“Oh, Phil, you’re the spitting image of your mama when she was your age.”
Aunt Delphine gushed all over Nestor. “Mwah, mwah,” she said with each kiss she planted on his pale face.
“Yuck. Go away.” Nestor rubbed his face with the back of his hand and tried to wipe off the red lip prints. With each kiss, her lips got paler and Nestor’s face got redder. “Yuck. I’m not Phil. Go kiss him.”
I guess the whole scene would have been funny if it weren’t so weird. Roly-poly mama bear squeezed poor Nestor until his eyes bulged in his head.
I decided to put a stop to the craziness. “Aunt Delphine, I’m Phil.”
“Of course you are,” Aunt Delphine walked toward me with her hands cupped, ready to grab my face. I did some fast thinking. I wrapped her in a big hug, pinning her arms at her sides, and for good measure, leaned down and put my head on her shoulder. I knew if I stayed like this, she couldn’t do the kiss torture.
Truth is, I wouldn’t have known them either. Aunt Delphine had this bleached-out, curly blond hair, big blue eyes, and a ton of makeup. She must have given up eating healthy ‘cause here she was, looking like she had swallowed a watermelon and was ready for another one.
Uncle Antoine was a head shorter and one full person skinnier than my aunt. Orange-red hair with a patent-leather gel slick-back. Embroidered black shirt. Blue jeans. Black cowboy boots.
They sure didn’t look like anyone in my family—or anyone in my neighborhood either.
“Howdy, Phil.” Uncle Antoine shook my hand. “Please excuse your aunt. She’s not right in the head.” He held up the pointer finger of his right hand and made little circles next to his right temple.
“Don’t you go listening to him. It’s just that you look different, that’s all. My eyes aren’t what they used to be. Practically grown up, with shoulders like a football player.”
“Both of you look different, too. I know it was a really old photo I saw of you on your wedding day, and I know it’s all wrinkled—”
“Did you just say Ah look all wrinkled?”
“No, Aunt Delphine, I said the photo I saw is wrinkled.”
“Don’t you insult us, young man. Don’t you Yankee boys have any manners? We got old, that’s all. Look, you made your aunt cry,” Uncle Antoine scolded.
Aunt Delphine wiped her tears. “Are you saying Ah’m not still pretty?”
“No, I’m not saying that at all. Of course, you’re still pretty.” I lied.
“Well, now that we got that settled, why don’t you boys do some sightseeing? Angel will drop you off and be back for you at five. Dinner’s at six.”
Angel? Of all the names I could call that guy, Angel wouldn’t be one of them.
“I was hoping you and Uncle Antoine would come with us.”
“Can’t do that,” Uncle Antoine said. “Your aunt’s not feeling well.”
“I thought Aunt Delphine was taking you to the doctor.”
“Now, where did you get an idea like that?”
“That’s what Angel told us.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” Uncle Antoine gave Angel a hard look.
“Maybe I made a mistake. You’re going sightseeing, and it doesn’t matter where anybody else is going. Get in the car.”
I looked at Nestor. His head swiveled back and forth like he was watching a tennis match. Right. Left, right. Left. Didn’t say a word, but his face told the story.
I was confused, too. What kind of family acts this way? “We have to call home to let our parents know we’re OK, but Angel took our phones. We didn’t get any phone service last night. Can we have them back so we can try again?” I asked.
“No,” Uncle Antoine snapped. “Yo’ auntie don’t believe in cell phones. They give you brain cancer.”
“Can we use the house phone, then?”
“We don’t have one. Ah’ll call your mama and tell her you’re both here. She can call over at your friend’s house to relay the message.” Aunt Delphine was impatient.
Nestor spoke up. “What are you going to use to call?”
“My cell phone, of course,” Aunt Delphine said.
“But I thought you said they give you brain cancer?” I asked.
“Ah said they give you brain cancer.”
Uncle Antoine made the little circles next to his temple with his pointer finger, and then pointed to Aunt Delphine.
“You promise you’ll call for us?” I had no reason not to trust her.
“Ah promise. You boys have fun and don’t worry about a thing.”
Angel was outside waiting for us in a shiny, black Mercedes Benz. “What happened to the car you drove yesterday?”
“Ah sold it.”
“Overnight?”
“Again with the questions?”