“I don’t know how to make my hair do right,” she screeched and looked at me, panicked.
“Oh! Auntie,” I said, clutching my hand to my chest and catching my breath. “Don’t scream like that. You scared me!”
“Well don’ jus’ stand there with your mouth all open.” She gestured for me to help her.
Aria had come up behind me and was trying and failing not to laugh at the scene in front of her.
“So cute,” she said between chuckles.
“Whatcha on about ova there, lil’ chile?” she directed at Aria.
“Oh, nothing, Auntie,” she said, stifling a laugh. “I’m going to finish my brownies.” She headed back downstairs, seeing there was no real emergency and she was not needed.
“Don’t burn the brownies!” I called as I headed into the bathroom.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” She waved her hand over her head airily as she headed downstairs.
I turned back to Opal and tried to see what she wanted me to do exactly. When I asked her, she replied simply, “Make me up, chile!”
I rolled my eyes. Of course, make her up. I began to take the rollers out and got a big round bristle brush from the drawer and the blow dryer and went to work. I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew how she wore her shoulder-length silver hair every day, so I just went for that.
When I was done, she took one look in the mirror and turned her head to one side, then the other, and said, “Okay.” Then pushed me out and closed the door in my face to finish getting ready.
“You’re welcome,” I muttered as I went back down to the kitchen to check on dinner, as it should be ready now. When I walked into kitchen, Aria had just taken out the potpie and was putting in her brownies.
“Did you change the oven temperature to what the brownies need to be at instead of the potpie?” I cautioned.
“No? Was I supposed to?” She paused.
“Didn’t you read the box?” I went over to retrieve it from the trash can to see what the oven setting was supposed to be on.
“Of course I did, Mom. Gosh!” She placed the brownies on the center rack and closed the lid. “I read the box. I was just messing with you. Look at you digging in the trash. Eww.”
“Hey, these are brownies you’re talking about.” I threw the box at her, and she ducked out of the way, laughing. Just then the doorbell rang, and we both froze.
“This is so exciting,” Aria exclaimed.
“Why are you so excited? He’s not here for you.”
“’Cause it’s cute.”
“There’s that word again. Go get Auntie while I get the door,” I instructed.
“’Kay!” She bounded up the stairs happily.
I went to the front door and opened it to find Mr. Davis with a bouquet of flowers, looking like he was about to face a firing squad.
“Hi, Mr. Davis. Come in.” I moved aside to let him in.
“Hello, Dacey—and thank you.” He bent down to pet Rufus, who had come to see who was at the door. “Hey, buddy. You feeling okay today?”
Rufus licked his hands like they were covered with peanut butter.
“You don’t seem surprised that I’m not surprised to see you here,” I said, bemused. “And if you followed that, then you’re perfect for my aunt.”
“I knew that you were aware of me and Opal’s acquaintance since the first day.” He straightened up and held out the flowers to me. “I must apologize, for that is not how I would have liked to have been introduced to you.”
“These are for me?” I was astounded, taking the flowers from him.
“Aria and you, yes,” he corrected. “For making dinner tonight, which smells lovely, if I may add. Rice chicken potpie?”
“How did you know?” I asked, taken aback. I gestured him farther into the living room to have a seat.
“It’s an old-fashioned recipe around these parts,” he said, settling in on the couch.
“My mom gave it to me.”
“Ahh, she knew you’d be making it for us old-timers. Smart woman, your mother.”
Aunt Opal came down the stairs, followed by a still-grinning Aria, to join us. I must admit I smiled when I saw Mr. Davis stand for Opal, whose smile was bigger than Aria’s. She wore a simple lavender dress and pale pink lipstick.
“Opal, you look lovely.” He kissed her hand.
“Oh pssh, Eugene. Not in front o’ the children.” She bowed her head.
“My apologies.” He looked past Opal to Aria. “Aria, pleased to meet you.” He kissed her hand as well.
