Page 6

“Alright, let’s go.”

Reaching out her hand, she steadied her aunt as she stood. Rachel wasn’t an old lady. Her body was healthy for a fifty-six-year-old, but her mind was an entirely different story.

Together they went into the little kitchen and started preparing the food. While the sauce was simmering, Clarissa started a pot of water for the noodles and readied a pan for the frozen hot dogs. She set the margarine and the last of the Wonder bread on the counter in front of Rachel, who smeared it absently.

Since Clarissa put all the sharp knives in a drawer with child locks and added locks to the stove knobs, buttering bread was about as far as Rachel got in the kitchen nowadays. Which was fine by Clarissa. She didn’t need Rachel snooping around and getting hurt while she was at work.

“Are those kids still bothering you?” The question caught Clarissa off guard. Was Rachel talking about her school days?

When she didn’t respond, Rachel continued, stepping away from the bread she apparently forgot she was buttering to sit at the kitchen table. “You know those girls only do that because they’re insecure about their own bodies. And the boys go along with it because they’re hormone-riddled fools who would do anything to get a pair of boobs to look at them.”

Ah, she was thinking about high school. Rachel was almost never in the present decade, usually fixating on junior year in high school, either Clarissa’s or her own.

“I know, aunty. And no, they weren’t too bad today.”

“Good. If they ever pull a stunt like that again, you let me know and you can homeschool. I’ll also get Greg to cuff the little bitches and toss them in jail.”

“I know you would. Thank you for always looking out for me,” she said.

“Hey, don’t look so down in the dumps. High school is awful for everyone, but it doesn’t last forever. Okay? Keep your chin up, and you’ll go far, girl.” Rachel smiled.

Clarissa’s heart squeezed. The truth was, they had pulled the stunt again, and again, and each time it got worse. She never told Rachel though. She knew her aunt would have followed through on every idle threat she’d made to her school bullies. She hadn’t wanted that. So, she kept her mouth shut and endured in silence until that last blissful day when she graduated.

She was a big girl, she’d learned how to take care of herself. In the coming years, she got over her fears of being naked. Though it wasn’t easy, and she still avoided public showers as if they sprayed burning acid. And every day she thanked her lucky stars she was out of school before phones with cameras were popularized.

Finishing dinner, she made a plate and placed it in front of Rachel. She looked at it, confused.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Dinner, I made you spaghetti and hotdogs with garlic bread.” Clarissa sat down with her own plate.

“You made this? Oh, I’m so proud of you! Look how fancy this is for your first time cooking. You’re bound to be a five-star chef one day. I guarantee it.”

“Thanks, aunty, I’m happy you like it. There’s plenty more, so eat up as much as you want.”

“Oh, if you insist.”

When Rachel finished her first plate, Clarissa scooped her another portion and put the rest in containers for Rachel’s lunch. Her stomach grumbled. She was still trying to pay off the maintenance on her car from three months ago. Groceries were non-existent until next payday.

She rolled up her sleeves, did the dishes, and cleaned the stove. Checking her watch, she realized she didn’t have too much more time.

“Did you have a shower today, aunty? I got a new body wash, it’s rose, I think you’d really like it.”

“No, I didn’t, but that sounds lovely. I can go try it now.”

Clarissa waited until she heard the shower running, then started on the rest of her chores. She cleaned up the sitting room and recliner, checking the reusable stainless steel water bottles on the end table. Empty, that was good. Rachel was still drinking water. The recliner was dry. Another good sign: Rachel was still able to get herself up to the bathroom.

Going through the fridge, she found the meal she made for Rachel’s lunch was eaten, the empty plate put back in the fridge. She chuckled—if that was the worst that happened, she’d happily take it.

Running between the bedrooms, she started some laundry. She’d have to remember to put it in the dryer when she got home. The shower cut off. After waiting a minute, she went to the door.

“How did you like it?”

“It smells wonderful! I feel like a princess,” Rachel said.

“Good. I’ll make a note to get more.” In truth, Clarissa had been using that line on Rachel to get her to bathe for about a year now. She was able-bodied enough to do it—if she remembered.

Rachel came out of the bathroom. She looked at Clarissa and her face changed. Instead of calm and relaxed, she was abruptly anxious and agitated. Not good.