Travel with the aunts, p.31
Travel with the Aunts, page 31
That’s what sisters are for. They watch each other’s backs.
Allison got dressed and headed back down to the night club. She stood in the doorway. Josie swirled on the dance floor to a lively waltz. Her pleated skirt swung wide as she moved gracefully. Daisy sat at their table, smiling and laughing as she chatted with one of the two gentlemen who had bought them drinks.
Frowning, she didn’t see Rosie. Did I miss her on the way down from their room?
Making her way over to their table, she smiled as Daisy looked up and acknowledged her. “How was your swim?”
Thanks, Aunt Daisy. I was wondering how I was going to start this conversation without it looking like I’m being critical of you.
“It was wonderful. I wanted to let you know that I was done and I’m ready to head for bed. Do you need me for anything?”
Daisy introduced her briefly to the gentleman at the table. A new dance started. Josie and her beau moved close and swayed gently to the music. And there was Rosie. She, too, had found a partner. She looked blissful as she moved to the music.
Daisy smiled her thanks. “We’re fine. You’ve had a long day. Go ahead to the room. I promise, we’ll be fine.” Allison thought she was done, but Daisy turned back. “Thank you for checking on us.”
“That’s what sisters are for.” Allison glanced again at Josie and Rosie. I want to learn ballroom dancing. I want to have that look of bliss and delight on my face.
She headed up to their room.
Chapter 27
Heading Home
The door eased open. Rosie tiptoed in, humming. Leaving the lights off, she stubbed a toe with a stifled yelp and whimper. Allison surreptitiously checked the bedside clock. 2:20. Rosie had closed down the nightclub.
“You can turn on the light. I don’t mind,” Allison told her.
“Oh, did I wake you?” Rosie groped her way to the wall, feeling for the light switch.
Allison turned on the bedside lamp.
Rosie giggled. “We had such fun!”
“Did Josie and Daisy just get back as well?”
Rosie shook her head, curls tumbling, hand to her mouth, and her eyes lit with delight. “Josie is still out. She went for a walk with her gentleman!”
Allison sat up, now fully awake. “She went out? Out where?”
Stop. Don’t be like Anna. Josie is an adult. She’ll be fine.
Rosie’s smile faded. “Do you think she’ll be all right? Is something wrong?”
Allison forced a smile. “Just curious. I think she’ll be fine. Time for you to get ready for bed. We have a long day tomorrow.”
Rosie’s smile returned. She dance-stepped over to her bedside lamp. “You can turn off yours. Oh, we did have fun! I wish you’d found someone as well.” Gathering her nightgown and kit, Rosie headed to the bathroom, humming happily.
••••••••••••••
Allison awoke early, just as the sky began to turn pink. Gazing out the window, listening to Aunt Rosie’s gentle squeaking, she thought about what her aunts had said. Her father had always told her how wonderful his mother, Anna, had been. But she knew that his siblings didn’t feel the same way. Her father’s sister had called Anna ‘hard to please’ and ‘demanding.’ His brother had mentioned once that she could be smothering.
Things now made sense. Anna, the Good One, had become Anna the Perfect Parent. Anna, the Good One, had alienated her sisters, had hurt her parents, had stressed her family.
Allison got up as the sun cast its rays across the roof tops. Leaving Rosie sleeping soundly, she dressed and headed out for an early morning walk. Stopping by the room next door, she listened at the door, wondering if she could hear both aunts. She heard Daisy’s muted bombing runs, but nothing else.
A nearby park, populated with dog walkers and morning joggers, provided a relaxing place to take a stroll as the sun crept above a distant bank of clouds. Heat increased as the sun climbed higher. Joggers headed home to shower before heading to work. Dog walkers collected their balls, sticks, and poo bags. Allison headed back, hoping it wouldn’t be up to her to rouse her sleeping aunts.
Listening at the doors, all remained quiet. It was only 9:30. Plenty of time. Well, with a lot of help from Allison, it would be plenty of time to pack up and get out. She shrugged and wiggled into her still-damp bathing suit. One last quick swim in the hotel’s wonderful pool.
