“What the hell?” she said.
I took a few seconds. Probably more than a few—but I needed to get my wits back about me. Get my breath back in me.
“Um—sorry, I just spaced out for a minute,” I said, hoping it was just a minute.
“You think?”
“Why?” I said, leery of her answer.
“Because it was like someone unplugged you and plugged you back in,” she said, giving me another once-over. “Weirdest thing I ever saw you do.”
There was a second or two there where I debated maybe telling her. Sharing it with someone would be so liberating. Being able to talk about it—especially with her—tell her some of the family scenes I’d witnessed. That would be awesome. But equally as awesome would be having that person believe me, and Holly wouldn’t be that person. That would be too outside the box for her, and I’d lose whatever small bit of credibility I had. And Greg would be humping my leg.
“Hmm, sorry,” I said instead.
She looked me in the eye, still unsure, but her thoughts were interrupted by Tandy raising hell downstairs like a parade of cats had invaded her doggie door.
“Helloooo?” came a voice from below.
Holly and I both head-jerked to the attic opening, momentarily thrown by what sounded like—
“Hello?” the voice repeated, abrasive and loud, like a parrot that’s been smoking too long. “Anybody here?”
I looked at Holly, whose jaw dropped like mine. Tandy’s rage was not to be calmed, and the combination of the dog’s barking and an old woman griping was almost too much.
“Are you kidding me?” Holly said.
I closed my eyes and let out a breath. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Think we can stay up here and pretend we didn’t hear her?” Holly said, snickering.
“England heard her,” I said. “And the stairs are down.”
“Y’all up there?” she yelled, and I winced.
“God, her voice hurts me,” I whispered.
“We need to go down,” Holly whispered back. “If she comes up here, it’ll be memory lane for days. We’ll have to come back and get this stuff later.”
I got up, realizing I was still sitting cross-legged like in my vision. We headed to the opening, pulled the chain to blanket the attic in darkness, plodded down those stairs, and made it to the top of the regular stairway. All so we could gaze down at the crazy scene of Aunt Bernie holding Tandy at bay with an umbrella.
“Why is she here already?” Holly said through her teeth like a ventriloquist.
I thought of what I’d heard my mother say in the vision, about having to scrounge and scrimp to pay bills because of hard times or having to bail out Uncle Tommy. Of having to clean other people’s houses in addition to her other side jobs, just to pay the bills and keep the roof over our heads when the hardware store wasn’t doing it anymore.
“I guess Mom’s ready to go,” I said.
CHAPTER
8
“WELL, GET DOWN HERE!” AUNT BERNIE CALLED OUT FROM below, looking up at us in all her green glory. She’d always been a firm believer in matching accessories, and it was clear that nothing had changed on that front. She wore green pants with a matching vest over a cream-colored blouse. Green flats on her feet. Green purse, earrings, bracelets, eye shadow, fingernails. Not joking. “I’m not climbing up there till I have to. Come down here and give me a hug.”
We obeyed, like we were six, coming down and hugging her neck.
“Where’s your mother?” she asked.
“She had to go run an errand,” I said. “Was she expecting you today?” Because we sure the hell weren’t.
Aunt Bernie flopped a color-coordinated hand my way. “Oh, I told her it’d be sometime this month, but I never really know where I’m gonna be when.” She laughed, a sound that felt like it could peel the paint off the wall. “That’s the beauty of life with Big Blue.”
Holly nodded and clamped her mouth shut.
The front door opened and I turned to see Ben struggling to haul two big suitcases in. With a scowl on his face that the next city could have felt.
“Um—why are you bringing stuff in?” I asked, as Aunt Bernie turned in a whirl of green to intercept them.
“I’m gonna land in one of the rooms like usual,” she said, which was precisely what I hoped she wouldn’t say. “Gives me a chance to stretch a little. You can bring them upstairs, hon,” she said to Ben, apparently oblivious to the glower. “I don’t care which room.”
