Invisible (37 page)

“Oh, Aunt Ivy, I feel so bad about this. It isn’t that it isn’t convenient, and we’d love to have you. But we’re moving. Mike has just gotten a promotion, but it’s also a transfer. To Hawaii!”

“Hawaii,” I echoed. I had a dim vision of palm trees and grass skirts. I finally gathered my wits together enough to add, “Well, this is so exciting! And wonderful news for all of you. Congratulations!”

“It is wonderful news, and we are excited. But it’s all happening so fast. We’re leaving in less than a week, and there’s all this sorting and packing and everything that has to be done. I didn’t realize we had so much
stuff
.”

I was glad I hadn’t mentioned my Braxton problem. DeeAnn would feel worse than ever if she knew about that. “Throw things out,” I advised. “That’s what God designed moves for. To make us get rid of our excess baggage.”

“Hey, I know what let’s do. As soon as we get settled over there, you come stay with us! Sandy has been digging up all kinds of facts about Hawaii on the Internet. We’ll eat fresh pineapple and go body surfing and roast a whole pig in a luau!”

A whole pig sounded a bit intimidating, but, in general, a trip to Hawaii might be a fine idea. If the Braxtons didn’t roast
me
first. “Maybe I can do that,” I said.

“Aunt Ivy, is something wrong?” my ever-perceptive niece asked. “You aren’t thinking we don’t want you to visit, are you?”

“Well, of course I think that,” I said with pretended huffiness. “I’m sure you’ve invented this wild story about Hawaii just to keep me from coming. I venture to say you may even go so far as to move to Hawaii to make the story convincing.”

DeeAnn laughed. “There’s one woman I’ve done some bookkeeping for whom I’d consider moving to Mars to escape from, but not you, Aunt Ivy. Never you.”

“I know. And I appreciate that.”

“But there is something wrong, isn’t there?”

I considered how to phrase my situation to be truthful but not cause DeeAnn concern. “Since the trial, things have felt a bit . . . edgy here. I was just thinking it would be nice to get away for a while. But don’t you worry about it. I’ll be fine. I’ll just go spade up my garden and plant some spring peas. Now tell me all about Hawaii.”

DeeAnn bubbled on about how the company had leased a house for them in Honolulu, and they’d already had welcoming emails from relatives of friends in their Woodston church. “Sandy has mixed feelings about the move. She’s excited about Hawaii, but she hates to change schools in the middle of the year. And leave her friends, of course. I’ve found homes for all my house plants. We’re down to only one cat at the moment. Celery. And Mrs. Grandy from church is taking her, so no problem there.”

Celery, their stub-tailed calico cat, so named for one of her odd food preferences, was a stray that had wandered in a couple years ago. I’d always suspected there must be some sign in generic animal language announcing “Free Food! Nice Folks! Come On In!” posted on the back steps of the Harrington house.

“But we haven’t decided what to do about the house, whether to put it up for sale or rent it out. I do love this old place . . .”

“I’m sure everything will work out fine. Well, I’ll just let you get back to your sorting and packing. We’ll talk again before you leave, okay?”

I didn’t mean to cut her off, but I had some thinking to do here. With plan A shot down and the murderous Braxtons gunning for me, it was time to move on to plan B.

Unfortunately, I have no plan B.