by Katie Ashley
A flight attendant leaned in towards my seat and grinned, exposing two rows of perfectly capped teeth. “Hi there. What would you like to drink?”
“Nothing,” I mumbled.
The smile faded a little. That wasn’t the answer she expected. I mean, I looked like an average teenager--the type featured in Coke or Vitamin Water commercials, soaking up the sun while enjoying an ice cold beverage of the non-alcoholic kind. So why would I refuse her?
But what she didn’t know is a drink couldn’t possibly dull the ache in my chest.
“Are you sure?” the flight attendant pressed, trying her best to maintain her plastered smile.
“Um yeah, I think so,” I snapped. I tried not to let my internal monologue slip out. If I had, I would’ve said something like, “And I don’t want any of your damn peanuts or cookies either, okay? You ask me again, and I’ll tell you where to stick them!”
Remy kicked the back of my seat. I whirled around and glared at him as the flight attendant squealed away in defeat.
Since Dad and Colt always got airsick, they had popped Dramamine the moment we got to the airport. In the seat next to me, Dad’s head lolled over to his right side, and he was snoring slightly. Behind us, Colt was dead to the world with his head pressed against the window.
“You better be glad Dad’s out cold, or he would have totally called your ass out on the way you treated the flight attendant chick,” Remy said. He leaned over the top of my seat and stared down at me. I dodged out of the way just before he could wet willy my ear.
“Um, how are old are we again?” I snapped, shoving his head back over the seat. Colt didn’t even stir when Remy flopped back down beside him.
“Look, you gotta stop acting so hostile about the Savannah situation.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re going to be off on a million dollar bond while I’m stuck with Mom.”
“Come on, Jules. You know she’s really not that bad. Just try to give her another chance.”
“Spare me.”
“Fine, be a brat,” Remy replied, easing back in his seat.
After listening to Dad snore for a few minutes, I rummaged in my carry-on for my iPod and a book. I turned on the music and tried getting lost in a trashy romance novel. It wasn’t long before the Captain’s voice rattled over the intercom. “Ladies and Gentleman, we’re about ten minutes outside of Savannah Airport. We will be arriving shortly to clear skies and a temperature of 87 degrees.”
Dad yawned and stretched in the seat beside me. As he wiped the drool off his chin, he shot me a sheepish look “I was really knocked out, huh?”
I laughed. “Yeah, I think it was the snoring that gave you away.”
Behind us, Colt was taking a little longer to reanimate. Remy wasn’t helping matters by pestering the crap out of him. “Dude, if you don’t leave me the hell alone…” I heard Colt warn.
After the plane skidded onto the runway and came to a stop, we grabbed our carry-on luggage, and then deplaned. When we got to the last security check, Dad asked, “So you’ll be all right from here?”
“Um, it’s already enough that you guys came on the plane with me instead of getting a direct flight to Naples. I think I can get my bags and meet Mom outside just fine.”
“Okay, then.” He leaned over and hugged me. “Have fun, and try to get along with your mom.”
“I’ll try.”
He squeezed me tight. “I’ll see you again in a week or two.”
When I pulled away, I wagged my finger just like Big Mama. “You better get back here as soon as you can.”
Dad chuckled. “I will.”
I then turned my attention to the boys. “Do me proud, guys.”
Remy grinned. “Would we do anything else?”
Colt nodded. “And we promise we won’t rub it in your face too much when we get back.”
I smacked his arm. “Try hard, okay? This is pure torture for me.”
He laughed. “I will. And you try hard with Mom.”
“No comment.”
Dad glanced at his watch. “All right, let’s break up the goodbyes. We have a plane to catch, and I’m sure Annabel is waiting on Jules.”
We all hugged one last time, and then Dad and the boys headed down to their terminal. I sighed and turned to follow the herd of people towards the luggage carousel. After waiting what seemed a small eternity, my massive rolling bag came into view. I grabbed it up and hurried towards security.