“Holly’s,” I said quickly, ignoring her stare into the side of my head. “Here, I’ll help—” I began, reaching for one of them.
“I’ve got it,” he said through his teeth. “Just which way?”
“To the right, across from the bathroom,” I said, scooting out of his way. I imagined being a bellhop wasn’t part of what he signed up for.
Holly elbowed me hard. “Really?” she hissed, as Aunt Bernie peeked out the front door.
“I have a bunch of things still to do in my room,” I whispered. Actually I was thinking about the flashbacks, and what might still come to pass in that room, and I didn’t want an audience.
“So do I,” she said.
“Sorry.”
“So what the holy hell happened to you, Emily Ann?” Aunt Bernie asked, shutting the door with a force that brought the knocker in twice.
“What?”
She pointed at my head. “You and that worker guy both look like you’ve been shooting those paintball guns my nephews like to mess around with.” She lifted what was now a dried hunk of hair and paint. “You’ve got dreadlocks, honey girl.”
Great. “Oh, there was a little incident in the garage,” I said and looked up as Ben made his way slowly back down the stairs. “And he’s not a worker here, he’s—” Ben stopped walking and locked eyes with me, amusement playing across his face. “An old friend of mine,” I said, letting a smile creep up where it wanted to.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, guffawing. “Didn’t mean to put you to work, honey.”
Ben waited a couple of beats before pulling his eyes away from me. Enough to send my stomach on a crazy ride that I wanted to kick myself for.
“It’s all right,” he said, pulling the smile that melted the pants off many a girl once upon a time.
Disturbingly, even Aunt Bernie reacted to it. “Well, aren’t you sweet?” She leaned on one hip. “So, how do you and Emily know each other?”
I saw the thoughts whiz through his eyes. We did the wild thing on her roof once. “We went to school together.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have thought you were that old.”
Holly snickered and headed off to the kitchen, as I fixed my aunt with the best kiss-my-ass look I could muster.
“So, you’re going to have a travel buddy, huh?” I said. “Are you excited?”
“I’m tickled shitless,” she said, making me laugh. “I get so tired of doing everything by myself.”
She walked to the kitchen, so we followed her, and by we I mean me, because Ben quickly passed us up to jump back into his painting regimen and avoid the family reunion. I so didn’t blame him. I so wished I could avoid it, too.
“I mean, I have my friends all over the place that I stop and see,” she continued. “But it always seems like when I run across the most interesting things, I’m alone.” She slapped a hand on the bar, making Holly jump and turn around. “Nobody to share the fun with.”
“Well, I guess you and Mom will be—sharing all the time, now,” Holly said with a smile that didn’t go anywhere past her lips. “How long before y’all take off?”
Aunt Bernie shrugged. “That’s up to her. To whenever she’s comfortable leaving all this with you.”
“Oh, well, it’s only been a week sinc
e she told us,” I said. “There’s still so much to do, so that may be—” Tandy took up a rant again, after coming in her doggie door from the backyard and finding the intruder still there. “You realize she’s coming with you, right?”
Aunt Bernie did a flippity thing with her eyes. “That’s the rumor,” she said thickly. “I keep hoping one of you will miss this thing more and insist on keeping her.”
“Oh, dear lord, no,” I said. “We have a mutual love/hate relationship, leaning more on the dark side.”
“Don’t even think about me,” Holly pitched in, standing in front of the fridge and eyeing the food like she would actually take something. I knew better. “I have two cats and a betta, and that’s all we need.”
I heard voices in the garage right then, and the back door opened for Mom, followed by Cassidy. My heart thunked, as it always did when Cass and Ben shared oxygen.
“Bernie!” Mom exclaimed, setting down a surprising load of bags, considering she’d gone to the store for mustard. “I didn’t know you’d be here today. I would have planned dinner or something.”
Aunt Bernie nodded toward the sink and its potato-ness. “What are you doing?”