“Um, hello.” Aria giggled more and, noticing the flowers in my hand, said, “Awww, Auntie. He brought you flowers too!”
“Actually, the flowers are for you and your sister,” Mr. Davis corrected her. “For making tonight’s dinner,” he explained.
“Oh, but you should have gotten some for Auntie,” she pretend-pouted.
“I bring her flowers daily.” I looked around and noticed all the flowers in vases and cups, which I hadn’t quite seen until just now.
“Ahhhh,” Aria sighed.
“Help me put these in water.” I grabbed her by the hand before she could fawn over Mr. Davis any more than she already was.
Once in the kitchen, she turned to me. “Okay, he is one smooth guy.”
“Yeah, I have to admit, he has charm.” I couldn’t find a vase but found two old mason jars and split the flowers up between them, one for me and one for Aria.
“Stop drooling over him. He’s taken,” I said.
“Oh, maybe he will be Uncle Eugene soon.” Her eyes started growing wide at the idea.
“Really? You’re already marrying them off?”
“Well, it’s not like they took their time,” she scoffed.
“True.” I thought back to two days ago and his hasty exit.
“We better get dinner on the table,” I said. “How long do the brownies have?”
She looked at the timer. “Seven more minutes.”
“Okay, that’s enough time for us to set the table.”
We set the table with the fancy plates that Opal had set out earlier and got some dinner rolls out of the breadbox and set them on the table as well. By the time we had finished, it was time for the brownies to come out, which Aria took out of the oven and placed on a cooling rack.
I leaned over to inspect them. They seemed edible. “They smell good.” I inhaled.
“They will taste good too,” she boasted.
“We shall see.”
We called them to dinner, and we all settled in at the table. I waited as everyone took their first bites, as I wasn’t sure how it would taste.
“Um, chile, this ain’t one o’ my recipes,” Aunt Opal said between mouthfuls.
“It’s so good,” Aria crooned.
“This is wonderful, Dacey,” agreed Mr. Davis.
“Thank you,” I said to the table as a whole. “And no, Auntie, it’s not yours. It’s Mom’s. Ann’s,” I corrected at the last minute, afraid I was going to bring on a bout of confusion.
“I didn’t know she had this kinda recipe hidin’ ova there,” Opal said.
“So girls, Opal tells me you both are attending classes at SGC? What are you both majoring in?” asked Mr. Davis, being conversational.
“I’m majoring in journalism, and Aria is studying in theater,” I informed him.
“Why journalism?”
“She is an amazing writer,” Aria cut in, then said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to cut in.”
“No, no. It’s okay. I see you have your first fan.” He gestured to Aria, smiling.
“They have always been that way,” Opal said nonchalantly, with a wave of her hand. “She’ll be cheerleadin’ for her in a lil’ while, just you wait.” She winked at me.
“Is that so?” he said, amused. “It’s nice to see siblings so close. I have a brother, but he and I had a falling-out a number of years ago and no longer speak,” he said sadly.
“That won’t happen to these girls. Th
ey tigher’n glue.” Opal nodded to solidify her statement.
“That’s great. I wish I could get the years back lost with my brother, but now it just is too far gone.” He shook his head. “Now then, Aria, or should I ask Dacey,” he winked, “what is your major?”
“She’s majoring in theater,” I accommodated. “And she will be a great actress.” I smiled at her.
“Oh, is that right?” he asked, surprised. “Any upcoming productions?”
“I have one I’m auditioning for in a few days,” she said shyly.
“Anything I know?”
“It was written by my professor. It’s called The Frost. It’s based off of a collection of poems written by Robert Frost,” Aria supplied.
“Sounds very interesting. Mind if I attend opening night?”
“Well, I have to actually get a part first.”
“I don’t have any doubt you will.” He winked at her.
“Both o’ my girls are goin’ to be great at whateva they do,” Opal proclaimed proudly.
“Thanks, Auntie,” we both said in unison.
