I woke to an empty bed and sat up, looking around in confusion. Amelia’s overnight bag was open on my vanity, mostly empty. The light coming in through the window showed that it was already late in the morning, and a glance at the clock confirmed it. I would need to hurry if I wanted to be ready for Aunt Kate’s early dinner. I stood up and stretched, then pulled on my heavier bathrobe. It was finally beginning to seem cold, and Aunt Kate always forgot about turning on the heat. We rarely needed it for many days in a row, even in the winter, so we often went without.
Jim greeted me in the living room. He was sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper, alone. Confused, I walked into the empty kitchen, wondering where my Aunt Kate and Amelia had gotten off to. I caught a glimpse of movement outside and saw them both sitting on the patio by the fishpond. They were hunched up next to each other, obviously in deep discussion. Not knowing if I should interrupt, I finally decided to take a shower and get ready. If they had a tête-à-tête, maybe Amelia could begin to help Aunt Kate get over her reservations about her.
I showered quickly, massaging my sore shoulder under the hot water. I spotted several finger-shaped bruises on my forearm, and my mouth was still a little red around the edges from Sara’s hand. When I came out of the bathroom, Amelia and Aunt Kate were still talking outside. Starting to feel a little alarmed, I dressed quickly, wearing long sleeves and putting a little makeup around my mouth to cover the bruises and scrapes. By the time I came into the kitchen, they were both standing by the stove looking at the boiling cabbage. They turned and smiled at me.
“So sleepyhead finally decided to join us!” Aunt Kate said. She shook her head ruefully. “It’s too late for you to eat breakfast now, sweetie. Dinner is in less than an hour. Maybe you could have some toast to tide you over.” She pointed at the last of the breakfast baguette on the table.
“I’m fine. I just need some coffee.”
Aunt Kate tsked but pulled out the little saucepan to heat up the milk while I got the coffee concentrate out of the fridge. As we waited for the milk to warm, Aunt Kate and Amelia chatted about the differences between Creole and Cajun cooking. They seemed relaxed, though not particularly warm. Ever since we started working together, I’d seen that Amelia was very good at finding topics for others to talk about in order to put them at ease, and it appeared she’d found one for Aunt Kate: food. Despite being a native, and a frequent restaurant patron, Amelia was completely ignorant of the differences in the local cuisine. Aunt Kate was more than happy to fill her in, explaining that our ancestry was French Creole, which was how she’d learned all her recipes. Amelia threw me a bemused look a couple of times as Aunt Kate lectured, but I was happy they’d found something to talk about. Kate was making Pompano en Papillote, and she had several loaves of bread baking in the second oven—one for each guest. We would also be eating several different kinds of cabbage salad, snails, oysters, and, in the one nod to American tradition, a spicy, candied sweet-potato casserole with cranberry garnish.
Meghan and Zach let themselves in, carrying two pies, a couple of grocery bags, and several bottles of wine. “I brought the most important part of the meal!” Meghan called, holding up the booze.
“Speak for yourself, missy,” Aunt Kate said, sniffing with hurt pride.
Meghan laughed and put down her bags before giving her a quick hug. “You know I’m joking, Aunt Kate. Your food’s always so delicious.” She turned and rustled around in one of her bags, pulling out some fresh flowers. “These are for you.” Meghan offered them to Kate as a peace token.
Aunt Kate seemed mollified and took the flowers over to the sink. As she ran them under the water, she turned and pointed at the table. “Meghan, you and Chloé should set the table. Zach, you open the wine. Amelia and I’ll start getting everything together and in the serving bowls once I’m done with the flowers.”
Twenty minutes later, we were all seated at the table, the food covered to keep it warm. Aunt Kate and Jim sat at opposite ends of the small dining-room table, and Meghan and I sat on one side together, across from Zach and Amelia. The setting was intimate and friendly and boded well for future holidays.
Aunt Kate held up her wineglass. “We’re not a praying family. My parents stopped going to Mass when my sister and I were little. Still, the tradition in our household has always been to greet Thanksgiving with thankfulness. I am thankful this year for the return of my wayward niece and for the new man in my life. It’s been a wonderful year.”
“I’m thankful for the man in my life,” Meghan said, looking at Zach. “And I’m also thankful that Chloé’s returned to us.”
