Em ran a hand over her vast head and smiled. Dora was a good decision, clumps of hair, swamp breath and all. “How would you like to gnaw on some grandma for breakfast? I hear disapproval and cranky taste good in the mornin’.”
Dixie blew out a breath of air, shooting her a look of apology. “Sorry. She gets under my skin. I hate the way she talks to you, Em. Sometimes I forget my manners when I’m around her, but she makes me so mad.”
“Who makes you mad, Aunt Dixie?” Clifton asked, his blue coat still unbuttoned and half hanging off his shoulders.
“Button up, please, Clifton. You’ll catch your death. And I was talkin’ adult things with Dixie. Never you mind,” Em scolded, watching his face change from a half smile to put upon the moment she began to speak.
Sunlight streamed in from the trio of arched windows in her breakfast nook, glinting off Clifton’s hair, dark and thick, making her want to ruffle it. But that would only make him mad. Everything made him mad, just like her mother.
With that in mind, Em latched on to his chin and planted kisses on his rounded cheeks until he tried to pull out of her embrace, but he’d lingered for a moment. It was only a moment, but it was. “Now, go to school and learn something you can teach me when you get home tonight.”
“I hate school. It’s stupid.”
Em’s heart wrenched. She didn’t blame him for hating school. Clifton endured painful taunts because of what Louella had done. Her hope that the incident would die down was proving futile.
“So stupid!” Dixie agreed. “I say we skip stupid school forever, stay home and watch lots of TV until the cable man comes and turns it off. Because he will, you know. They do that when you don’t have a good job that pays you enough money for your bills. If you don’t go to school, that’s what happens. But I’m game to see how long we can last. You get the chips, I’ll get the beer.”
Clifton warred with a smile, but he managed to wrangle it in and scowl instead. “That’s so lame, Aunt Dixie. I’m not old enough to drink beer.”
“Or quit school—so get a move on, mister!” Dixie’s sympathetic eyes met Em’s over Clifton’s head.
Dixie understood the kind of torture the boys were experiencing at the hands of Louella’s quest for revenge. After last night, now Em understood, too.
“To the car, young man.” Em pointed to the door, blowing him a kiss.
He made a face at her and did what he was told, blissfully without protest.
Dixie clapped her hand on the counter the moment Clifton was out of earshot. “And that’s why I said what I did last night, Em. You can be as mad as a hornet at me, but someone’s got to speak up. Because I won’t have Clifton Junior hate goin’ to school. Does this happen every day? Still?”
“Not every day, but often enough. I’ve talked to the principal and the teachers until I’m blue in the face, and they keep a close eye out. I’ve watched Clifton like a hawk for all the signs his therapist said to watch for when a child is teased the way he’s been teased. But you know what children are like. Somehow, they still find a way to niggle you.” It was as much torture for Em as it was Clifton. Once the object of Dixie’s cruel taunts throughout high school, she understood how much it hurt to be singled out.
“I’m sorry I made you the center of attention. I know you hate it, but I’m not standin’ by and watching Louella take her licks out on you anymore. So if you want to keep bein’ friends, you’d better get ready for some fireworks. No more, Em. She will not get away with this. If you’d just let me, I’d gladly wring her neck for you. We could have a party. Invite all the Mags—maybe make some pink punch?”
The similarities between the problems the boys were having and the issues she and Dixie had back in the day were too close.
Dixie was a different person now, kind and generous, but she’d never understand what it was to be taunted every day of her life. “Isn’t it ironic, that you, once the meanest girl in all the land, now want to beat up your predecessor for startin’ the same kind of trouble you once did?”
“Can I just tell you how sick I feel every time I realize what’s happening to the boys was what I specialized in?”
Instantly, Em was remorseful. She loved Dixie. She’d forgiven her. “I’m sorry. That was wrong of me. But it hurts like I can’t tell you watchin’ them go through the same kind of torture I did.”
“Don’t apologize. The truth is the truth. I was horrible back then. Now I have to watch my best friend’s boys, boys I’d give an organ to, suffer because Louella Palmer wanted to hurt me. I hate that, Em. If you’d just let me, I could make it stop, you know I’d do it.”
“By takin’ your buckets o’ money on outta Plum Orchard? And what would that accomplish? The girls would be out of a job, and you’d have nothing to throw in everyone’s face.”
Dixie straightened her scarf. “But you can bet your stash o’ wine, I’ll do it.”
“It’ll die down, Dixie.” Please, let it die down.