Mom glanced behind her and waved a hand at it. “Oh, that’s for an order I’m making. Four pans of potato salad.”
Aunt Bernie put her hands on her hips. “Of course you are. Well, why don’t I make us up some soup or gumbo or something?”
My mouth instantly watered, knowing that in spite of Bernie’s irritating ways, she could make any food into something orgasmic.
“You still work, right?” I asked Cass as she made the round for hugs. I was so thankful that Ben was on the other side of the living room and out of her reach because if she would have hugged him I think I’d have had a coronary.
She made a snarky face. “Nice to see you, too, Mom. And what the heck happened to you?” She backed up and glanced down at her clothes in worry.
“Oh, it’s dry, goofy,” I said, pulling her back to squeeze her tight. “Just had a little run-in with some paint, no big deal,” I said, darting a look toward where Ben was painting. “It all comes out. And I love you, baby girl, I just worry when you seem to be here all the time.” With Ben. Who was also there every flipping day. I wanted to schedule the work so that they’d be on opposite ends of the house, maybe make a spreadsheet? But then they’d probably spend the day laughing together over it.
Cassidy jutted her head toward Aunt Bernie. “I’m trying to spend as much time as I can with Nana before she hits the road, which evidently may be soon? I had her come pick me up.” She shoved at my shoulder. “You can bring me home.”
“Aw, I feel special.”
“This is little Cassidy?” Bernie said, filling the room with her voice as usual.
Cass turned and gave her a mock glare. “You just saw me last year.”
“Nah, it was the year before that,” Aunt Bernie said, her mouth stretched wide in a grin. “You were definitely less grown-up.” She patted Cass’s cheek. “But you’ve always been a stunner. Even as a baby—you know, I think even your hospital picture was cute?”
Cassidy laughed. “Nobody’s hospital picture is good; every one I’ve ever seen looks like an alien.”
“Not yours,” Aunt Bernie said, shaking her head. “I remember seeing those eyes and thinking where on earth did she get those?”
Holly grabbed a lighter like it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. “Let’s light some candles,” she said, her smile brilliant. I glanced at Ben rolling paint and grabbed a nearby jar of cinnamon vanilla and shoved it at her. “We need something to mask the paint smell.”
“Here you go.”
Cassidy laughed, looking at each of us like we’d gone off the grid a little. “All better now?”
“Much,” I said, pinching her cheek so she could flutter her eyelashes and think me crazy. Whatever. Anything to change that subject.
“So where are some of the places you’ve been, Aunt Bernie?” Cassidy asked.
“Oh, goodness, girl, everywhere,” she responded. “Big Blue has brought me to every mainland state and a few places in Canada. Other than that, I’ve visited Honduras, Cancun, and Fiji.”
“London,” Mom said, stirring her giant bowl.
Aunt Bernie pointed. “There, too. Went there with your Uncle Frank.”
Cassidy’s eyes took on that wanderlust look of hers. “Do you have pictures?”
“Hmph,” my mom said, a smile on her lips.
Aunt Bernie did her slap-down move again, making Holly jump for a second time, even though she was watching. “Do I have pictures?” Aunt Bernie laughed so loud, my ears rang with it. “Little girl, I’ve got albums upon albums.”
Cass’s eyes lit up, and I knew she’d found her mother lode. “Oh my God, I have to see.” She bit at her lower lip. “Can I bring Josh over tomorrow and sit and look at them?”
Aunt Bernie tilted her head. “And who is Josh?”
“He’s my boyfriend,” Cass said with a smile that brought a glow from her ankles on up, and made me want to dig my eyeballs out. “And he feels the same way I do about travel. We both want to see everything.” She said this while bouncing on her toes like a kid waiting for a carnival ride.
Aunt Bernie chuckled, and I marveled how even that was loud. “Well, you bring him on over; they are all tucked away in Big Blue and we can sit in there and travel by photo.”