“Don’t go givin’ Eugene the heebie-jeebies with that.” She motioned between the two of us.
“It’s fine, Opal. It’s amusing.” He studied me. “You are dating Trevor Martin, an employee of mine, correct?”
“Yesss, sir,” I drew out, not sure where this was going. Was this going to be a conflict of interest or something?
“It’s fine. And please, call me Eugene,” he said, noticing my panic. “It was how I met Opal, actually. The day you brought in Rufus, I was there doing some paperwork and I saw Trevor and you all on the security cameras in the parking lot. Then I was told that the owner of Rufus wanted to personally talk to me to assure that Rufus was being taken good care of, and after a number of attempts, she finally got me on the phone.” He looked over at Aunt Opal.
“Sorry ’bout that. I was worried about my Rufus.” She bowed her head humbly.
“It’s quite all right. In my profession, you get that a lot. I went to Trevor to get a report on Rufus’s condition and talked to him. He mentioned he and you were dating. Then I gave that update to your aunt, and we got to talking more...and, well...” He nodded his head as if to say, “Here we are.”
“Yes, here we are,” Opal put it into words.
He and Opal stared at each other across the table like they were lovesick teenagers. The fact that Opal was almost seventy but didn’t look it, and I had to guess that Mr. Davis was around her age if not older, made it slightly icky. But seeing the look on her face overrode that feeling. I got up to clear the table and offered dessert.
“I’m sorry, but I must pass. I’m afraid that I’m not a chocolate lover,” Mr. Davis declined.
“I’m too stuffed from dinner for anythin’ else.” Aunt Opal patted her stomach.
“More for you and me,” said Aria, rubbing her hands together greedily.
“Can I offer you some coffee, then?” I asked them both, being the dutiful host.
They both declined, stating they were going to go in the living room to talk while Aria and I cleaned up.
Since no one else wanted brownies, we ate them from the pan while we cleaned up. They were actually pretty good, gooey in the middle and crispy around the edges the way I like them. Aria was proud she had done a good job and gave herself a pat on the back. We washed the brownies down with milk and finished up the kitchen and then joined Eugene and Aunt Opal in the living room where they were seated, talking quietly.
“Dacey, Opal tells me that you come over every morning?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.
I looked at her to see if she wanted me to tell him exactly why I came over every morning. She gave me a slight nod.
“Um, yeah. She’s been having some problems, and I’ve been worried, so I come over to check on her.”
“She has told me. Some memory lapses. I don’t want to come in and take your job away, but I would pass by here on my way to the office, so I could check on her on the days that you are unable.”
“Forgive me if I sound rude,” I started. Opal shot me a look, but I continued, “but why?” I asked bluntly.
“Dacey.” Opal began, but Mr. Davis stopped her.
“It’s fine, Opal. I don’t mind. It’s natural for your family to be skeptical of our relationship, especially so suddenly and with such zest. Opal brings out a side of me that I thought had long since died when my wife died years ago and, as you can see, we are not as young and are therefore not afforded the gift of time...and when you’ve been around for as long as Opal and me, you don’t just ‘date’.”
“Awwww,” Aria chimed in, with this dreamy-eyed look. He was smooth.
“I know that you are busy with your studies and whatnot, and I would like to help wherever I can. Believe it or not, in the short time I’ve known your aunt, I have come to care for her,” he finished up.
“Oookaay,” I drew out. “You’re fine with me not coming over as much, Auntie?” I looked right at her.
“’Course, I am, chile. You do too much.”
“How about I come every other day?” I compromised.
“Eugene?” Opal looked to Mr. Davis as if to ask his permission.
“I’m fine with whatever you decide, Dacey,” he conceded.
“I’ll take Monday, Wednesday, Friday,” I said, making the executive decision.
“Good, now tha’s outta the way,” declared Opal. “You girls best be gettin’ on home now. It’s late.”
I spared a glance at the clock on the wall. It was a quarter to ten. It was late.
