‘Check this out,’ Alfred chuckled, folding the newspaper and tossing it down the breakfast table. It landed in front of his granddaughter, Beth, without hitting a single glass or breakfast dish.
‘Impressive,’ she said, nodding approvingly.
‘Decades of practice,’ he grinned, leaning back in his chair. ‘Let’s see you do that with an EyePad.’
‘Why would I throw a tablet across a table?’ she frowned, picking up the paper. ‘I’d just CloudDrop it to you.’
‘Ah,’ Alfred nodded, like he always did when she started talking nonsense. ‘Of course.’
Beth sighed and squinted at the ink-smudged pages, searching for what he was trying to show her.
‘Other side,’ her grandpa offered. She flipped it obligingly.
‘You, uh…’ he started, delicately. ‘You looked into glasses, there Bethany?’
‘It’s Beth,’ she said on rote, staring at the paper. ‘And no. Why?’
‘Well, for starters, that story you’re reading so intently is upside down.’
‘Dammit,’ she huffed, slamming it onto the table. ‘Do not tell Mum.’
‘Why not?’ he frowned. ‘She’ll just take you to that child’s optometrist local to Bentleigh. I hear it has good reviews.’
‘First things first,’ Beth frowned. ‘I’m not a child.’
‘My mistake. But where’s the harm?’ he pressed her. ‘If you’re struggling to read the Sunday edition, I can’t imagine you’re doing well in school.’
‘You’ll think it’s stupid,’ she mumbled.
‘Honey, when you get to my age you think everything is stupid,’ he chortled, getting up so he could shuffle over to the seat next to her. ‘It’s a lot like being a teenager in that respect.’
She actually cracked a smile as he sat down.
‘I don’t want to wear glasses,’ she sighed. ‘I’ll get teased at school.’
‘Maybe,’ her grandpa conceded. ‘But you want to know how to fix that?’
‘How?’
You go get this eye test, near Bentleigh. Then you give it one week.’
‘What happens after a week?’
‘Well,’ he laughed. ‘They’ll get bored, and find something else that’s stupid to make fun of.’
‘How do you know so much about high school?’
He leant over and tapped his nose.
‘Nursing homes.’