Always You (16 page)

“And annoying,” Chiara said.

“Oh, shut up, Repeat,” Cady grumbled.

“See what we mean?” Chiara said. “Just because I look like Clara, you call us ‘Pete’ and ‘Repeat.’ That one’s not even original.”

“You’re right,” Cady agreed with an empty smile. “I think I’ll call you Ditto from now on. Or how about Li’l Clara?”

Abby reached across Chiara to pat Cady’s knee. “Don’t get your back up, honey. But for Troy’s sake, you really should be a little nicer to Tits.
Tiff!
Lord, now you’ve got me started.”

Chiara laughed in spite of herself, and would have taken that moment to excuse herself if the doorbell hadn’t chimed.

“That must be Zweli with Miss Etheline.” Abby started for the door. “I was wondering what was taking them so long.”

Chiara, poised to bolt from the room, would have made it if Cady hadn’t grabbed the back of her top. The loosely woven knit garment, which Chiara had purchased from a street vendor in China, gave Cady great fingerholds. “Uh uh,” Cady said. “If we have to sit through an afternoon with Miss
Evil
ine, then so do you. You’re the only reason she’s here. Mama talked to her on the phone this morning and made the mistake of mentioning that you were moving home today. She invited herself over, and you know Mama.”

Chiara looked for rescue in the archway, where John had been chatting with Keren, who’d been holding Virginia. Both men had disappeared with the baby in a flash of corduroy and wool the moment the front door began to open and Miss E.’s loud, deep voice rolled into the foyer.

“Praise Jesus, we got here in one piece!” When Miss Etheline Simpson stamped her feet on the braided welcome mat, it sounded like an angry bull about to charge. “Dr. Zweli, you drive as if Satan and all his soldiers are trying to bring you back home.”

“I made a point to drive the speed limit, Miss Etheline,” came Zweli’s weary voice. “After you expressed your concerns about my driving the last time I picked you up.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I sat in the back seat all the same,” Miss Etheline said with a breathy sigh.

“Poor Zweli always gets stuck driving Miss Crazy,” Cady whispered to Kyla.

“It comes with the territory,” Chiara replied, remembering Lee’s joy when Cady and Keren got married. As the newest son-in-law, Keren had inherited Lee’s agonizing chore of chauffeuring Miss Etheline to and from select Winters family functions, a task Lee had inherited from a much-relieved Christopher.
That’s why my beloved brothers-in-law keep trying to prod me into a wedding,
Chiara thought, pinching her lips together.
Miss E. is a human chain letter, and they want to pass her off once and for all.

Miss Etheline remained in the foyer, bossing Zweli around as though she’d bought him at auction. “Help me out of this coat, child, I’m burning up in here. Abby keeps it hotter than the devil’s kitchen in this house. Wish I had money to burn on heating oil like some folks do.”

Carrying a heap of red wool blend that Chiara assumed was Miss Etheline’s coat, Zweli grimaced into the living room as he passed the archway on his way to the closet under the stairwell.

“Say hello to Miss Etheline, everyone,” Abby directed uncomfortably as she returned to the living room.

“Hello, Miss Etheline,” the Winters sisters chorused flatly.

With her fists resting on her waistline, which appeared to be directly under her armpits, Miss Etheline’s large physique seemed to fill the archway with only a few inches to spare on each side. She wore a two-piece jacket dress in a purple-and-pomegranate woven polyester print that seemed to shift about her bulk with a life of its own. The thick soles of the black orthopedic shoes laced tightly to her big, square feet easily brought her up to a good six feet. Her thinning gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun that had been supplemented with fake hair the color of burnt chestnut. She stood silent for a moment—the only respite from her voice the household was likely to enjoy until Zweli took her back home—and peered over the tops of her big, thick, window-like glasses, studying each person in the living room.

When she started for the biggest, most comfortable armchair where Kyla was nursing Niema, Chiara realized that Miss Etheline had zoomed in on her target. And that she was sitting directly in the center of the crosshairs.

Removed to another chair, Kyla rested Niema over her shoulder and gave her a gentle burping. Niema’s soft coos were the only sounds in the room as everyone grew silent, eager to see the imminent showdown between Miss Etheline and Chiara. Neither Almadine Mahoney nor Emmitt Grayson had been Chiara’s first nemesis. It was Miss Etheline Simpson, a friend of Abby Winters for almost fifty years. The two women had met in college. Abby had been a student working on her degree in education and Etheline had been employed in the cafeteria, working the breakfast and lunch shifts.

