smiled.
“Fine,” Heather said. “But!”
“But?” Aphrodite asked.
“You cannot go in there looking like a Goddess,” Heather said.
“Why not?” Aphrodite asked.
“Because a lot of women spent a lot of money in attempts to look the way you look now,” Heather said. “You will look like a cheap knock off of yourself.”
Aphrodite’s visage shifted to a middle aged human woman. Heather was surprised at how much she looked like Honey’s mother Tiffanie — after Tiffanie’s recent remodel, that is. Heather shook her head.
“Oh fine,” Aphrodite said. “But you know that I cannot be human.”
“I do know that you do not have even one iota of human in you,” Heather said.
“That’s exactly right,” Aphrodite said with a sniff.
Heather groaned, and her grandmother laughed.
Aphrodite shifted to looking a little heavier, a little more life worn. She was still a shockingly beautiful woman. She just looked more like her genuine self and not some magical entity.
“You are beautiful,” Hedone said.
Aphrodite sniffed. The “women” got out of the car and went into the school. They checked into the office. Aphrodite was silent through the “vapid conversation with the imbecile at the front desk” and when the “ugly gnome” (hall monitor) walked them down the hallway. Heather didn’t need to hear these judgments from her grandmother. She had heard them enough times over the years that she could repeat her grandmother’s ridicules in her head.
Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…
This work, unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.