Chapter Forty-Three
THE LAST FOUR DAYS at the beach have been great. Horace and Ida enter my thoughts a lot. I sure hope they can get here one day. Pensacola would be a nice place for them to have their honeymoon. I decide to make a list of all the places they might want to go if they ever do. I write down names of hotels and restaurants. I write down the place where we watched a school of dolphins swim by and where you can rent out giant beach umbrellas. Even as I write these things, I know Horace and Ida will need help getting around. If I were older, I’d take them here and anywhere they’d want to go.
It’s Corbin’s birthday. We’ve sung “Happy Birthday” a zillion times, beginning with his pancake breakfast. He should be excited about his magic show tonight, but he seems nervous. Whenever anyone mentions the show, he gets quiet and pushes at the nose bridge of his glasses. When I see him sitting on the steps outside the front door, I join him. “What’s wrong, Corbin?”
“I can’t pull a rabbit out of the hat,” he whispers. “I’m going to mess up.”
I’m confused because I thought he didn’t know anything about the rabbit. He must have found out. Why else would he have planned the trick?
So I ask, “How are you going to pull a rabbit out of the hat? I thought you weren’t getting one until Christmas?”
“Mom gave me a rabbit.”
Now I’m really confused.
Corbin leaves the room and comes back with a stuffed rabbit.
I sigh. “Of course!” There’s still going to be a surprise. “Of course you can pull a rabbit out of the hat. You just have to practice. Do you want me to help?”
He shakes his head. “No, a magician never shares his secrets.” He walks away.
A couple of hours later, Tristen arrives. After updating his dad on the Dallas delivery, he motions for me to follow him. We go downstairs to his truck. He lifts a cage sitting on the floorboard. A white rabbit with pink eyes twitches its nose.
“Okay, here’s what I need from you, cousin. We’re going to hide the cage behind the ice chest in the mudroom. When Corbin begins his magic show, slip downstairs and get the rabbit. Bring it upstairs. When Corbin pulls the stuffed rabbit out of his hat, say, ‘Ta-da!’ and hold up the real rabbit.”
I feel giddy, like I’m one of Santa’s helpers.
“Are you up to it?”
“Yes!”
“Awesome.”
“I can’t wait!”
“It’ll be great. I hope you don’t mind that I asked you. It’s just he would notice anyone in the family that was missing.”
When he says that, my stomach sinks. I guess I’d started to feel like part of the family. But I straighten my shoulders and follow him inside. This is Corbin’s day. And nothing will keep me from making it anything but the best birthday ever.
* * *
AND IT IS the best birthday ever. Corbin is doing the “pick a card” trick when I go downstairs for the rabbit. The rabbit looks back at me with those pink eyes. “Hey, Mr. Rabbit. You’re about to meet the best little guy for a friend. Be good to him.”
When I sneak upstairs with the cage, Corbin stands in the middle of the room with everyone gathered around. I stand back, near the front door, so he won’t see me. He asks Megan to pick a card. “I’ve already picked a card. We’ve all had two turns. Let’s see another trick.”
“Yes, Corbin,” Aunt Teresa says, “pull a rabbit out of the hat.”
Corbin’s shoulders let down, and I’m remembering our talk on the stairs. “I don’t think I’m ready.”
I rest the cage down and step forward. “You’ll never know unless you try. Remember you told me that when I met you?”
Corbin takes a deep breath and pulls his hat off. He puts his handkerchief over the hat and shows everyone.
“See?” he says. “No rabbit.”
“There’s not a hare in sight,” says Tristen. He winks at me.
I walk to the cage and open it. I pick up the rabbit, who is not at all happy about it. He scratches my arm so hard, I have to bite my lip so that I don’t cry out. The rabbit wiggles from my hold.
Corbin removes his handkerchief and pulls the stuffed rabbit out of the hat. “Ta-da!”
Everyone except Corbin looks in my direction. I squat, but the rabbit is hopping away. He hops, hops, hops until he’s under a chair.
Aunt Teresa claps. Corbin bows and bows.