Chiara never knew how her mother and Miss Etheline had become friends, never mind stayed friends, considering Etheline’s bossy, condescending ways. The only reason she could think of to explain the endurance of the friendship was that Abby knew that Miss Etheline had no other family or friends, which guaranteed that Abby would never turn her back on her.

Cady had long ago proposed that the reason Miss Etheline had no children was because, like a piranha, she had eaten them. Nothing Chiara had seen of the woman in the ensuing years had disavowed her of that notion.

From the age of five on, Chiara hadn’t known a moment’s ease in Miss Etheline’s presence. The woman picked on everything, especially things that couldn’t be helped, and therefore left Chiara in a position she couldn’t possibly defend. She’d sent Chiara running outside crying one Thanksgiving when she’d pointed out that one of Chiara’s ears appeared to be higher than the other. And worse had been Abby’s attempt to console her: “Miss Etheline doesn’t mean anything by it, baby,” she’d said. “It doesn’t matter how your ears are attached since they both work, right?”

Long gone, though, were the days when Miss Etheline could reduce her to tears with one of her snide observations. For one, Chiara had stayed out of her sight even on her few previous visits home. Secondly, Chiara wasn’t a little girl anymore. And third, Miss Etheline had picked the wrong damn week to pick a fight with Chiara Winters.

Even Niema quieted when Miss Etheline fixed her rheumy eyes on Chiara and drawled, “So the prodigal one has returned at last.” She tapped one of her thick, blunt fingers on the arm of the chair.

“Yep,” Chiara responded.

“I bet your mama was glad to see you.”

“Forget the fatted calf,” Chiara said. “Mama would have killed and spit-roasted one of my sisters if I’d asked her to.”

“Yes, your mama sets quite a store by her girls. Even the ones that break her heart.” Miss Etheline’s cheeks bulged in a tiny smile. She took a long sip of the iced root beer she’d requested from Abby, and the dark beverage clung to her upper lip, making her light mustache even more pronounced.

“That’s not fair and you know it, Ethel,” Abby broke in. “I let my girls live their own lives.”

“Doing God knows what with God knows who in God knows where,” she trumpeted.

“God knows it’s my life and my business,” Chiara said sweetly.

“I know that John Mahoney’s around here somewhere,” Miss Etheline said, craning her neck as though he were hiding behind her chair. “I had me a dog once who was like him. Always followed me around. Little fellow did everything I told him to.”

Chiara’s nostrils flared, but she held her tongue.

“I was just talking to Almadine the other day,” Miss Etheline went on. “We were talking about what a shame it is that John is wasting his life worrying after somebody who ain’t never gonna settle down and marry him.”

“I’m sorry to hear that you and Mrs. Mahoney don’t have anything better to do than talk about John’s love life,” Chiara said stiffly.

Miss Etheline belched out a chuckle. “Love?” She laughed out loud. “Love ain’t got nothin’ to do with it. If it did, you would’ve married that boy by now and pumped out a few of his babies.”

“Ethel, why don’t you come into the kitchen and help me put out lunch,” Abby offered, reaching for Miss Etheline’s hand.

Miss Etheline sat still. “I didn’t come here to work, and I’m fine right here.” She narrowed her eyes at Chiara, her glasses making them appear even larger and more sinister. “When are you going to make your mama happy and marry that boy?”

Chiara took a deep breath through her nose and nearly gagged on the scent of overripe cabbage that always seemed to emanate from Miss Etheline. “The last thing I would ever do is get married for the sake of making someone else happy,” Chiara said.

“You really are a selfish little girl.”

Chiara’s fingers burrowed into the cushion she was sitting on. “You’re a mean old lady.”

Cady bit down on her lips. Clara’s wide, pretty eyes became even wider. Kyla smothered a laugh in Niema’s shoulder, and Abby frantically gripped handfuls of her apron. “Please,” Abby started. “This is supposed to be a nice afternoon. I don’t want any fighting.”

Chiara wasn’t sure whom her mother was appealing to, but she doubted it was Miss Etheline. “I’m just defending myself, Mama. After all these years, I certainly don’t expect you to do it.”

Miss Etheline abruptly sat up, the chair creaking under her weight. “Don’t you talk to your mama like that in front of me!”

“You’re the reason I spoke to her like that!” Chiara fired back. “If you don’t want to hear it, you can go home.”

