“Aunt Feb, Jeb. Aunt Feb, Jeb,” Maisie chanted, most likely in an attempt to simultaneously annoy her mother and brother, her favorite pastime and one at which she excelled.
Maisie was Meems and Al’s third child, the long awaited daughter. First came Jeb then came Emmett then came Maisie. Meems had been so overjoyed she had a daughter she thought her luck had changed and broke her rule of only three kids (which meant breaking her rule of only two kids, she’d made the third attempt to get a girl) with the hopes of evening out the gender balance in the house. But along came Tyler.
Meems lucked out though, Maisie was as much of a girl as you could get. So much so, even though Al, Jeb, Emmett and Tyler were about as boy as you could get, Maisie still helped Meems settle the balance of the house with the sheer amount of nail polish she had lying around; not to mention her butterfly stickers which were stuck to everything; and her hair barrettes and ponytail holders with sparkled ribbons attached to them; her glitter pens littering every surface; and her bobby pins with bees and ladybugs on them laid here there and everywhere. Meems’s house looked like a little girl tornado swept through it. The odd GI Joe doll and baseball mitt didn’t stand a chance.
“Shut up, Maze,” Jeb snapped as I hit the kitchen.
“You shut up,” Maisie retorted.
“No, you shut up.”
“No, you shut up.”
Good God, I’d had that same argument with Morrie about a million times when we were kids. If my life wasn’t a certified disaster at that moment, I would have felt the beauty of a world that changed all around you in ways you couldn’t control but still stayed exactly the same in ways that were precious.
“Kids,” Al said and at that one word, both kids shut up.
I looked at Mom who was still stirring but was now looking at me.
“Where’s Colt?” I asked.
“You okay, sweetie?” she asked back.
I nodded and repeated, “Where’s Colt?”
She drew breath into her nostrils and looked at her sauce before answering, “With Sully.”
Something was wrong, she was holding back from me.
“Mom –”
“Girlie, let me get you a drink,” Jessie suggested but Mom’s head came up.
“No, not at least…” Mom paused and said, “Let me call Doc, see if it’s okay Feb has alcohol after that injection.”
“Good call,” Jessie muttered as Mom hit the phone.
I looked around at everyone and said again, “Where’s Colt?”
“With Sully, lovely,” Meems told me, “like your Mom said.”
She was holding back too.
“He okay?” I asked.
“Sure?” Meems asked back. Jessie threw her a look, Al dropped his head and I knew she’d exposed something, I just didn’t know what.
“Are you sure you’re sure?”
As Mom started talking into the phone, Al waded in. “Feb, darlin’, Colt’s okay, Craig Lansdon is okay, everyone’s okay.” There it was, they knew all about it, I couldn’t dwell on that because Al kept talking. “Just that, Morrie got to him and Colt didn’t feel like backin’ down. We all know what happens when those two disagree on somethin’ but it’s all right now.”
That meant Colt and Morrie got physical.
I closed my eyes and only opened them when Al said again, “February, it’s all right now.”
“Either of them get hurt?” I asked.
Al shook his head. “Morrie’s gonna have a shiner, Colt’s good. Morrie didn’t want to hurt him, just contain him, so he didn’t do the first and managed, when Sully showed, to do the last.”
Mom hung up and announced, “Doc says no booze, food. So let’s get you some spaghetti.”
I ignored Mom and asked, “When’s Colt coming home?”
More shared glances, more cagey behavior and I felt a chill slide along my skin.
“What?” I pushed.
“Colt’s gonna stay with Sully and Raine tonight, honey,” Mom said, turning the burner on under the water. I could see the oil floating in wet bubbles on top and the thought of Mom’s spaghetti, nearly as beloved as my frittata, made my stomach churn.
“Why?” I asked.
“Just needs some space, girlie,” Jessie answered, head in a cupboard and she came out with a bag of potato chips. “You want an appetizer?” she asked, shaking the bag which was the extent of Jessie’s ability to provide appetizers unless she called a caterer. Jessie wasn’t much of a cook.
I didn’t want chips. I wanted Colt.
But I knew, I didn’t act fast, I’d never have him. I knew, I didn’t act fast, that same seed that was planted in my soul hours ago and was taking root and growing strong even as I slept my hysteria away, had been planted in his too. But he’d been conscious during that time. He had time to work with it, fertilize it, help it grow.
I looked at Al. “Al, will you take me to Sully’s?”
Al looked at Mimi and, even edging toward frantic, this shocked me. Al was a man and by that I meant a man. He didn’t often look to Meems to make a decision about what he was going to do or when he was going to do it.
But Al knew, he fucked up right now with this situation, he’d live with that fuck up for the rest of his life and the panic I was feeling increased.
“Honey, I’m not sure –” Mom started but Meems nodded to her husband.
Al interrupted Mom by saying to me, “Sure, darlin’.”
“Al –” Mom began again but I was on the move.
I went to Colt’s room and pulled on socks then boots then a jeans jacket. Al was at the front door when I hit the living room and we were both out of the house before I gave in and looked around the room to measure their expressions. I didn’t have a lot of courage in me, I was holding onto a thin thread of strength that was stretched tight and could easily snap. I needed to do this now or I was never going to do it and then, again, I’d lose everything and it hurt enough the first time, it’d destroy me now.