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“It’s that girlfriend a Ethan’s. That pretty Ravenwood gal. The one who always has her nose in a book, like Lila Jane.”
“That’s right. You know me, Aunt Mercy. I’m Ethan’s girlfriend, ma’am.” It was the same thing I said every time I came over.
Aunt Mercy harrumphed. “Well, what if it is? What’re ya doin’ around here now that Ethan’s gone and passed on ta one world or another?”
Amma froze in the kitchen doorway. “Come again?”
Thelma didn’t look up from her needlepoint.
“You heard me, Miss Amma,” Aunt Mercy said.
“Wh-what?” I stammered.
“What are you talking about?” Link could barely speak.
“You know about Ethan? How?” I leaned forward in my chair.
“You think we don’t catch a thing or two ’bout what’s goin’ on around here? Wasn’t born yesterday, and we’re smarter than y’all think. We know plenty ’bout the Casters, same as we do weather patterns and dress patterns and traffic patterns….” Aunt Grace wadded up her handkerchief, her voice trailing off.
“And the peach stand seasons.” Aunt Mercy looked proud.
“A storm cloud’s a storm cloud. This one’s been workin’ its way through the sky for a long time now. Near ’bout all our lives.” Aunt Grace nodded at her sister.
“Seems to me any right-minded person would try to keep outta a storm like that,” Amma bristled, tucking the edge of the blanket around Aunt Grace’s legs.
“We didn’t know you knew,” I said.
“Lord have mercy, you’re as bad as Prudence Jane. She
thought we didn’t have a clue between us ’bout her traipsin’ all over underneath the County and back. Like we didn’t know our daddy picked her ta keep the map. Like we didn’t tell him ourselves ta pick Prudence Jane. Always thought she was the one with the steadiest hand outta all three a us.” Aunt Mercy laughed.
“Sweet Redeemer, Mercy Lynne, you know our daddy woulda picked me ’fore he picked you. I only told him ta ask you on account a I didn’t like my hair all curled up, the way it got in the Underground. Looked like a porkypine with a bad permanent, I swear.” Aunt Grace shook her head.
Mercy sniffed. “You do swear, Grace Ann, and I’m the only one who knows it.”
“You take that back.” Aunt Grace pointed a bony finger at her sister.
“I will not.”
“Please, ma’am. Ma’ams.” What was the plural of ma’am? “We need your help. We’re looking for Abraham Ravenwood. He has something of ours, something important.” I looked from one Sister to the other.
“We need it ta—” Link corrected himself. “To bring Ethan home, lickety-split.” If you hung around the Sisters long enough, you started talking like them.
I rolled my eyes.
“What’re you fussin’ ’bout?” Aunt Grace waved her handkerchief.
Aunt Mercy sniffed again. “Sounds like more Caster nonsense ta me.”
Amma raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you catch us all up? Seein’ as how we all love nonsense the way we do.”
Link and I looked at each other. It was going to be a long night.
Caster nonsense or not, once Amma dragged out the Sisters’ scrapbooks, wheels began turning and mouths started moving. At first Amma couldn’t bear to hear the mention of Abraham Ravenwood’s name, but Link kept talking.
And talking, and talking.
Still, Amma didn’t stop him, which seemed like half a victory. Though talking to the Sisters themselves didn’t seem anything like the other half of one.