“Chiara, I won’t have you being rude to Miss Etheline,” Abby said, showing her spine to the one combatant she could. “Apologize.”

Miss Etheline sat back, smiling smugly. Chiara stared at her mother, her face burning with fury. Before she could work out a suitably vicious response, Ciel’s voice broke the uncomfortable silence.

“Clarence!” she called sharply. “Would you come in here?”

A few seconds later, Clarence, followed by Abigail and Ella, ran into the room. “What is it, Mama?” he asked breathlessly.

Ciel tipped her head toward Miss Etheline.

His shoulders slumped, Clarence dragged his feet over to the armchair. “Hello, Miss Etheline,” he deadpanned.

“Look at you,” she said. “Your mama lets you run around looking like you ain’t got a home to go to. Let me see your teeth.”

Clarence whipped his head toward his mother, his young face wrinkled in curiosity.

“Don’t go looking at your mama,” Miss Etheline snapped. She clutched Clarence’s shoulder and dragged him to her, bouncing his slight body off her gigantic bosom. “Let’s see them teeth.”

Clarence bared his choppers.

Peering down her nose, Miss Etheline said, “I knew it. I bet your mama and daddy let you eat sugar for dinner and more sugar for dessert.”

“We had chicken last night,” Clarence said.

“Don’t talk back. Hand me my purse, boy,” she commanded.

Miss Etheline’s purse, a big black thing that could have doubled as a weekend tote, sat beside the chair. She could have grabbed it herself merely by hanging her arm over the arm of the chair, but she seemed to take more pleasure in watching Clarence heave the heavy thing onto her widespread knees.

As Miss Etheline rooted through her purse, Abigail and Ella, clutching each other’s arms, tried to back out of the living room. “Where do you two think you’re going?” Miss Etheline snapped. “You just come on over here.”

Ella, the more sensitive of the two sisters, held onto Abigail even tighter as her chin began to tremble.

Miss Etheline withdrew her coin purse and unsnapped the latch. She spent a long moment shuffling her fingers through the coins before she pulled out a quarter and offered it to Clarence.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“It’s for you,” she barked, forcing the coin into his palm.

Clarence stared dully at the quarter. “Thank you, Miss Etheline.”

“You’re welcome. Girls, come on over here. I want to look at you.”

Ella began crying in earnest, and Abigail couldn’t seem to make her feet move. Troy, Tiffani and C.J. provided a much-needed distraction when they entered the room. “Mom, I need to run Tiffani down to the drugstore,” Troy said. “We’ll be back—”

“Oh, you don’t see me, do you?” Miss Etheline broke in.

“Miss Etheline,” Troy said, his face breaking into a fearful smile as he approached her. He was careful to remain out of arm’s reach. “Good to see you, ma’am.”

She peered around Troy. “Who’s she?”

Tiffani pushed her way forward to take Miss Etheline’s hand. “I’m Tiffani McCousy.” She pasted on her biggest beauty contestant smile and tilted her head, flipping her chemically straightened black hair over one shoulder. “I’m Troy’s girlfriend. We’ve been together for two months.” She giggled, her big white teeth reflecting in Miss Etheline’s glasses.

Miss Etheline gave her a wide, bright smile that Tiffani clearly mistook for friendliness. “How old are you, baby?” she asked pleasantly.

“Eighteen, same as Troy.” She kneeled, since Miss Etheline seemed to have no intention of turning loose her hand.

Miss Etheline’s eyes settled on the front of Tiffani’s tight black knit top. “You’re Troy’s girlfriend, you say?”

“That’s right.” Tiffani’s smile wilted a bit, and she looked down at her hand. Chiara thought she heard Tiffani’s delicate bones grinding together under the pressure of Miss Etheline’s grip, which Chiara knew from experience to be strong enough to buckle unopened beer cans.

“I just bet you’re quite the handful, Miss Tiffani,” Miss Etheline said. “You better keep an eye on these two, Clara, before you end up a grandma before you’re ready. I can just guess what you’re heading down to the drugstore to buy.”

Tiffani snatched her hand away, and Chiara actually felt a little sorry for her.

“Don’t act all offended with me, Miss Tiffani,” Miss Etheline said. “I know what you young people are all about, especially a fast little thing like you.”

“Ethel!” Abby snapped.

“Mama, we’re not—Tiff and I aren’t—we don’t—” Troy stammered, his face reddening as his aunts and cousins looked at him.