Back in the room a half hour later, Allison became worried. None of the aunts had roused, still sleeping soundly. She took a quick shower, packed her own suitcase, put the wet suit in a plastic bag, and hauled it down to the lobby. No one waited at the front desk. Allison approached.
“May I help you?”
Allison gave their room number. “My great aunts had a late evening. They stayed until the night club closed and are still asleep. Is it possible for us to have a later checkout?” Allison stressed great aunts and wondered if she should have said octogenarian aunts.
The pert young lady turned to tap efficiently on her computer. After scrolling, tapping, with a gentle frown that would not disturb her perfect make-up, she turned back with a professional smile. “That does not seem to be a problem. We can move the checkout to noon or slightly later.” She gave Allison an eyebrow-lifted ‘anything else?’ smile.
“Thank you . . . um.” Allison never felt efficient or professional. “They’ll be hungry. Should I make a reservation for lunch?”
“I can certainly help you with that.” More perky efficiency. “Which dining area would you like?”
Feeling flummoxed, Allison looked around as though she could see both dining areas from where she stood.
Noting her confusion, the young woman pulled out a brochure, flipped it open, and showed Allison photos of the two dining rooms. One was fancy, candle-lit, and dark, where they had dined the evening before. The other looked more like a place to have a lunch that one could afford. She pointed to that one. “They were doing some drinking, maybe not next to a lot of noise or too sunny.” The one photo showed morning sun bathing the nearby tables in light.
Tapping the keyboard with her long, perfect fingernails, Allison was told that of course an appropriate table could be found, one overlooking the back garden. She made the reservation for 12:15, lunch for four. “Thank you,” Allison murmured as the young woman’s attention switched to the man striding over from the elevator.
She dragged her suitcase out to the carefully camouflaged parking area, hidden behind a row of trees and flowering shrubs, loaded it into the Buick’s trunk, and headed back up to the rooms.
I have to wake them.
Starting with Rosie, Allison called softly, then shook her shoulder gently. Rosie squeaked and thrashed against the covers. “What?”
Allison flashed back to the morning at Assateague when she was awakened by Rosie bouncing on their bed, chirping, “Wakie Wakie!”
“We need to get going. It’s almost eleven.”
“Ooohh! Oh no!” Rosie struggled to get herself untangled from the covers and get her legs to the side of the bed. “Are Daisy and Josie up? Am I late?”
“No, relax, Aunt Rosie. I’ve already gotten us a later checkout time. I haven’t heard any sound from next door. I need to get them up as well. You start getting ready, and I’ll see if I can get them up.”
Rosie giggled. “We were up late. Josie went out walking after Daisy and I headed up to bed.”
Allison had heard Daisy’s unique snoring, but that was all. Is Josie even here?
Only one way to find out. Allison went to the room Daisy and Josie shared and rapped sharply on the door. She heard an explosive snort. Yup, Aunt Josie was in there.
She somehow had all three of her slow-moving, drowsy, aged aunts out of the room and down to the dining room by 12:30. She already had their suitcases loaded in the Buick. Last time. Last morning out on the road. Allison smiled at the memories.
Daisy and Rosie chatted happily after polishing off their first mugs of coffee and with a good start on the second. But Josie quietly stared out the window, gazing at the small garden behind the hotel. Inattentive, distracted.
This is not like her. Did something happen last night?
While waiting for their lunches to arrive, Allison got up the nerve to ask. “Is something wrong?”
Josie turned her gaze to Allison and her sisters. Dreamily, with a gentle smile, she announced, “I think I’m in love.”
Allison’s jaw dropped.
Daisy laughed aloud.
Rosie giggled.
“But you just met him!” Allison blurted.
No-nonsense Josie immediately returned. “That’s why, at my age, you have to move fast.”
“But he lives here! You’ll never see him again.”
