Olive - although she didn't normally feel very uncomfortable talking about her mother or her death - was very glad for the change of conversation. While she didn't mind telling people after she knew them for a while, as an introduction, it was rather saddening.
"Um, my grandmother got it for me," Olive said with a grin. "She came and visited about a month ago, and we went shopping and she found this in one of the stores downtown. I'm not sure which one though..." For all Olive knew, all the really expensive boutiques downtown were the same: clothes she would never have. That is, if it wasn't for her grandmother, whom Olive usually referred to as Nana.
Nana and Grandfather Herbert were her mother's parents. They had loved her father the moment he stepped in the door to take their daughter on a date, and they'd been very happy when they became engaged and married. But they had been a strictly middle-class family, up until Herbert's death when Olive was about 10. Then Nana realizes that Herbert had kept a large savings account, with a very large sum of money, as a secret from his wife, to give to her when he died. (At the time, she hadn't been amused and shouted loudly, "What in seven hells, Herbert?!" when the banker came to their house and explained everything.) Being the smart woman she was, she kept her house and very meticulously watched over the account, although she did splurge now and again: usually on her granddaughter or herself. But she lived on the other side of the state, so Olive didn't get to see her much except during the holidays.
Olive was also very sure that Nana had purposefully hidden the price tag, so Oliver or her father wouldn't say it was too expensive.
"Oh, that would be lovely!" Olive said, grinning. "I normally don't do this much with my hair every day -"
"Have you tried using a curling iron?" Lizzy inquired. "They came out with a new model about a year ago: it's a lot safer than those with the wooden handle, and you can still plug it into the wall."
Olive shifted in her seat. "No, I don't have one. I-I don't have one of the wooden ones either; I just use pin curlers..."
"My mother uses those!" Tammy said with a grin; thankfully, her tone wasn't rude. She just seemed quite pleased to know what that was. Still, it made Olive blush a bit: teenage girls usually didn't like being compared to other girls' mothers, even if it was in a nice way.
|