Momma, JimDaddy, and Baby Lucy were right there, on the porch, waiting for us.
All smiles.
“Well?” Momma said, eyebrows raised.
“Didn’t go so great,” I said.
“Later,” Aunt Odie said.
“Now hold on,” Momma said. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” I said, “Paulie didn’t see nothing.”
JimDaddy watched us with an almost interest. Baby Lucy teethed on a wrapped present.
“And I said later,” Aunt Odie said.
“Nothing?” Momma said.
“Nothing,” I said.
“This is talk for when we are alone.” Aunt Odie said the words all serious and Momma didn’t question again. Instead, she hesitated then grabbed me in a hug. Smiled bright enough to light up a room. “Now don’t you worry.”
“I’m not.” Oddball. Though I was. Aunt Odie seemed near to having a conniption.
Momma kissed the side of my head. “Now lookit. Not everyone gets this.”
“The Messenger women do,” I said. “That’s why we don’t change our names at marriage.”
What could Momma say to that?
Or JimDaddy, who didn’t argue even a second when Momma told him our family rules.
What would Buddy say about that? I let out a nervous giggle at that random thought.
“This. Is. A. Conversation. For. Later. On.”
But Momma, who loves Aunt Odie more than I do, said, “We knew she wasn’t getting any signs something was coming.” Momma whispered like I wasn’t standing right there. “Not like the rest of us.”
Aunt Odie flopped in an Adirondack and set to fanning herself with the skirt of her dress. “What does it matter what I say?”
“So,” JimDaddy said. “Let’s get on with this.” He thrust Baby Lucy, her hair hanging in tiny curls though she isn’t even nine months old, into my arms. “She’s been waiting on you, Evie.”
“See what she got you,” Momma said, her arm still around my shoulder.
I grinned. “Okay.”
Aunt Odie was three shades paler. Sweating, too. (Even though she is a big girl, my aunt never sweats. Not even on a baking day when you could roast meat outside. Or in.)
“You okay?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Then my present,” JimDaddy said.
Gift. Shmift. Ffift.
He placed a kiss on my forehead. His hands shook and his lips were dry. Momma patted at my arm.
Had they slept right through that storm?
Water stood in the front yard. The petunias looked soggy.
Across the street at Buddy’s place, there wasn’t anyone even moving. Not that I could see, I mean.
Momma, her face changing from worried to excited, said, “Mine last of all.”
Baby Lucy held a cell phone and JimDaddy had two cases for me plus a gift card to Wet Seal.
Momma jumped a little, bursting to give me her news. “A party.” She danced me around in a tight circle on the porch. JimDaddy stared off across the yard. His hair caught the sun, making it look more blond than normal. Baby Lucy bounced around in my arms. I pulled a bit of damp cardboard from her mouth. She grinned at me. Would she be an oddball too? Or keep red ants and other pests far from our yards and homes?
I said, “A party?” What I wanted to say was, Who will I invite? when Momma said, “I done sent everything out. Plus got back the RSVPs. You have five people visiting this evening, so I thought we could get you over to Aunt Carol’s place and let her give you a makeover.”
Momma folded her hands under her chin like she had finished praying.
“But Momma,” I said, ’cause she and I hadn’t been here long enough for me to have one friend, much less five. Me and Momma moved in with JimDaddy right before Baby Lucy was born. This change of venue shoved me to a brand-new high school. Left my old friends behind. Another scary reason to back off higher education. Who could be coming? My stomach frumphed at the thought.
“You love it?” Momma asked. “You love your presents?”
Momma and Aunt Odie looked at me, the baby too. Talk about three peas in a pod. I said, “Yes, ma’am, you know I do.”
Then we all jumped all over the porch, this way and that, while Aunt Odie panted and fanned, hair moving like it breathed.