Daisy laughed at Allison’s consternation. “Oh, get over it. Josie, tell us all,” she demanded.
“He doesn’t live here. This is a hotel.” Josie corrected her niece. “He lives in Chicago and has a daughter he visits several times a year who lives in Charlevoix.” Josie added for Allison’s benefit, “That’s about an hour north of where I live. He said he’d come and visit.” Josie went dreamy-eyed. “There are several hotels nearby, or he could use my pull-out couch and stay in my apartment.” She sighed.
Rosie clapped her hands in delight. Daisy hooted and made a rude gesture, nearly knocking over her coffee.
“What is this Romeo’s name?” Daisy demanded as the waitress set their sandwich plates in front of them.
Josie, eyes sparkling, hands clasped under her chin, gazed at the restaurant’s crystal chandelier. “You met Charles last night. He’s a retired lawyer—a family lawyer—not some shyster or ambulance chaser. His wife passed away several years ago and he has two daughters, the one in Charlevoix and one in Atlanta. He’s sweet and dances beautifully. He still has hair and most of his own teeth.”
Daisy burst into laughter. Even Rosie laughed, girlishly, aloud.
Allison choked.
It was almost 2 p.m. when the Buick was finally brought around, and all the aunts and luggage were loaded for the last day of driving. After circumventing Cincinnati, Allison had clear sailing.
“Oh, my gosh!” Eyes still on the road, Allison raised a hand to her face.
“What?” Josie scanned the road ahead. Daisy checked for idiot lights or car problems while Rosie stopped humming and leaned forward in concern.
“I just realized, Dad is the Good One.”
That’s why he never wanted me to meet you. That’s why he could never say anything nice about you three. He followed his mother’s lead.
Thoughtful silence filled the car.
Josie leaned forward and asked gently, “What about you? Don’t drink, no boyfriend, no partying.”
Allison thought, and felt heat rise to her face. She remembered her father’s critical assessment of her wanting to be a counselor. “So, you want to tell people what they’re doing wrong and how they should live their lives?” She thought about how much that had hurt. She thought about how much her father’s opinion mattered to her.
Is that why I’m so unsure, so self-critical about going into counseling? So doubtful about my ability to be any good at it?
Slowly shaking her head, her concentration on the traffic on the highway, she responded, “No. No, I’m a Daddy Pleaser.”
Daisy gazed at her, seeing the heightened color, the deeper breathing. “You’re just realizing that, aren’t you?”
Allison nodded. “It makes sense. It’s why I believed everything he told me. I’ve always worked hard for his approval.”
Which included not doing anything wild or inappropriate.
Josie, still leaning forward, asked, “And your brother?”
Allison nodded in realization. “He and Mom are close. They laugh a lot, joke around. They drink socially and my brother likes parties and getting wild. At least, what my dad considers wild.”
“And that’s why you don’t,” Josie finished for her. She then smirked wickedly. “So, are you going to drink now?”
Allison barely hesitated, made eye contact in the rearview mirror with her senior aunt, and shook her head. “No. I’m going to do what’s right for ME.” Flicking another glance at Josie, she continued, “And I do go to parties. I’ve been very popular, especially these last two years. I get invited to quite a few off-campus parties.”
Daisy grinned and jumped in, “Designated driver.”
Allison nodded. “Which makes me very popular.” She then added, for Josie’s benefit, with a mischievous grin, “I can get drunk on ginger ale and dill pickles, or good dark chocolate. I have been accused of being falling-down drunk, laughing and having a great time, on ginger ale and dill pickles.”
Josie flopped back in her seat. “That, I’d like to see.”
“Then as others start getting more wasted, I find my psychologist kicking in. As self-control weakens and alcohol takes over, I get to see more of what is hidden, what people work to control. And it isn’t always pretty. That’s another reason I don’t want to drink. I’ve seen too many people do and say stupid things. I’ve heard too many guys say they don’t remember the drive home, that their car knew the way. Or that they ran off the road and the car got them back on the road and home.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to be on the road with them. I don’t want my friends who have only had a drink or two to drive home with someone like that on the road. In high school, I had a friend killed by a drunk driver.”