“I’m thankful to be home,” I said, “and I’m thankful for you, Amelia.”
“And I you,” she said quietly.
“I’m thankful I took another chance on women,” Jim said, and everyone laughed. “Just so you know, you’re never too old to find love.”
“I’m thankful to have found such a wonderful, funny, gorgeous woman with such a lovely group of friends,” Zach said. “And I’m thankful for this spread of food, too.”
We all agreed and dug in.
*
After dinner, we decided that a walk would help us feel a little less sloth-like and a little more human, so we went over to the new Crescent Park on the river. The views of downtown were spectacular, and since Amelia had never been here before, it was a treat to see her enjoy it so thoroughly. One positive outcome of Hurricane Katrina was the city’s now-greater emphasis on urban beautification, and this park was part of that process. In the early days of the park, the neighbors had worried it would drive up nearby rents, and with some cause. The park’s development had coincided with an influx of wealthier, younger renters, and almost the entire neighborhood had become more expensive. My aunt took this all in stride, however, as it meant that her property would bring a higher price when she was ready to sell, and crime had significantly decreased in the last couple of years. I’d been dreading the erasure of the rag-tag, rougher edges that had existed in the Bywater before this and could already see that gentrification was well on its way. Still, I appreciated that change could be a positive force, too. This park was an obvious example.
We climbed over the crescent-shaped bridge and walked along the short river walkway, all of us voicing the hope that it would someday link up with the Riverwalk, making one long pathway along the edge of the Mississippi all the way downtown. The day wasn’t quite cold enough to make us uncomfortable, but we found it a little chillier closer to the river. Aunt Kate began complaining that she hadn’t dressed warmly enough, so we turned around to go back home.
As we headed back toward our house, Amelia’s phone rang, and she fell back a little to answer it after excusing herself. Meghan took the opportunity to pull me aside, a little apart from Aunt Kate.
“I’ve been dying to ask you about last night,” she hissed. “I realize you don’t want to talk about it in front of Aunt Kate, so now’s the chance. What happened?”
Without revealing that Sara was associated with Amelia, I told her the story of my bathroom assault. When I finished, Meghan’s eyes were huge.
“Jesus! She sounds like a complete nutcase! Do you think there’s a reason she chose you?”
“Yes, but I can’t get into that right now.”
Meghan looked puzzled, but as we were near the house again, she didn’t push me to say more. I was hoping I could avoid details altogether, as the idea of identifying Sara was a little daunting, particularly as it seemed Meghan and Amelia were really beginning to get along now.
I glanced back just in time to see Amelia hang up the phone and thought I saw a guilty look dart across her face when she saw me looking at her. She walked faster to catch up.
“Who was that?” I asked.
“Just work,” she said, not meeting my eyes.
We all went back inside, Aunt Kate and Meghan excusing themselves to get the pie and coffee ready. As we waited, Amelia managed to coax Jim to open up about the construction business, and he talked more than I’d ever heard before. Zach was wrapped up in his smart phone, clearly avoiding an awkward conversation, so I sat nearby, quietly, my mind far away. The phone call Amelia had answered troubled me. She’d seemed strange about it for a few minutes afterward and had clearly been lying to me about whomever she was talking to. I was worried Sara had called her but didn’t know if I could get Amelia to admit it. It disconcerted me that she might be lying to me. She was likely trying to protect me, but I hated the idea of her deception.
I returned to awareness when Amelia touched my arm. “So how about it?”
“What?” I asked.
She laughed. “You must have been thinking hard about something. Jim here has been praising your artwork. I just told him I haven’t seen any of it yet. So how about it? Want to show it to me now?”
“No!” I said, then blushed at her shocked expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”
Amelia was still clearly taken aback. “Why on earth not?”
Something about showing her my artwork terrified me, and I wasn’t entirely sure I could explain—to either her or me—why that was.
Embarrassed, I was relieved not to have to explain myself, as Meghan and Aunt Kate reappeared then, carrying plates of pie and a tray of coffee. Amelia looked at me strangely a couple of times as we ate, but I couldn’t think of anything to say to make up for my awkwardness earlier. I squeezed her hand, hoping she would drop the subject, and she eventually did.