“Cool,” she said, a huge grin on her face. “Ben, you never told me where all you went,” she then called out to him, bringing him into the conversation. His back was to us, but I could tell by the slight drop in his shoulders that he would have rather painted himself into that wall.
“Nowhere exciting, really,” he said, continuing to cut in the paint around the window, slow and perfectly steady. I could never be that steady. My lines always looked like I was drunk.
“Oh, come on,” Cassidy said, relentless. “You had to go somewhere marginally cool.”
“Cass, let him be,” I said, trying to be light but feeling anything but. Holly caught my eye over the bar, where she sat tensely, watching Aunt Bernie put different things in an iron skillet that had rarely seen use. Probably nothing healthy.
“What?” Cassidy said, her easygoing mannerisms making me think of flower children in the seventies sometimes. “He said he traveled.” She focused on his back. “So did you end up staying anywhere? Did you just keep moving all the time like Aunt Bernie? Were you looking for the deep meaning in life?” she added, deepening her voice with a laugh to follow.
Ben turned around, a small smile on his face that I knew was just for show. The rest of his body language was tight and closed. “Well, that would be somewhat, not really, and I stopped looking for meaning a long time ago.”
I felt the goose bumps do a slow burn down my back, spreading around to my arms.
She laughed, a deep husky laugh I was always envious of. “So you just don’t want to say.”
He widened his eyes in mock play. “So, why haven’t you gone to school? Is it fear of failure? Disinterest? What are your long-term goals?”
The room was quiet as she stared at him for a long moment and then let a slow smile tug at her lips. “Touché,” she said softly.
He winked at her and turned back around, leaving the rest of us to chuckle silently. Outwardly anyway. For me, I just saw two peas of the same pod face off on a subject they didn’t even know they had in common.
“So,” Aunt Bernie said, making us all turn around with a start. “What’s up with your dad, little missy?” She said this with her head half in my mom’s condiment cabinet.
Cassidy’s eyebrows lifted and she looked my way as if I could decipher the question. “Um?”
“Kevin’s fine,” I said, my mouth feeling dusty. I went to the fridge and s
tole a Coke. “He was just here, actually. A little bit ago.”
“Really? I’m so sorry I missed him,” Aunt Bernie said, dumping more into the skillet. “Always thought that boy was so cute.”
I could feel Ben’s thoughts zooming through the room and I refused to turn around.
Cassidy’s eyes got wide with sarcasm. “Ah, that’s the perfection I smelled when I came in.”
“That’s not nice,” I said.
“I know,” she said, popping a cracker in her mouth from a platter that had morphed from nowhere. “Sue me. Oh my God, these are to die for.”
I frowned, peering at them. “What are they?”
“Just crackers,” Mom said, turning back to her potato salad. It dawned on me then how quiet she’d been through the whole traveling conversation. She had nothing to contribute. Neither did I, and neither did Holly, but I guess she felt like she should, next to her sister. I could understand that.
“These are not just crackers,” Cass said.
“You mix ranch dressing seasoning with olive oil and toss them in it and sprinkle some red pepper. Better if they dry.”
“Oh, no,” Cass mumbled around a mouthful. “No way these are drying. They’ll never make it that long.” She swallowed and grabbed three more. “Nana, did I tell you about the sopapilla cobbler I learned to make?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“No, you didn’t,” I echoed, smiling at her.
“Well, surprise, surprise, Nana,” she said, with exaggerated eyes at me.
“Huh, that sounds good,” Aunt Bernie said, turning around. “What’s that about?”
“That’s about a zillion calories in sugar and butter,” Cass said, bringing a chuckle from the other three women as she described the process.
It struck me as I watched her there, how grown-up she’d become while I talked to her about growing up. I was always being a mom. There she was amongst older women, talking about cooking and holding her own.
I snatched one of the to-die-for crackers and took a bite. “Oh, man,” I mumbled, not really thinking it was out loud.
Before and Ever Since (9781101612286) Page 11