As I exited the checkpoint, my heart fluttered in my chest while my stomach twisted in and out of knots. Families with “Welcome Home” signs stood along the partition. Some waved and squealed when they saw their relatives. Chewing my lip, my eyes flickered over the faces in the crowd. None of them looked familiar.
Mom wasn’t there.
Tears stung my eyes. Pissed at myself for being a crybaby and at Mom for being a deadbeat parent, I started for the parking lot. As I headed out the double doors, sunshine blinded my eyes. I lowered my sunglasses from the top of my head. This was just great. Forced against my will to spend time with my mom, and she can’t even manage to get her ass to the airport to pick me up.
“Julianne?”
I whirled around. And there she was—Mommie Dearest in the flesh. She wore a designer violet sundress with spaghetti straps. A white wide brimmed hat sat on her head while her honey blond hair just reached her shoulders. She barely looked a day over thirty, even though she was creeping towards forty.
We just stood there, staring at each other. It wasn’t quite the reunion I had pictured. I’d been lame enough to fantasize about running into Mom’s waiting arms where she would say, “Oh Julianne, I’ve been so utterly and completely stupid! How could I have ever left you and the boys? I promise right here and now to make it up to you. First things first, I’m coming home right this instant to be a wife and a mother!”
And like always, my fantasies were nothing even remotely close to the truth.
Mom stepped forward, a tentative smile on her face. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t inside to meet you. I got caught up at a garden party.”
I shrugged. “Whatever, Annabel.”
Mom’s face fell a little at the formality of using her first name. It was something I’d thought of doing on the plane just to tick her off. She recovered from her shock to say, “Oh, well, Andrew is here with the car.” She motioned over to where a black Lincoln Town Car was parked by the curb. I wondered how he’d managed to stay there so long without an airport cop saying something to him. Guess money does speak pretty loudly around here.
At her wave, Andrew hopped out of the car and jogged over to us. He was remarkably spry for a man in his sixties, and his dark eyes always had an impish glint in them. Andrew had worked for the family for years. After my grandparents died, Aunt Vivian kept him on to do little things around the house and drive her around. I guess you could say he was her “special friend”. I didn’t want to think of my sixty-year-old great aunt having a ‘friends with benefits’ sort of relationship.
“Well, hello there!” he bellowed, pushing back a curly lock of his salt and pepper hair.
“Hi,” I replied.
A warm smile spread across his face. “My have you grown up! You were just a little whipper snapper when I saw you last. Now you’re a beautiful young woman.”
Returning his smile, I replied, “Thank you.”
He gathered up my luggage as if it weighed no more than a feather and started for the car. Mom turned and followed, so I fell in step behind her.
As I slid across the leather seats, I was careful not to sit close to Mom. I was still too pissed at her for going to a freakin garden party when she should have been there to meet her only daughter.
Mom reached in her purse and took out a compact. She began touching up her makeup, which appeared flawless to me. “So,” she began, interrupting the silence, “How was your flight?”
“Fine.”
“Are Remy and Colt well?”
“They’re fi
ne.”
“And William and Julia?”
“Big Mama and Granddaddy are fine.”
At my lack of conversation and overuse of the adjective fine, Mom sighed and snapped her compact shut. She shoved it back in her purse. “Aunt Vivian and Aunt Lenore are really excited about your visit.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing Aunt Vivian,” I replied honestly. After all, Aunt Vivian was a real hoot. Last time I’d been here, she had just divorced her fourth husband. She was actually my great-aunt since she and my grandmother were sisters. Aunt Lenore, on the other hand, was my mom’s older sister…a totally unpleasant person. Like majorly unpleasant.
“Vivian has insisted on throwing you a party this Friday night.”
I frowned. “A party?”
Mom nodded. “Just a little something to introduce you to society.”
The words “a little something” and Aunt Vivian didn’t belong in the same sentence. “She’s not doing one of those Coming Out parties is she?” The last thing on earth I wanted to be associated with was a debutant. Before Mom left home, I’d heard her use the word ‘debutant’ derogatively on more than one occasion.
“No, no, it’s nothing like that. There will be lots of parties during the summer season, and people will need to know who you and your family are.”
