“Don’t forget my bras,” she interrupted. “Monica has me out in public with my titties loose.”
I burst out laughing.
The three of us talked until someone brought in a dinner tray of what appeared to be Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, and peas. About an hour later, her medication was dispensed, and Monica said good night. Thirty minutes after that, Aunt Addy started to drift off.
“Are you comfortable?” I asked her as I watched her face twitch reflexively.
“It’s not my bed, but it’s fine,” she murmured.
“You won’t have to be here long,” I told her.
Her eyes remained closed. “I sure won’t. Two weeks max.”
“I’m going to head out and let you get some rest. I’ll be back in the morning with your stuff.”
Her eyes opened fractionally. “Okay, and we need to talk about how you’re living.”
I leaned over the bed and hugged her carefully. “Sounds good.” My voice broke as I pulled away. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I watched her for a moment, and my eyes filled with tears. Blinking them away, I turned and rushed out the door. I drove to her house in silence, my stomach in knots. I couldn’t stop thinking about how all the plans my aunt and I had made were changed in an instant.
I’d seen her unwell before, but I’d never seen her likethat. She’d been on hospice three times, but she’d neverlookedsick. I knew she was going to die one day—everyone dies eventually—but it was the first time it seemed like that day could come soon.
I was not ready to lose her.
I pulled into her driveway, dropped my head to the steering wheel, and took a deep breath. When I felt ready, I wiped the tears from my cheeks, grabbed my bag, and went inside the four-bedroom rancher.
I set my suitcase down in the room Aunt Addy had deemed as mine. Passing the guest bedroom and the reading room, I paused in the doorway of Aunt Addy’s room.
She’s in rehab. She’ll be back soon, I reminded myself as I started to pack a bag for her.She’ll be fine.
I grabbed everything she needed, including several pairs of earrings and her favorite lipsticks, then rushed to the nearest store that sold boxes, and arranged the plants, the flowers, and the bust in one box. As I stacked photos in the second box, I dropped one on the floor.
“Shit,” I cursed, praying the glass didn’t break as I bent to pick it up. “Phew.”
Breathing a sigh of relief when I turned it over, I realized it was the picture of me at my eighth-grade graduation. My aunt was holding two of my awards, and I was holding the other two.
As a fat girl, you have to be nearly perfect in every other aspect of your life so the only thing they can say about you is that you’re fat.
My parents drilled those words into my head to combat the teasing I faced from the popular girls in school. Reflecting on the adage that had kept me in a chokehold since I was thirteen years old, I blinked back tears. I spent more than half my life holding on to those words.
If it weren’t for Aunt Addy…
I shook off the thought and stacked the rest of the photos into the box. When I noticed the photo that was on top of the stack, I froze. It was of me and Aunt Addy on my Hamilton University graduation day. She looked so proud. The longer I stared at the image, the harder it became to keep my emotions in check.
“I need to get out of here,” I said aloud, hopping to my feet.
I grabbed my handbag and my keys as I rushed from the house.
Chance didn’t really have nightlife, but I knew there were two bars on either side of town that stayed open until two o’clock in the morning. One was the closest thing to a club in Chance. And the other was a sports bar. Being that it was mid-June, I was sure the sports bar would be full of basketball fans watching the playoffs. Eating greasy bar food and getting sucked into the hype of a game would be the perfect way to quiet the thoughts flooding my mind.
I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror and saw my glassy, red-rimmed eyes, my downturned full lips, and my flushed caramel complexion. I pulled down my ponytail and let my brown with honey-blonde highlighted locs fall over my shoulders. Hoping to hide behind my hair, I climbed out the car, straightened my gray T-shirt, and tugged at my skintight black yoga pants.
Even though I was extremely casual, I thought I looked good enough for the bar. I had second thoughts when I walked through the door and the first few women I saw had on heels, short skirts, and revealing dresses. I was underdressed by comparison, but the way I was feeling on the inside, I didn’t have the energy to care. I just needed a distraction.
“Table for one, please,” I told the hostess who’d greeted me as I approached.