The aunts remained silent, feeling that Allison had more to say.
“Girls in my dorm, they’d go to a party, get drunk, then come in upset, crying that they’d awoken in some guy’s bed. Or, worse, that they passed out and realized . . . well, that they’d been raped. One girl in my dorm committed suicide after getting drunk at a party. I didn’t know her well, but something happened, something bad enough that she couldn’t live with it. That happened in my freshman year. I wish there’d been a counselor on hand. It may have saved her life.”
Allison caught a glimpse of Josie reaching forward and putting a restraining hand on Daisy’s shoulder as Daisy was about to say something. Josie made eye contact in the rearview mirror, stern, concerned, and silent.
She knows. She knows to keep her mouth shut. She knows that silence will encourage a person to fill that silence. Silence gives time for the person to gather thoughts, even for realization to occur. Well done, Aunt Josie.
“I usually went to parties with the same two to four friends.” She flicked a glance back at Rosie. “I’m not as good at reading danger as you are. Or I wasn’t paying attention. There were a couple times when one of our female friends had too much to drink and was being hit on. Remember, I mentioned Cass, my gay friend? He was good at reading danger signs. Just a few months ago, we were at a party. Cass came over and, like you, Aunt Rosie, said we should go. Our friend, Lacey, was very happy, and had found a very attentive admirer. He’d just bought her yet another drink. Cass stomped over and declared that Lacey was his girlfriend and they were heading out. Our other friend whispered to Lacey that the guy was trying to get her drunk, most likely to have his way with her. She threw the drink at him and we walked out.” Allison pursed her mouth in consternation. “Cass had me drive to an all-night pancake house. He had us order food and coffee and got us all laughing and joking. We had more fun there than at the party. Cass is—” Allison shook her head again, self-doubt evident in her expression. “Cass is going to be a fantastic counselor.”
“So are you!” Josie snapped. “You are going to be a very good counselor. Don’t doubt yourself.”
Allison noted the very good rather than excellent. Again, Josie seemed to know that using excellent would have rung false.
“Aunt Josie, you waited for me to continue. Where did you learn about wait time? That’s a skill most people lack.”
“You forget, Arnie and I owned bookstores. I have always read prodigiously. I did my share of reading psychology, sociology, journalism interviews, and true crime which included interrogation techniques. All of those talked about the importance of keeping your mouth shut. People tend to be uncomfortable with silence and want to fill it. It also gives the other person important time to process, to gather one’s thoughts, and to find the correct way to express those thoughts clearly.”
Allison nodded. “You did well.”
Allison drove on in silence. Daisy gazed at her, taking in Allison’s demeanor and expression, the pursed mouth and tense muscles around her eyes. “You are either thinking about something very deeply or we need to stop because you’re going to erupt. Give.”
Allison shot a glance at Daisy beside her, then flicked a look in the rearview mirror. “Well, I . . . uh. What if—” She frowned, hands gripping the wheel hard, eyes straight ahead. “What if I concentrated on counseling seniors?” she blurted.
Daisy stared at her, or at least in the direction of her right ear. Josie and Rosie stared at the back of her head.
Allison gritted her teeth.
“Aunt Daisy, you’re facing . . . well . . . Barth’s illness.” She glanced sideways to see the reaction. “You must have questions. Wouldn’t you like some support, someone with whom you could share your concerns, talk things through?”
Josie snorted. “People like that are called friends.”
“Friends can be critical of you. Friends can get caught up playing games like, well, if you think that’s bad . . . or just mindless placating. What about you, Aunt Josie? If you hadn’t gone to a financial counselor, you may have been taken for half your money, or more, when you married that guy in Colorado. Aunt Rosie, you finally revealed pain and heartache that has been with you for decades. Is it a relief to finally have it out and shared?” She flicked a look at Rosie, huddled against the window.