I block one end and Megan blocks the other. She bends down and pulls the rabbit out from under the chair. “Gotcha!”
But just as Megan starts to stand, the rabbit scratches her. “Ouch!” She lets go. He hops and hops around the room. Everyone is laughing, trying to catch him, except for Corbin, who is still standing in the same spot. When the rabbit moves to the side of the couch, Uncle Lloyd heads in the rabbit’s direction, but he trips and falls over a sofa arm. Tristen corners the rabbit near the coffee table. The rabbit slips away, escaping through his open legs. Finally, the rabbit stops when he reaches Corbin’s feet. We all freeze. We’re afraid to move.
It’s now that Corbin notices.
He squeals and picks up his new pet. “I did it! I made a rabbit appear! I’m magic!”
Chapter Forty-Four
WE’VE BEEN AT THE BEACH for five days and we’ve just finished the annual crawfish-boil dinner. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to catch Aunt Teresa alone. I want to ask a lot of questions. The newspapers have been thrown away along with the crawfish shells and corncobs. Megan says I’m now an official Cajun since I’ve learned to appreciate sucking the crawfish heads.
Corbin’s attention to his rabbit has given us a break from picking cards. He’s sitting on the floor next to the cage, watching his new pet, Lucky Dog.
Tristen stands and cracks his knuckles. “Ready for me to defend my King of Charades title?”
“Your what?” I ask.
“You’ve never played charades?” Megan is clearly baffled.
“No way, cuz!” Tristen shakes his head in mock shame. “Deprived!”
“I’ll bet Stevie has played chess,” Aunt Teresa says.
How did she know?
“Your daddy liked chess when he was a bitty boy,” she says. “Momma taught him. She’d take Sheppard to play with the old men at the country club in Alex. Made my daddy so mad. We weren’t even members. We didn’t have that kind of money. But that didn’t stop Momma when she got a notion in her head. Remember I told you she didn’t believe in rules? Then Sheppard went on to play in school. Won a lot of championships. You should see the trophies.”
“Yeah,” Tristen says. “He must have been something else. He won all over the state.”
Megan laughs. “One of his trophies says ‘Gumbo Chess King’!”
“Really?” I never knew Dad had won titles or competed in school.
“Trip to the attic,” Megan says. “That’s where Uncle Sheppard’s trophies are. Add it to the list, Daddy.”
Using his finger, Uncle Lloyd writes in the air. “Got it!” Then he says, “Yeah, your daddy played all the time until that kid moved into town. Whiz kid. Beat Sheppard bad with that funny move. I can’t remember what they called it. What was it called, Tristen?”
“Cherub mate?” I ask at the same time Tristen says it.
“You know the story?” he asks.
I’d always thought the tattoo on my dad’s belly represented the game that won the farm.
“Do you need to know the rules?” Tristen is standing now.
“Chess? No, I know those rules by heart.”
“No, cousin. Charades.” Tristen is punching his fist into his other palm, clearly ready to defend his title.
“But I’ve never played.”
“It’s easy, easy,” Megan begins.
Tristen interrupts, shaking his finger at Megan. “Ah-ah-ah. You’d better let me explain. You need to learn from an honest person.”
“Hey, now!” Megan puts her hands on her hips, pretending to be offended.
Corbin pops up from the floor and mov
es across the room until he stands directly in front of me. He rotates his fist like he’s cranking a camera. “This means movie.” He goes on to show the gestures for book and TV show.
Tristen explains, “You have to get the others to guess which title you’re acting out.”
“You can’t talk,” Megan adds.
“And that is why Megan always loses,” Tristen says. “She can’t keep her mouth shut.”
Megan throws her hands in the air. “Kill Tristen! Add that to the list, Daddy!”
Aunt Teresa is taking inventory in the refrigerator. “Don’t forget to add milk to the list.”
We crack up.
“Oh, Momma,” Megan groans.
Aunt Teresa turns around. “What?”
I study them. They’re laughing and talking at the same time. They’re like a well-fitting glove. And in that moment, I want so badly to be a part of them.
