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twenty-seven
Even though Tabitha had spent the day shopping with Lily for clothes for tonight’s Christmas Eve party-fundraiser at Pittie Place, Tabitha was still in loungewear come six o’clock. Auntie El had been struggling with the different meds the doctors had prescribed—the antidepressants making her flat as a robot and the sleep meds making her dopey and not at all rested. By evening, Auntie El was in her robe, parked in the reclining lounger in front of the living room television. She stared at a sitcom, eyes bleary, face unsmiling.
“I was wondering,” Tabitha said, lotion in hand, “if I could do your feet.”
Auntie El shifted her gaze, the sitcom reflected in the lenses of her glasses. Everyone was laughing and smiling. “Don’t you have a party?” She waved her hand. “Go. Leave this old lady to her misery.”
Tabitha sighed, torn for a moment, before she finally went to the light dimmer switch on the wall and turned the lamp down to a soft glow. Hadn’t she decided a long time ago that if she wanted to be a badass she was going to have to make it happen and stop waiting for magic? She pulled the ottoman over to the edge of the recliner, then sat down and removed Auntie El’s slippers. Just because she’d destroyed her Badass List, and just because she’d been moping around about her fight with Hobbs for days, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to finish what she’d started.Help Auntie Elwas the only unchecked box on that list and Tabitha was not going to watch the only mother she’d ever known suffer just because Hobbs had ruined everything.
“This isn’t necessary,” Auntie El said, but she didn’t pull away, either.
Tabitha started in on her work, her mind on Hobbs and everything that had happened. After the initial anger and shock had worn off, Tabitha was left feeling everything that was really there, underneath it all. She wasn’t sure what he’d thought her reaction might be, that she might recoil or turn away—or worse, maybe Hobbs had thought she’d feel sorry for him—but in truth, her only reaction had been to want to know more. She could almost hear how Red would analyze this:You know that Hobbs lashed out at you. He said some mean things out of anger. But what’s really going on? What’s the real source of his pain?
As the days passed, Tabitha let go of her anger, as much as she could. She’d obviously got deep inside, down into some things that hadn’t been stirred up in a long time. These were things that weren’t going to heal overnight. Tabitha understood that. But the longer she thought about it, the more she realized that Hobbs’s outburst hadn’t pushed her away, like maybe he’d hoped. Now she only wanted to learn more. To maybe be that person whoknew. Tabitha knew from experience that sometimes you didn’t need or want opinions or sympathy for the difficult things. Sometimes you just wanted someone to know. If someone else knew, the load wasn’t so heavy anymore. If someone else knew, the bad stuff wasn’t hidden away, festering—it was out in the open, with twice as much medicine ready to help the healing.
“Is Thaddeus going to be at this party?” Auntie El’s voice got a little dreamy, like maybe she was enjoying the massage.
“I’m not going to see Thaddeus anymore,” Tabitha said. “He said some things I didn’t like about Trinity.”
Silence passed, and then Auntie El said, “What a shame. He seemed so nice.”
“Appearances can be deceiving.”
After more silence, Auntie El’s voice came even softer, like she was starting to drift. “There’s somebody, though. Somebody you wanted to see at this party. I can tell. You can’t fool your mama.”
Tabitha paused her work for a second. Auntie El rarely used the wordmama, even though that was exactly what she’d been to Tabitha all of her life. Tabitha had always called her Auntie El, just like the foster kids, withmamareserved for special occasions. The last time she’d heard it was when she’d come home from Afghanistan. Auntie El had met her at the airport, opened her arms and said, “Mama’s here,” and Tabitha’s head had sunk to Auntie El’s chest.
“There is somebody.” Tabitha spoke in a calm, smooth tone that matched her massage strokes. She’d come to have a pretty good routine with feet and found that her practice subjects lost their tension quite quickly once she’d started in. “But I don’t think he’s ready for something serious. He might not ever be. He’s got a bad past.”
Auntie El was silent, but her foot flinched slightly. Tabitha continued as though nothing had happened, and after a while Auntie El’s voice came sleepily. “If he’s got a bad past, then he needs somebody like you,” she said. “Somebody sensitive. Somebody with patience and a light touch. You know? You need to go to that party. Tell him to stop being a fool.”
