Page 52 of Becoming Family

eighteen

As long as you live keep learning how to live.

~Seneca

There were a few stark moments in Tabitha’s life where this mindset had saved her life. Waking on Thanksgiving Day to a cold, empty kitchen might not be one of them, but it sure felt like it. Normally Auntie El spent the entire morning spinning like a tornado from counter to counter, stove to sink to microwave. By noon, the table would be set with her old bone-white china and the food spread buffet style on the island. There would be turkey and ham sliced in mounds on platters; a pile of collard greens, braised for hours and shining in the pot liquor inside the peach-colored Dutch oven; fluffy mashed potatoes, like pillowy clouds fallen from the sky; poor man’s brioche, warm and sliced thick as Texas toast; boats of gravy on either end of the table; and roasted, charred sweet potatoes, earthy chunks seasoned with turmeric and garlic—a far cry from that horrid mess of orange slop coated in melted marshmallows.

There was none of that. No food. No heavenly aromas. No Auntie El.

“Oh, no.” Tabitha froze. Guests were coming at noon.

Auntie El would never let this happen.

Unless...

Tabitha rushed to Auntie El’s bedroom, Trinity at her heels. She pushed open the door, allowing the morning sunlight to spill over the bed. Auntie El was a motionless mound beneath the covers. Tabitha crossed the room and laid her hand on Auntie El’s shoulder. A tightly held breath escaped Tabitha’s lungs. Auntie El was still warm and her shoulder rose and fell gently beneath Tabitha’s touch. She mumbled something in her sleep.

Tabitha leaned in closer and closed her eyes. It sounded like she whispered,Casey, but Tabitha couldn’t be sure. With her eyes shut and her hand still on Auntie El’s shoulder, she could feel Auntie’s fatigue like a thick wave. This was a paralyzing, desperate sleep. Auntie El’s body wanted to heal, to snatch whatever time it could under precious, stolen slumber.

Thanksgiving dinner wasn’t going to be cooked on time whether Tabitha woke Auntie El or not. Guests would be here in two hours and nothing cooked that fast. Tabitha drew the covers over Auntie El’s shoulder and backed out of the room. She closed the door as quietly as she could, even though it didn’t seem likely that anything would wake Auntie El right now.

She went back to the kitchen and went about various tasks, such as feeding Trinity, starting the coffee and going to the end of the driveway to grab the paper. Back inside, she laid out Auntie El’s crossword puzzle so she’d have it when she woke. Then she faced the empty kitchen again and tried to decide what to do.

How selfish she’d been, sleeping in and thinking she would only offer the same contribution she made every Thanksgiving: wake on her own time, stir the gravy and wash the dishes. Tabitha had known Auntie El wasn’t her old self and yet she’d still been sunk neck-deep into her own problems. She’d spent the week studying for finals, finishing up her massage exchange records and working at the bike shop, not once spending any time on what she’d put at the top of her Badass List:Help Auntie El.

And now it was too late. At least there wasn’t a big crowd coming.

But peoplewerecoming, and the best way Tabitha could help Auntie El right now was by making sure they ate something.

“One badass dinner, coming up,” Tabitha muttered. The next hour was a hot blur as Tabitha cranked up the dual ovens and pored over recipes online. She could still cook the turkey and heat the ham—they just wouldn’t be done at noon. When people came at twelve, they’d just have to eat something else. Tabitha pulled cheese and butter from the fridge and grabbed a loaf of Auntie El’s brioche. Thank God Auntie El always made the bread and pies the day before. Tabitha sliced up the loaf, softened butter in the microwave and layered squares of Havarti and provolone on the bread.

Thanksgiving grilled cheese was a thing, right?

Nobody would care as long as there was pie, right?

Just as Tabitha finished layering the last sandwich, the doorbell rang.

“There’s my angel,” Reverend Stokes said after Tabitha had whipped open the door, smoothed out her clothing and tried not to look frantic. “Happy Thanksgiving.” He collected her in a hug, just inside the foyer. As he pulled back, his eyes narrowed in concern. “What’s wrong?”

Tabitha invited him inside, settled him at the table with a glass of white wine and spilled her guts about her concerns over Auntie El. Reverend Stokes listened in silence as Tabitha finished tidying up the kitchen.

“She asked me not to say anything,” Reverend Stokes said after Tabitha went quiet. “But Lavina did go to the doctor.”

“And?” Tabitha removed her dirty apron and hung it inside the pantry door. “What’d they say?”

“They just don’t know.” Reverend Stokes shrugged. “She’s fatigued. Sore all over. Moving slowly. They ran a blood panel, and other than slightly high sugar, there’s nothing they can see that’s wrong.”

“High sugar?”

“They gave her meds and a diet to follow. I think they gave her some sleep meds, too. Maybe she took one last night.”

“But they don’t know what’s wrong?” Tabitha pressed. “Are you sure Auntie El is telling you everything? Why didn’t she tell me?”

Reverend Stokes laughed a little. “She’s a private woman for sure. But she seemed sincere. And she doesn’t want you worrying. Said you have enough to worry about in your own life.”

“She’s part of my life. A big part.”

“She’s your mother. Mothers don’t want their kids worrying about them.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com