“Sounds thrilling.”
Mom ignored my sarcasm. Instead, she scanned my outfit from the holes in my faded jeans to my scuffed up cowboy boots. “Of course, we’ll need to take you shopping.” Before I could react, she reached out and ran her fingers through my hair. “We won’t have to do anything with your hair. It’s gorgeous. But you definitely need a facial, and some new make-up would be a good idea.”
I jerked back. “I think I look fine.”
Mom narrowed her eyes at me. “Would you like to talk about the animosity you’re feeling?”
“Isn’t it enough I have to spend time with you against my will, but now you’re insulting the way I look?” I huffed.
“I wasn’t insulting the way you looked, Julianne. I was simply pointing out that you will need to dress and act a certain way while you’re here.”
“Yeah, well, that sounds like an insult to me, not to mention something I’m not going to do. I don’t pretend to be something I’m not,” I argued.
Our mother-daughter bonding moment was interrupted by Andrew slamming on the brakes. A tour trolley had careened in front of him. Contending with the daily barrage of visitors stalking around was a part of living in the Historic section.
As the Lincoln eased into the driveway, I pressed myself against the window, taking in everything I’d forgotten about the house. Nothing really had changed. It was the same cream coloring with navy shutters. The front porch sat wide and deep between the white Doric columns. I guess you’d call it a mansion, rather than a house. It had eight bedrooms and five baths. There was even a ballroom.
But it was all a little too fancy for me. I preferred our ranch, with its comfortable furniture, to all the fine china and antiques of Percy House, as it was known.
Andrew turned the car off, and I hopped out. When I started to grab one of my bags, he waved me away. “No, no, I’ll take care of those.”
I started up the sidewalk through a barrage of multicolored flowers in bloom. Glancing up from the rainbow of petals, I saw Aunt Vivian standing on the porch, shielding her eyes from the sun. When her hand caught the light, the reflection off the blinging diamonds on her fingers could have blinded someone. I guess she must’ve come from the same garden party Mom had been at because she was all decked out in a navy dress suit and heels while her gray hair was swept back with glittering combs.
“Julianne!” she cried, hurrying down the four porch steps and onto the walkway. “Why let me look at you, child!” Putting both hands on my shoulders, she twirled me around, sizing me up from head to toe. “While your ensemble leaves much to be desired, you certainly are the spitting image of your mama.”
A wad of what felt like sawdust invaded my throat. I’d been rendered speechless by the thought that I was even remotely like my mother.
Aunt Vivian pursed her red lips at me. “Julianne, when someone pays you a compliment as nice as I just did, it is customary to say ‘thank you’. I know your mother hasn’t been a part of your family for a while, but I do believe she taught you some manners. Not to mention, your father is a perfectly respectful and amiable man, regardless of his unfortunate profession.”
“Why thank you so very much, Aunt Vivian, for your lovely compliment. But please don’t diss my father’s ‘unfortunate profession’ since I’m very much a part of it,” I snapped.
She winked at me and then glanced at my mother. “Why Annabel, not only does she look like your twin, but she’s got your disposition as well!” Aunt Vivian chuckled. “I’ve always said your mama should’ve been my daughter by the way she acted. She was nothing like that stick-up-her-ass sister of mine.”
“Oh Vivian, really!” Mom replied.
“Lighten up, Annabel. We both know what Lucinda was like, God rest her soul and all.” Aunt Vivian turned back to me. “But your mama was a real spitfire in her day.”
“Yes, my Dad said that’s what he loved about her the most.”
At the mention of “love” and “my dad”, the electricity in the air shifted. Aunt Vivian dabbed her face with a lacy handkerchief while Mom averted her gaze to the blooming rose bushes perfuming the front walk. Aunt Vivian cleared her throat. “I suppose your mother told you about the party we’re throwing on Friday evening.”
“Yes, she did.”
She grinned. “Good. I tell you it’s going to be one of the finest of the summer social season. Our parties are known for being grand, and why with you here, there’s no reason why this one won’t be the grandest yet.”