Tabitha let Auntie El’s words settle around her, like the snowflakes that were pattering on the roof. Then she went quiet and stayed quiet, massaging with methodical strokes and a clear mind. She let herself go, not thinking about Hobbs or anyone but Auntie El and how much she’d been suffering these past months. The air in the room changed as time passed. The television still ran on low volume and Trinity was still asleep on the couch, on the one corner cushion where she was allowed. But there was an unseen shift in the room by the time Tabitha had finished with the second foot and she knew that Auntie El had fallen asleep.
Tabitha rose quietly, collected the throw from the corner of the sofa and draped it over Auntie El’s snoozing body. Her glasses had slipped to the end of her nose and a soft snore escaped her lips. Tabitha smiled and headed upstairs. In her bedroom she glanced at the clock on the nightstand and thought about turning in early. The party would be in full swing and Tabitha wasn’t really in the mood. She should probably hang around and make sure Auntie El stayed asleep, anyway. This was the first night she’d nodded off at a decent hour in months and Tabitha needed to watch over her.
As she headed for the bathroom, ready for a shower and then bed, something glittery in the corner of the closet caught her eye.
The ruby-red slippers.
Tabitha stared at the shoes and remembered Hobbs’s words on Halloween.You got the kicks.You want to make a wish, just click your heels three times and it’s all yours, baby.
She smiled. Even when he wasn’t here, Hobbs could still make her smile. She realized, in that moment, that Hobbs’s clown act wasn’t just an act. There was a part of that boisterous, happy demeanor that was all his, wasn’t just a cover-up for the pain, but was also a remnant of the person he truly was without all the bad things weighing him down.
Tabitha’s gaze shifted to the bag of clothing, unopened, at the end of her bed. Lily had spent half the day shopping with her to find the perfect party outfit. Auntie El had told Tabitha that she should go. What was she waiting for?
“Wow.” Lily’s eyes widened as they pulled into the parking lot of Pittie Place. “It looks like the inside of a giant snow globe.”
Clementine silently agreed. The monster-sized pine wreath that hung on the Pittie Place sign leading to the entrance should’ve been her first clue that Sunny pulled out all the stops at Christmastime. As Clementine angled into one of the few remaining spots left, she had to remind herself to keep her eyes on the road until she killed the engine. She didn’t let herself fully take in the decor until she’d safely exited the vehicle.
She and Lily both stood there, staring at the sparkling white lights tastefully wound around the enormous pine trees that flanked the long, winding drive. There were oversized pink and silver balls in the branches and a matching garland that sparkled in the dark night sky. The moon was a thin crescent peeking behind the Queen Anne roof, the turrets giving the house a fairy-tale vibe. As they headed up the drive and got closer to the dwelling, Clementine could see as much care had been taken on the home as the surrounding trees. There was an electric candle in each window, as well as a wreath with a bright red bow.
“She does all this herself,” Lily said as they reached the front door. “Well, Pete helps her, but...” Lily shrugged. “She told me the other day, when she was at the shelter, that she uses the same decorations every year until they fall apart. She was pretty proud of what she accomplishes with old decorations.” Lily looked older than her sixteen years in the party outfit she’d chosen—black, shiny leggings that looked like leather, matching black boots with little bows on the top and a slinky red top that hung off one shoulder and accentuated her long lines. Her lipstick matched the hue of the blouse and the small amount of eye makeup she’d worn made her hazel eyes pop. She’d styled her cinnamon-colored hair with a curling iron, giving it just enough wave to look like a movie star’s.
“Sounds like Sunny,” Clementine said, feeling a little old next to her knockout daughter. Lily was gorgeous on an average day, just climbing out of bed. The clothes and makeup kicked her up a notch, making her hard to look away from. Clementine smoothed out the “ugly sweater” dress she’d worn, a red-and-black gingham that was kind of loud, if not quite ugly. Made of a light nylon/poly blend, it wasn’t really a sweater at all, and clung a little more to her curves than she’d expected from the picture in the online shop.
“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d come to the mall with me and Tabitha and actually tried on a dress,” Lily had pointed out, when Clementine had come out of her room and complained over the clinginess. “But you look great, Mom. You work out all the darn time—you might as well show it off.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Clementine had checked herself out in the hallway mirror. “But does it look like I’m advertising? I don’t want to look like I’m advertising.”