Chapter Forty-Five
THE CHARADES GAME has been going on an hour, and there’s no end in sight. Aunt Teresa is the only one who isn’t playing, and I realize this is my chance to be alone with her.
“I fold,” I tell the rest.
“Aw, you’re doing so good, too,” Megan says.
“No, you’re the Crazy Smiths. Can’t beat you.”
“She’s got us pegged,” Uncle Lloyd says.
“My turn!” Tristen holds his open palms together.
“Book!” yells Corbin.
In the kitchen, Aunt Teresa is writing something on a notepad. “I’m finishing the grocery list for the last few days. We’re already out of snack food.”
I’ve eaten a mountain of corn chips.
She pushes the chair across from her with her foot. “Tired of charades?”
I sit. “I’m better at chess. But I haven’t played in a long time.”
“Yeah, your daddy was something.”
“Why did Dad leave Louisiana?”
“You don’t know?” Aunt Teresa studies my face, chin to forehead.
I shake my head.
“Oh, Stevie, your parents must have kept so much from you.”
This hits a nerve. Even though I’ve been feeling this way since I left New Mexico, I say, “They just didn’t like to talk about their pasts.”
“Obviously.”
“I was taught that today is what matters.” A lump gathers in my throat.
She raises her eyebrows.
“We were happy.” I hear the choke in my voice. I miss them so much. I want her to know what great parents they were. They were perfect. Well, maybe not perfect, but almost. We were a trio. It bothers me that Aunt Teresa doesn’t see what I know deep in my heart. But I also know that if I’ve learned anything since leaving New Mexico, it’s that my parents had secrets.
Aunt Teresa lets out a big sigh and looks toward the water. “Your dad didn’t want to take over the nursery. Sheppard was going to be a chess champion. In many ways, I think he did it because of Momma. He wanted to make her proud of him, even beyond the grave. And for a while, it looked like his dream was going to come true. Until he lost that game to that kid from Kenner. He lost something else when he lost that game. He lost his confidence. He’d lose over foolish plays. He’d lose one minute into the game. It was devastating to watch. Our dad told him the writing was on the wall. He might as well take up his destiny.
“The nursery needed him. Daddy needed him. I was married to Lloyd and we were living in Norfolk. Lloyd was in the navy. That was his dream. When your dad took off, Lloyd didn’t reenlist. He came back to Louisiana with me and helped Daddy with the nursery. I don’t like remembering this, but I was mad at Sheppard. Real mad. He called once when he heard Daddy had died. We got into it big-time. I told him he was selfish and spoiled. And when he didn’t come back home for Daddy’s funeral, I didn’t think I’d ever forgive him.”
“Did he ever call back?”
Aunt Teresa taps the pen on the tablet. “No. That was the last time we spoke.”
A burst of laughter comes from the other room. “That is not a title!” I hear Megan yell.
Aunt Teresa touches my arm. “Look, you can blame me as much as him for our separation. We wasted a lot of years. Eighteen years. When I found out … what happened, I was devastated. I guess I always thought there’d be time for us to make up and get on with things. But now it’s too late. Then I learned about you and I thought, Here’s my second chance. I can’t make it up to my brother, but I can have a relationship with his child. My niece.”
I’m not sure what to say. It’s all so much to take in.
“So he taught you to play chess? I’m surprised he still played.”
“He won our farm in a chess game.” I say it proudly. I want her to know Dad wasn’t a loser.
“That’s something,” she says, and I can tell she’s impressed. “Stevie, Uncle Lloyd and I have been talking since you’ve come to visit. We want you to live with us. We all love you. You’re so easy to love. And you’re family.”
Her words cause a lump in my throat. I can’t speak.
“Don’t answer now, but think about it. Please.”
We reach for each other at the same time, and she gives me a squeeze. “I’m a good hugger,” she says.
“You are,” I manage to say without crying. “Do you mind if I go for a walk on the beach?”
“By yourself?”
I nod.
“Don’t go too far, and take a flashlight.”
Before leaving the kitchen, I say, “I thought Winston would have called more often.”