“It was great meeting you, Mr. Dav—Eugene,” I said, correcting myself. “Is Mr. Eugene okay?” I still didn’t feel right calling him only by his first name.
“Of course,” he said.
“It was nice meeting you too, Mr. Eugene,” said Aria, following my lead.
“It was great meeting you ladies as well. They are lovely, Opal.” He turned to Opal, and she nodded in agreement.
“Good night, Auntie.” I kissed her cheek, as did Aria.
“Night, chiles.”
We made our exit out the kitchen door, leaving Mr. Eugene and Aunt Opal still talking on the sofa.
“How long do you think they will be talking?” She made air quotes around the word “talking.”
“Eww, A. No, we will not discuss this,” I said with finality.
Wisely, she didn’t mention it again on the drive home while she fiddled with the radio stations, flicking from song to song until I pulled up outside our house.
“Did you notice she didn’t do anything Opaly?” said Aria.
“I did. Tina thinks all she needed was boyfriend.”
“Jussy would.”
“Right. But I noticed how happy she was. I’ve never seen her smile so much,” I mused.
“I know, right? She was so teenage dream tonight.”
“Ugh, the fact I know exactly what you’re referring to speaks volumes,” I cringed.
“Admit it, I keep you hip.” She laughed as she got out of the car.
“Did you just say ‘hip’? That proves that you don’t. What eighteen-year-old uses the word ‘hip’?” I joked.
“The kinds that have sisters and moms who quote Robert Frost and aunts who call them ‘lil’ chile.’”
“Fair enough,” I called as she made her way to the door. I watch her go in and waited a few until I saw a light go on the living room and knew that Mom had probably waited up for her. My suspicions were confirmed when she stuck her head in the window to wave to me and made a gesture with her thumb and pinky finger to her face, indicating for me to call her later. I waved to let her know I understood and drove off. It had been a long night, and with the promise of a double feature, it would be even longer.
Chapter 6
By the time I pulled up outside my dorm hall, it was ten thirty. I sent a quick text to Trevor letting him know I was home. I told him I was leaving my door unlocked and I would be in the shower
. Then I went in and got my shower caddy and sleeping clothes. I was halfway through my shower, amazed that I was the only one in the bathroom tonight, when I felt the first pangs of pain in my stomach shoot through me. I guess dinner didn’t agree with me like I thought. Pushing through it, I finished up my shower and put on my cotton tank top and pajama bottoms. I was headed out when I felt the pangs shoot through my stomach again, causing me to stop in my steps. I had just enough time to make it to one of the bathroom stalls before full sickness hit me. I was there about ten minutes when I heard the door open.
“Pizza boy is looking for you,” Kelly yelled in through the door without coming in.
I groaned. I must have been in here longer than I thought if he sent her in here to check on me.
“Um, are you okay? You don’t sound so good,” she asked worriedly now.
I groaned again, another wave of pain coming over me. I heard the door close, then two seconds later...
“Babe?” Trevor called out.
“Oh my god, go away,” I said, mortified. This was so embarrassing.
“What’s the matter with you? Kelly said you sounded sick,” he said, sounding worried.
Since when was he on a first-name basis with Kelly? I wondered.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I said as another pang of pain shot through my stomach and I groaned loudly.
“Babe, you’re worrying me. I’m going to come in,” he started.
“No!” I yelled out. “I’m...sick.” God, this was not something you shared with your boyfriend.
“Yeah, I can hear that.”
“My stomach is upset...and not the vomiting kind of upset.” I was glad he couldn’t see my face.
“Oh,” he said. Then, “Ooohhh. I get it.” As it dawned on him, I heard him chuckle under his breath.
“It’s not funny, Trevor!”
“Babe, you don’t need to be embarrassed about it. It’s totally natural, and besides, we have been dating for a year and a half. Don’t you think it’s about time I see this side of you now?” he teased.
“No,” I groaned as I was hit with more sickness.
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