There was something weird about the air around him, like it was darker. A shade of blue that was almost black. I blinked, and it was gone.
The soda wine was going to my head.
“You sure?” he asked. “You look a little shaken.”
“Oh, it comes with the territory,” I said and gestured to the party, a big sweeping motion that hopefully meant something to him.
“Ah,” he said sadly. “Did you know Helen?”
“I’m her niece,” I said, and then wondered, should I have said I was her niece? But I didn’t stop being her niece just because she wasn’t here anymore, did I?
“I’m Sam,” he said, and held out his hand. “I knew your aunt. She’s mentioned you, but I don’t remember...”
“Lottie,” I said, and we shook.
“You’re still a little pale. Do you want some of this? I haven’t had any.”
He handed me the glass of water, and I took a long sip, then another, then finished it. I handed it back to him, and he laughed.
“Sorry,” I said. “How did you know her?”
“I took her class at the university. A while ago.”
Did he have an accent? A slight one, maybe. One that was hard to place.
My aunt taught one class a year at the state university. “Something to do,” she always said. “Gotta keep the ticker sharp. Stay relevant with the youths, you know.” Like she was eighty and not forty. (Only forty, the newspapers had said.Such a tragic ending to a beautifully written story.)
“You’re in college?” I asked. He didn’t look like it.
“Not exactly,” he said. “I didn’t take it for credit. I just audited.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I squatted. I wanted to hear what she had to say. Your aunt was... well, you know.”
I did know, and it made me happy that my aunt had touched so many people. Sometimes it was weird, sharing her with the public, seeing people who thought they knew her, having strangers confess their love to her, but it was all part of the bigger package. Aunt Helen was mine, but she also belonged to so many others. She could be both.
“I know,” I said.
“Can I get you some more water?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
“We could go somewhere a little quieter? I’d love to talk with you more.”
I was about to answer when Em burst through the nearest door and launched herself at me. Jackie followed her, much more calmly and supremely amused. She caught my eye and mimicked drinking.
“So I’m guessing you like that soda wine, Em?” I asked, detaching her from my hair.
“It tastes like bubbles,” she said, giggling. She saw Sam and stuck her hand out, jabbing him in the stomach. “Oops! Sorry!”
“It’s okay. I’m Sam.”
“I’m Em! Our names are both one syllable, and they both end inm. End inm! That sounds funny. End inm. Jackie, say it.”
“I think it will be a little less funny when I say it,” Jackie said, stroking Em’s hair.
“Wait—does every name end with anm? I can’t thinkof a single name that doesn’t end with anm,” Em said seriously, frowning.