Aunt Teresa looks embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. Forgive my ditzy brain. He did call. Three times since you’ve come to us. He just wanted to know if you needed anything. And, of course, you don’t.”
How do I tell her I needed to know that?
Aunt Teresa follows me through the charades room. Megan hollers, “Want some company?”
I shake my head, and my aunt says, “I think Stevie needs some time to herself.”
“Oh,” Megan says softly.
An awkward quiet falls over the room. I walk through the front door and take the stairs down to the landing.
It’s dusk, and I think about how Mom grew quiet at this time of day. Maybe she was thinking of my grandfather. I’m thinking of him now. Winston is usually doing the books at this time or taking in late arrivals.
I step on something sharp and discover an oyster shell sticking up in the sand. My thoughts turn to pearls and how the magic of time turns a grain of sand into something round and hard, so solid it could never return to a grain of sand. Maybe that’s what happened with Mom and Winston. A hurt that grew over the years into something round and hard. There was no returning. And that’s sad, because if my parents taught me anything, it was that hope exists in any situation. The way they continued to water a wilted plant, the way they weathered the days when no one stopped by the stand. They taught me hope.
The sun is now a pinkish-orange ball skimming the gulf. I think about Winston and how he cut Mom off from the world because he didn’t want to lose her when my grandmother died. Mom ended up doing exactly what he feared most. Maybe Winston didn’t want to let me into his life because he didn’t want to be hurt again. He’d lost me once before. My body feels heavy moving through the sand. I walk closer to the tide and let the water reach my toes. When I turn around, I realize I’ve broken my promise to Aunt Teresa. I’ve walked a long way from the cabin. So I head back.
Soon, I notice a group of people moving in my direction. It’s my family. They must have been worried about me. The heaviness I felt just moments ago gives way to a warmth traveling all the way up to my head. They care about me, maybe even love me, like Aunt Teresa said. They’re too far for me to hear what they’re saying, but I can hear Uncle Lloyd’s voice and I figure he’s telling one of his funny Cajun jokes. It must have been awful, because now I hear Aunt Teresa say, “Lloyd, shame on you!”
For the first time since my parents died, I know where I belong. My body fee
ls lighter and I move quickly toward them. My family, the Crazy Smiths. I’ll miss each one of them.
Chapter Forty-Six
“TEXAS SUNRISE MOTEL.” The voice is familiar.
“Roy?”
“The one and only. Hey, is this that deserter? The girl who ran away to Louisiana?”
“The one and only,” I say. “Where’s Winston? He’s okay, isn’t he?”
“He stepped away for a couple of hours. I’m officially in charge of the Bloomin’ Office.”
“How’s your dad?”
“He’s fine. He’s at the movies.”
I wonder why he went without Roy, but I ask, “How’s Violet?”
“She’s at the movies.”
I connect the dots. “Wait a minute—what?”
“Mmm hmm,” Roy says. “You got it.”
“A lot has happened in two weeks.”
“Yep. A pipe broke, three rooms flooded, discovered a leak from the roof, and an old yellow cat showed up that doesn’t seem to want to leave. Winston gripes, but I’ve caught him feeding it. You’d better get back before the Texas Sunrise Motel falls apart.”
I’m wishing Roy would say he misses me, but I remember how he acted funny when I said good-bye.
Then Roy says, “And you need to get back so I can teach you to brake on those skates.”
“Would you leave Winston a message for me?”
“Sure. Hold on. Let me get a pen.”
I’m waiting and waiting. Then Roy speaks into the phone. “Sorry, I’m still looking.”
“Winston keeps the pens in the middle drawer,” I tell him.
“Thanks!”
I hear the drawer screech open, a sound I’ve heard a thousand times before.
“Okay,” Roy says. “I’m ready.”
“Ask Winston to send me a ticket home.”
And even though we’re hundreds of miles away from each other, I hear the pen drop.
* * *
A FEW DAYS LATER, I still haven’t received the ticket and Winston hasn’t bothered to call. When I mention it to Aunt Teresa, she jokes, “Well, maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he wants you to stay with us.”
Blooming at the Texas Sunrise Motel Page 16
