Augusta had been left alone, an occurrence almost as rare as a Halley’s Comet sighting. A few minutes after Victoria had taken off, Madelyn said she’d be right back, using her sudden time off to go to the supermarket. Plenty of time for Augusta to find some kind of trouble to get into. What fun might she be able to have without the others there to witness?
Dancing seemed like a good idea. She didn’t need any music, the drumbeat sounding in her head. The balls of her bare feet first struck the ground timidly, but the movement felt good. So she tapped again, switching feet, faster and faster until nearly galloping. Soon, she’d added her shoulders, and then her belly, and she was fifteen years old again, front and center in the performance of her Afro-Haitian dance troupe, parents watching from the second row. She caught a glimpse of herself in the window, her elbows arched back, feet bent in extremes—nothing but pointed or in full flex. Her ribs led any sort of body gyrations, not the hips. It seemed like the drums were just a few feet away, a rhythmic thwack on wood.
“Oooh, get it, Nana.”
Augusta recoiled, almost tripping over herself, shocked to hear Willow’s voice. In the foyer, her granddaughter slapped her palms onto the small oak console next to the coatrack. Her luggage sat on the floor next to her.
Willow smiled before putting her hands over her mouth, eyes crinkling. “It’s so good to see you, Nana.” She ran to Augusta and wrapped her arms around her. Her granddaughter held her so tightly that Augusta had to shimmy her shoulders to get Willow to loosen her grip.
“I’m sorry, Nan.” When she stepped back, Willow’s eyes were damp, though she kept grinning, a little too hard. “Where is everyone? Is Victoria in a session? I didn’t see her car.”
Augusta turned her thumb upside down and pointed it to the floor.
“You here alone, Nana?”
She flipped her thumb the other way.
“Well, I’m here now. So it’s a party!”
Willow’s face had thinned, her skin sallow. She looked around the room, taking it in as if there for the first time. Her arrival was a pleasant surprise, but Augusta couldn’t help but be curious why she was back. Had January died?
She followed Willow up the stairs as she dragged a suitcase, then down and up again for the second one and a backpack. In her bedroom, Willow talked herself tired about her regulars at the bar where she worked and her philanderer of a boss and the game on her phone that she played for hours.
The girl still hadn’t said a word about January, though if he were dead, Augusta would have been able to tell. One couldn’t fake her way out of that kind of grief, the heaviness of missing someone and the guilt that you caused them to be gone.
Augusta covered Willow up with a blanket and then lay down beside her, glad to have her granddaughter back. She and Victoria were so unalike, but they complemented one another, needed each other. After all this time apart, she hoped the two of them would finally figure that out.