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While she’s babbling away, my attention wanders. At a table on the other side of a glass partition, a group of four women have noticed me. Two of them hold their phones up, filming this rare event of catching a football player in the wild.
Scratch that.Formerfootball player.
I don’t care if they’re filming but I wonder if people understand how goofy it looks when they brandish their phones like tiny shields. I wave at the other table because it’s more fun than listening to Aunt Matilda speak. They can have autographs if they ask but nothing more. I’m one hundred percent taken.
“How does that sound?” Matilda finishes her speech.
“Great.” I think I might have just agreed to something I didn’t plan to agree to. At least my fish and chips have arrived.
“This is what makes the most sense,” Matilda says. She sticks a spoon into a bowl of beige soup with a chestnut floating in the middle like a turd. “Naturally, you wouldn’t be expected to come into the office every day. All the tedious details of management and contract negotiation would not be your responsibility. Your position will be absolutely stress free.”
I think I’ve just been told not to worry my pretty little head about business. I chew on that idea while I chew on my fish and chips. They could use some ketchup.
Alta has checked out of the conversation completely and scrolls through her phone.
“You mean all I’ll have to do is show up at company events once in a while so everyone can see that your famous nephew is part of the team?”
“Yes!” Matilda is pleased that I understand.
It’s not the most outrageous proposal in the world. But suddenly I’m sick of the way my cousins and I were raised in a family that ignores its scandals and neglects its skeletons.
Or maybe I’m just in the mood to be an asshole.
In any case, I choose this moment to say, “So what was my mother’s job description when she worked for you all those years? I was never sure.”
Now I’ve done it. I’ve mentioned the unmentionable. There are many such topics in our family but Edie sits at the top of the Do Not Discuss list.
Alta perks up and sets down her phone. She waits for a reaction from her only remaining sister.
Matilda drops her spoon into her beige soup and then shifts her eyes in search of someone or something to rescue her from the memory of Edie.
“Oh, I have to take this call,” she says, snatching up a phone that never made a sound. “I won’t be but a minute.”
She flees with impressive speed. Alta and I are left behind to enjoy the awkward silence.
Gage’s mother finally sighs. “If evading the past were an Olympic sport my sister would undoubtedly earn gold.”
“Are you any better?” I sound snotty. I don’t care.
Alta shrugs. “I suppose not. Just ask my son.”
The marriage between Gage’s parents was ugly and dysfunctional. The two of them constantly used him as a pawn. For years, Gage and his mother didn’t speak at all. Even now that they are on somewhat polite terms he remains wary of her.
“It’s a little harder for me than it is for the two of you to pretend that my mother never existed.”
To her credit, Alta grimaces. She runs a hand through her short black hair and sighs. “I know. We should have talked to you about Edie, Conner. I regret that we didn’t.”
This sudden show of honesty is a surprise. “Here I am. Feel free to talk.”
Now that she’s on the spot, Alta squirms before continuing. “I’m sure you’ve wondered if I ever saw it coming, if I had any clue what Edie was capable of. From the time she was a child I dismissed Edie as a careless fool. My opinion of her didn’t improve when she grew up. We didn’t argue often because she wasn’t worth the effort. No, I had no clue who Edie really was. Neither did Matilda. One of the few things we have in common.”
Dishes clatter. People laugh. A man wearing a blue suit strolls past our table and snaps a photo of me while I think about my dead mother.
“I don’t forgive her,” I tell my aunt. “I know that bullet was an accident. She didn’t mean to hit me. But she’d killed before and was about to kill again. She left a mess and then didn’t stick around to face the consequences. For that I don’t forgive her.”
Alta nods. “As far as I’m concerned, forgiveness can be overrated.” She pauses and clicks her red polished fingernails against her glass. “Maybe this is no consolation, but Edie did love being your mother. She was the first of us to have a child and she adored you. She was so damn proud when you were drafted to the NFL. Edie wasn’t good at much but she was a better mother than I ever was.”
She’s not lying. I have a lot of good memories of my mother and a few extremely terrible ones. But there’s no time to brood over that because Matilda makes a big production as she returns to the table.