“I can tell just by looking at her that Miss Tiffani likes to throw her weight around, if you get me,” Miss Etheline cackled.

“That doesn’t mean I’m catching it!” Troy nearly shouted.

“Ethel, really,” Abby intervened as John and Keren dared to peep into the living room from the foyer. “I’m not going to have you here anymore if you keep upsetting everybody.”

“If the truth is upsetting, ain’t nothin’ I can do about that.”

Abby stood her ground. “I won’t have you imposing your ‘truth’ on my family anymore. Did you even look at Chiara before you started in on her? She’s had a hard week.”

“Every day of my life is hard,” Miss Etheline grumbled. “You don’t hear me complaining about it.”

“No, you just take your misery out on my children and my grandchildren.” Abby crossed her arms over her chest.

Chiara almost smiled. It had been long in coming, but finally, Abby was defending her family against the mighty Miss Etheline.

“What you goin’ to the drugstore for if it ain’t to buy rubbers?” Miss Etheline bellowed at Troy. “That’s the only thing young peoples go to the drugstore for these days, rubbers and birth control pills.”

“What the hell have we missed?” John said, appearing with Keren.

C.J., who was standing nearby, colored deeply. “Miss Lethaline,” he started, implementing yet another of Cady’s nicknames, “thinks Troy and Tiffani are running off to knock boots. Grandma got mad and now they’re fighting.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t speak like this in front of the children,” Abby directed at Miss Etheline.

“I didn’t call them in here,” Miss Etheline said defensively.

“I called Clarence in here because there’s something I need him to do,” Ciel explained in cool, precise tones.

“What?” Miss Etheline scoffed.

“Clarence.” Ciel pointed to Miss Etheline’s chair.

“I have to show her my teeth again?” he whined.

“No. But I’d be extremely appreciative if you removed your Christmas present from Miss Etheline’s root beer.”

Clarence’s eyes brightened as he smiled. “You found him!”

Miss Etheline’s heavy eyebrows drew closer. “Him?”

Clarence reached for his lost gift, the eight-inch bearded dragon perched on the highly polished side table next to Miss Etheline’s chair.

“What the—” was all Miss Etheline managed before Clarence’s grasping hands sent the chubby, reddish-orange lizard scurrying up Miss Etheline’s arm, its filed-down claws catching in the garish fabric of her top.

Miss Etheline threw her arms up and hollered, the sound not totally unlike that made by a wounded draught cow Chiara had seen put down in a Malaysian village. The lizard, perhaps more frightened by Miss Etheline than she was by it, sought refuge on her shoulder, which drove her to her feet. Beating at herself with her oven-mitt sized hands, Miss Etheline became a purple-and-pomegranate tornado as she spun in frantic circles, screaming, knocking over her chair, the side table, and everything else in her path.

Niema, ordinarily a quiet and good-natured baby, opened her sweet little mouth and added her terrified screams to Miss Etheline’s. The baby’s cries awakened Sammy and Claire Elizabeth, who’d been napping upstairs.

The lizard, apparently enjoying the ride, climbed higher atop Mount Etheline, cresting the summit of her fake bun to display the rough orange ridges and scales under its chin, the beard for which its species had been named.

Keren handed Virginia off to Cady. “Hold still, Miss Etheline, and we’ll get it!” he said, reaching for her head.

“Bearded lizards are very gentle,” Danielle called, finally entering the living room from her eavesdropping perch in the foyer. “He’s just playing with you!”

“Don’t hurt him!” Clarence pleaded, getting in Keren’s way.

Kyla, using Niema to stifle her giggles, huddled with Clara and Ciel, who shook with silent laughter. Cradling a now-sobbing Virginia to her chest, Cady watched her husband’s attempts to subdue Miss Etheline and her passenger, a delighted smile on her face. Troy and C.J. joined Keren in trying to remove the lizard from Miss Etheline’s hair while Tiffani leaned against the archway, covering her mouth with her hands to capture her amusement. Abigail and Ella fell into each other’s arms, laughing, and Abby shunted them out of the room, chastising them through her own wheezy snickers.

Through the chaos of collapsing furniture and bodies leaping clear of Miss Etheline’s erratic path, John sought out Chiara. She wasn’t laughing, and at the sight of her, his own merriment vanished. No one other than John noticed Chiara slump sideways and fall face first to the loveseat.