She groans and gestures to the dinner table.
I hide my hands in my lap and wait for her to speak.
“Leo and I made a deal. When he finally decided to retire, I would too,” she says.
I nod, not sure what I have to do with any of this.
“In order to do that, I need help with my books, like I told you,” she says.
“That’s it?” I ask her.
“Yep,” she chirps, and hops out of her seat.
“Okay, sure, no problem, that’s why I came all this way,” I tell her.
She claps her hands and smiles. “Wonderful, I’ll get dinner going.”
“Auntie, it’s two in the afternoon.”
“It’s never too early for pasta,” she says and gets to work.
I sit there for a moment processing what just happened. She had already told me about her books. Which isn’t a problem, but the way Uncle Leo looked at her, it feels like there’s more. But I trust that she would have told me if there were.
Maybe I should text my cousin Leo Jr. Though I don’t know that he would have a clue, I know he got out of Paxton as soon as he possibly could. He lives in Florida now.
“I’m going to unpack the car,” I mumble.
“Your uncle will help you with your bags.”
She grabs her walkie-talkie on the counter and calls for him. “Big L, your niece needs help with her bags, over,” she says.
“Ten-four, darlin’. I’ll be down in a minute.”
I smile and try to swallow my laugh, but a little one pops through.
Aunt Francesca looks over her shoulder.
“What? It’s easier than yelling for him,” she says.
“Big L?” I ask her.
She grins and lifts a shoulder.
I shake my head, laughing, as I go back out the door to get my stuff.
When I get to my car, Uncle Leo meets me there and leans against the side of the car. “Did your auntie actually talk to you?” he asks me.
I make a face and open the back door to grab my backpack.
“I think so. She needs help with the shop since you’re retired now.”
He sighs. “Alright.” He pops the back and pulls my suitcase out. I overpacked because I wasn’t sure how her finances would be and it might take me a while to fully understand where everything is at.
“Damn, Mae, did you pack an elephant in this thing?” he says, carrying it down the hall.
“No, just a couple of cinder blocks,” I tell him.
He chuckles and takes my suitcase down the hall to the guest room.
