The Other Half of My Heart by Sundee T. Frazier

worked down the page and onto the next.
    With their grandmother absorbed in her reading, Minni could observe the woman undetected. Her hair was immaculately pulled back from her chocolate-brown face and gathered into a tight bun at the back. She kept it so straight and slick that if not for its dark color, she might have appeared bald from a distance. She had a perfectly oval face—her hairstyle emphasized the shape—and her skin was amazingly wrinkle-free for a sixty-nine-year-old, although this, too, could have been at least partly the result of her tightly pulled-back hair. Maybe that was why she wore it like that.
    Still, she definitely looked older than she had two summers ago. Her cheeks sagged more, pulling the corners of her mouth down even when her lips curled into an occasional smile. The last time they’d seen her, she had come to Port Townsend. It had ended very badly; Minni and Keira never really understood why. Grandmother Johnson had said something to set Mama off, but Minni couldn’t remember what now.
    Minni continued her inventory of Grandmother Johnson’s face. It was at least one-third forehead. Her eyes were set evenly on either side of her triangular nose under straight eyebrows that were filled in with a makeup pencil. Her earlobes sagged from years of wearing heavy earrings. All her jewelry was gold—a gold watch, a gold class ring on her right ring finger, a gold necklace with a rectangular gold locket. She wore her glasses for reading only—never in pictures. Mama said she was too vain for that. Instead she posed with them in her hand because it made her look smart. She called herself “full-figured.”
Like Queen Latifah
, Minni thought,
except without any of the glamour or beauty
.
    Grandmother Johnson finished reading. She nodded at Minni. “You have done an excellent job. I am especially pleased with your A-plus average.”
    Minni glanced at Keira, whose eyes roamed over the ceiling.
    “There’s just one thing. You will write in your
full
first name.” Grandmother Johnson went to the desk behind Keira and pulled out a bottle of Wite-Out. She set it, along with the application and a pen, on the table in front of Minni.
    She returned to her seat and picked up Keira’s application.
“Purple
ink?” She tsked, then ran her finger down the page. She stopped about halfway. “You forgot to circle your grade average.”
    Uh-oh
. Hadn’t Mama told her?
    “No, I didn’t.”
    Grandmother Johnson cocked her head. “Then why has it been left blank?”
    “Because none of the options apply.” Keira looked directly at Grandmother Johnson.
    “And what exactly
is
your grade average?”
    “C-plus.” Keira’s chin was level, her neck long. She didn’t blink once. “Mom was happy.”
    Grandmother Johnson looked as if she’d swallowed a spider. “Your mother doesn’t understand that children rise to the expectations placed upon them.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “How is it, exactly, that you have earned no better than a C average?”
    Mama hadn’t told her.
    “C
-plus
. I have a learning disability.” Keira said it just like that—no shame at all. “Severe dyslexia.”
    Minni hadn’t thought she could admire her sister any more than she already did, but as she watched Keira be herself without apology, Minni’s pride swelled like an ocean wave.
    Grandmother Johnson didn’t look proud. Her face had grown so tight Minni waited to hear it crack. “Severe dyslexia?”
    Keira shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
    Grandmother Johnson nearly rocketed through the roof. “Not that big of a deal?” She paced. “Not that big of a deal? I’m an educator! I have two master’s degrees in education!” She planted her palm on the table near Keira. “And your mother didn’t think to tell me my granddaughter has a learning disorder?”
    “Disability,” Keira corrected.
    Grandmother Johnson tossed the application onto the table.
    “She’s been doing a lot