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“Okay.”
That didn’t sound ominous.
May 6– Saturday afternoon
The address of the little boy’s party is to one of those places that have an insane number of games where kids can win tickets to exchange for prizes. I’ve never really been a fan of them. The one time I went as an adult, my niece got sick, another kid was having a meltdown because he didn’t have enough tickets to win some prize, and the birthday boy was pissed because he didn’t have two cakes like his little brother did.
When I walk in, I hope no one will recognize me. I just want to get my nephew and make it out without an incident. I’m not inside the building before I hear my name being called.
An older woman with dark brown hair, dark blue eyes, a set of green bifocals, and a book in her hand flags me down from a bench in the front. This is where kids have to take off their shoes. There are a hell of a lot of colorful cubbies with abandoned shoes in them. Children are running around kicking their shoes off, while their parents run behind them putting them back.
“Hey, I heard you were in town. I can't believe I haven't seen you before now.”
When I really look at her, it's like I'm looking into an older version of Brooklyn’s face. I had forgotten how much she looked like her mother. The older Emory... I don't even know if she's still Emory or if she married again. Either way she's dressed as if she's going to some important business meeting or event. She's wearing her signature color of cream or beige with a hint of rose in the accents that she's chosen to wear. I don't know much about her because she wasn't really in Brooklyn’s life. When we were younger, Brooklyn spent the majority of her time with her grandmother. As far as I know Mrs. Emory was more interested in traveling the world than she was with spending time with her daughter.
As I look around, I wonder who she's here with. I'm here to pick up my nephew and I was told this was a 7-year old’s birthday party. A little girl whizzes by me as she continues on her way to a table filled with treats and trinkets. She looks like she’s completing ballerina turns. I catch a passing glimpse of her. It's enough to make me question what I'm seeing. The little girl looks like she's a younger version of Brooklyn. That can't be right.
“Do you have a moment?” Mrs. Emory asks me. “It's been so long since I've seen you. I would love to just have a moment to talk to another adult. It feels like it’s been forever since I've had a chance to speak to someone outside of my family. My husband is away for another week or so. My daughter ... well, she doesn't really come around anymore. It's ... been a challenging time.”
I look at my watch then around the room. It should be okay for me to take a minute. It doesn’t look like anybody’s preparing to leave so I can sit down for a few.
“Sure, I don't have to be anywhere right now. Jakob can keep playing for a little bit longer.”
“Oh, you're here to pick up Jakob. Isn't that your...?”
“My nephew.” I answer her question for her. “You would be correct. Jakob is my nephew and Macey is my niece.”
“Oh, is Macey here as well?”
She grabs her things, then starts to move further into the thick of things. I follow behind her. When I get closer, I respond to her question.
“No. If I know my niece, she probably thought she was much too old to attend a children's party. Even if it was a party for her little brother, she’d find a way to get out of it.”
As we make our way to a table, one of the few that doesn't have cupcake paper and plates or abandoned cups on it, I search the area for the little girl to see if I can get another glimpse of her. I’m not liable to find her before we take our seats. I’m not in the seat good before Mrs. Emory begins speaking again.
“Tell me how things are going. I had no idea you were in Savannah. It wasn't until I was sitting down, talking to a couple of my friends at the club, that one of them mentioned you were here. I know this isn't your hometown, but I heard you were a big fan of Savannah. Did you know the Brooklyn and I were here? Is that what brought you to town?”
I don't immediately have a response to that question. The honest answer is that I didn't come to Savannah in hopes of seeing Brooklyn. It was just a coincidence she ended up living here. I've been in love with Savannah, Georgia for many years. When GiGi, Graham, and I decided I needed a place to set up, I didn't even blink or hesitate. I knew where I wanted to be when I had downtime. I gave GiGi this spot when she stated she needed a city and state.
Georgia is my home. Now and forever.
“If I'm being honest...” I begin
What I’m about to say is cut off by the screech of a child who is being chased around not far from where we are sitting. When I look up at Mrs. Emory again, the look of complete disgust and annoyance brings a smile to my lips. This woman really hasn't changed. It makes me wonder once again who she's here with. Or even why she's here. She never struck me as the type to enjoy being around children. Like I said, she left her daughter with her mother so she could have the freedom to roam the earth however and whenever she wanted.
“Kids. Gotta love them,” she tells me.
Her words are much too sunny to be genuine or even believable. Nothing in her demeanor tells me she is a willing party to having her presence here.
“Right.” I nod while I wait for something to clue me in as to how she got here. Nothing happens. “Are you here with someone?”
Just as she opens her mouth to answer me that same little girl comes rushing over. She is a barrel of energy and love. The little girl’s voice echoes around the area as she joyfully yells.
“Pippa! Pippa, look at what I got! I can't believe I won it!”
“What, my darling girl? What did you get? Show me, show me, show me!” Pippa or Mrs. Emory reflects the same energy that the little girl is giving her.
“Oh, my goodness, look at this gorgeous bear. Oh no. Wait a moment it's not a bear, is it?”
