A photograph filled the screen. Someone had posted an old family picture where half the people appeared to be squinting directly into the sun.
Patty: Why does Hudson always look like he’s ready to run into a burning building?
Byron: Bc he is.
Three laughing reactions appeared almost instantly.
I squinted, trying to make out the silhouette of the man referred to as Hudson. His hand was blocking the sun while also blocking his face.
A second photo followed.
The same man – presumably Hudson – was standing close to the camera with his back turned and facing a teenager holding what appeared to be an aggressively decorated birdhouse.
Trevor: U NEVER DISPLAYED MY ART
Hudson: It’s literally hanging in my kitchen.
Trevor: prove it
Thirty seconds later a picture of the birdhouse in the kitchen popped up.
Trevor: …
Trevor: acceptable
I actually laughed out loud. It surprised me enough that I looked around as though someone might have witnessed it.
I continued scrolling. The conversation jumped around without warning.
Recipes.
Road trips.
Someone named Karen criticizing someone’s parking.
Someone asking whether the full moon picnic had been moved because of rain.
Mason: WHY DID WE CHANGE APPS??
Byron: Grandma already explained this
Mason: I still don’t get it. The other chat worked fine.
Grandma Ruth: THE OLD CHAT HAD SECURITY LEAKS.
Patty: Like… a lot.
Grandma Ruth: THEY WERE GIVING INFORMATION TO LAW ENFORCEMENT WITHOUT WARRANTS.
Karen: Which I warned everyone about.
Three people reacted with eye-roll emojis.
Grandma Ruth: THE APP IS ENCRYPTED. PERFECT FOR SHIFTERS.
I frowned. Shifters?
My first thought was software developers. Or cybersecurity people. Maybe “shifters” was internet slang I hadn’t encountered yet. The tech world invented new vocabulary every six business days.
Still…
Cybersecurity seemed like a strange hobby for someone calling herself Grandma Ruth.
Unless…
Maybe Grandma Ruth wasn’t actually a grandmother. Maybe she was twenty-three, lived in somebody’s basement surrounded by computer monitors, and had adopted the username ironically.
That was more believable than an elderly woman researching encrypted messaging platforms.
The chat continued flying past.
Trevor: Are u sure u didnt 4get anyone?
Karen: Type normally.
Trevor: wat IS normal in lyfe
Hudson: Definitely not whatever you’re doing.
Grandpa Alfonse: BISCUITS?
There was a full minute of silence.
Then –
Grandma Ruth: YOUR GRANDFATHER WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHO HAS THE CHEDDAR ROLL RECIPE FROM DINNER TONIGHT. HE’D APPRECIATE IF YOU’D SEND IT TO HIM.
Three people responded with photos of recipes.
One person sent only a thumbs-up.
Someone else accidentally uploaded a picture of a lawn mower. Nobody questioned it.
I reached the bottom of the conversation, then realized there wasn’t a bottom. More messages appeared before I finished reading the last ones.
I really needed to leave.
I tapped the group information.
Leave Conversation
My thumb hovered. Then another message arrived.
Hilary: Mom… did you really type everyone’s phone numbers in by hand?
Grandma Ruth: YES.
Several people began typing at once.
Patty: EVERYONE??
Grandma Ruth: I COULDN’T FIGURE OUT HOW TO TRANSFER CONTACTS.
Trevor: legendary honestly
Karen: That’s not legendary. That’s inefficient.
Grandma Ruth: I MADE SURE NOBODY GOT LEFT OUT.
Grandma Ruth: EVEN THE PEOPLE WHO HAVEN’T RESPONDED IN OVER A YEAR.
Several names reacted with embarrassed emojis.
Another message followed.
Grandma Ruth: FAMILY IS STILL FAMILY, EVEN WHEN THEY’RE QUIET.
Something inside me softened before I could stop it. I closed the group information page without leaving. Just for now. Only because my curiosity deserved five more minutes.
Five minutes became twenty.
When I brushed my teeth before bed, I checked the chat again. Someone had started a debate about whether hot dogs counted as sandwiches.
Grandpa Alfonse voted yes. Nobody seemed surprised.
After washing my face, I discovered Trevor had posted a video of a goat wearing sunglasses.
Trevor: boss energy
Eight people agreed.
The next morning, I poured cereal into a bowl and opened the chat before YouTube. Apparently, Mason had left on a road trip. Half the family reminded him to fill up his tank before picking up his girlfriend, three people reminded him to wear sunscreen, two others asked whether he had enough snacks, and Grandma Ruth reminded him to call his mother.
I smiled into my cereal but quickly scolded myself. Reading another family’s group messages was definitely wrong, but no one seemed to notice I was there, and it was more company than I’d had in a long time.
Damn, that was sad.
Still, what harm could it really be continuing to read the chat for a while? It would probably die down once the novelty of the app wore off.
I found myself checking the chat while waiting for files to export. While my coffee brewed. During lunch. When I should have been answering emails.
I wasn’t invested.
I was simply… observing. People-watching from a safe distance.
Around midafternoon, Julie uploaded a flyer.
Julie: Anybody know why this looks… off?
The attached image advertised a garage sale. The colors were at war with each other. The spacing wandered. The headline was centered, but the dates weren’t. The clip art had been stretched until the smiling sun looked vaguely threatening.
Trevor: needs more pizzazz
Hudson: less yellow
Karen: The apostrophe in “Saturday’s” is incorrect.
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