I almost didn’t have the chance to go to the potty, that’s how quick Aunt Odie ran me out of my sleeping house, all quiet.
I’m surprised she let me change out of my jammies.
Shorts.
T-shirt.
Pulled my way-too-curly hair back in a ponytail in my bathroom. I could hear Aunt Odie way off in another part of our home.
“Closed-toe shoes, girly. No flip-flops today.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. I hip-hopped down the hall, slipping on my tennies. Past the family portraits of the Messengers way on back to black-and-white and grainy sepia.
“I tell you,” Aunt Odie said as we went outside. The weather held a full house as far as humidity was concerned. I tried to shrug away from the suffocating feeling. Impossible. “We got us a morning storm on its way.”
I glanced at the sky. Clouds, dark and threatening, swirled everywhere. The air dripped moisture. The grass was so damp the dew made my shoes wet, then my toes, straight through the canvas.
“Shoulda let me wear flip-flops,” I said.
Across the street I eyed Buddy McKay’s house. He is the cutest thing in all a New Smyrna Beach.
And nasty, too. In a really cute sorta way.
Tried to kiss me the day I moved in this here place just over a year ago.
I sighed, remembering. Then sighed again.
I’d almost let him. His hand warm on my arm. His breath all peppermint.
“Closed toes for today.” Aunt Odie unlocked the car from where she balanced on one foot on the front porch. Like she was a huge flamingo. One wearing a perm. The petunias smelled the yard up. The magnolias, both fat with blossoms, kept their flowers and fragrance all closed up.
“Get on in there,” she said. “You know my corns slow me.”
I did. “Ooooeee,” I said, fastening the seat belt and making sure it was snug but not snug enough to choke the life out of me. “Something smells good.” My stomach rumbled, agreeing.
A picnic basket sat at my feet.
Fifteen.
I leaned my head back on the soft leather of the Cadillac.
Closed my eyes.
Breathed deep the smell of breakfast.
“See your own future,” I said. I used the most commanding voice I have. “What lies ahead for you, Evie Montgomery Messenger?”
I needed to make my family proud or just be done with it, which I knew might prove easier.
But there was no future. All I saw was the back of my eyelids.