“I’m not sure a week is enough time to get me Deb ready, Aunt Viv.”
She waved her hand. “I know all that. Besides, Debs only come out at certain times, and there’s intricate protocol in place for an actual Coming Out ball. But, this will be a grand party to introduce you to Savannah. There are many eligible young men that you’ll want to meet. And of course, your cousin, Bryn, can make a lot of the introductions.”
At the mention of Bryn’s name, I cringed. She was my Aunt Lenore’s daughter, and a major snob. She and I had never gotten along. You could say we pretty much loathed the sight of each other. The last time we’d been together it ended in a screaming match. Now she went to some elite boarding school out of state and was barely ever home, though if I had a mom like Aunt Lenore, I’d do the same thing. “Is she here for the summer?”
“On and off. She’s splitting her time between here and her father’s house over on Jekyll Island.” Aunt Vivian leaned in and lowered her voice. “Your Aunt Lenore’s divorce was final a few months ago, and she’s moved back in with us.”
Inwardly, I groaned. On top of being forced to reconnect with Mom, I was expected to suffer the presence of two of the biggest snobs on earth? Dad was seriously going to owe me for this.
“Come, dear, let’s get out of the sun before my make-up puddles.”
I followed her up the steps and across the porch. Aunt Lenore stood behind the enormous mahogany door. “Hello, Julianne,” she said. Her greeting couldn’t have been less enthusiastic if she were welcoming a swarm of locusts into the house.
“Hi Aunt Lenore. How are you?”
“Fine thanks.”
As I peered around, I said, “I hear Bryn is home for the summer, too.”
“Yes, but she won’t be home until supper. Her days are totally filled with the internship she’s doing with Radiate magazine.” At my blank expression, Aunt Lenore gave me an exasperated look. “They’re owned by the same people who put out Vogue.”
She said “Vogue” with the same kind of reverence you’d expect at church. Since my only encounter with Vogue was the song by Madonna, I just nodded and smiled like it was the most amazing thing I’d ever heard.
We stood awkwardly for a moment before Aunt Vivian turned to Mom and said, “Annabel, why don’t you show Julianne to her room?”
Mom nodded and motioned for me to head up the circular staircase. As my boots clacked over the marble, I felt like I was walking up the grand staircase at Twelve Oaks in Gone with the Wind.
As we walked down the carpeted hallway, Mom said, “I thought it would be best to put you in your grandparents’ old suite.”
Mom eased the door open, and I was bombarded by the sunlight streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Wow, I’d forgotten about all the windows,” I remarked. Turning, I took in the intricate crown molding and peach embroidered wallpaper. “This is beautiful.” The truth was it might have been beautiful, but it was way over the top from what I was used to. I might as well have been in a 5 Star Hotel suite.
“I hope it’s not too much for you,” Mom said, eying me knowingly. “I know what you’re used to in Waco, and I thought you might not go for all this.” She motioned to the marble fireplace, Persian rugs, and antique furniture. “It’s not exactly Texas.”
“Nope, it’s not. But I can try to make do.”
Mom helped me hoist my giant suitcase onto the bed. When I unzipped the bag, the familiar scent of Big Mama’s detergent of choice, Tide, wafted up from my clothes. A pang of homesickness criss-crossed through my chest. Great, I’d been gone from home less than six hours, and already it felt like six months. How in the hell was I going to make it here any length of time? And if I had this reaction to laundry, what was going to happen when I actually talked to my dad or brothers on the phone? Ugh.
“Why don’t we put these in the bureau?” Mom suggested, picking up an armload of my clothes.
“Yeah, that’s good. I don’t think they’ll wrinkle,” I replied, as I pulled out my worn but favorite Scooby Doo stuffed animal.
Mom laughed. “Oh, I remember when you got that.” She shifted the clothes into the crook of her arm and picked up Scooby. “Your father and I took you and the boys to the Waco Fair. Nathaniel probably wasted twenty dollars trying to win this for you on that silly game where you have to guess which colored hole the rat is going to pop out of.”
