by Gina Henning
“Hello?” Jack pulls open a drawer and grabs a pen. He writes something down on piece of paper that is sitting on the counter.
My phone flashes a green rectangle box, it’s a text message. I slide my fingers across the screen and glance at the text, it’s Brianna.
Ho. Ho. Ho. Just cause you’re feeling jolly doesn’t mean everything is all glitter and gold, remember your path is paved with a promotion not the depths of debt and uncertainty.
My eyes can’t roll harder
Wow, Bri I didn’t realize you got a job at Hallmark in their Cheerful Message Writing Department.
A photo pops up in my text message box, it’s a picture of a check inscribed to “Reality for Lauren” and signed by Brianna M. Bacci.
I smile and role my eyes again.
I pull up my Google app and search “you’re on Santa’s naughty list”. I find the perfect image and save it. Then I edit it quickly in my fotogram app and add Brianna’s name to the top of the naughty list and put my own on the nice list.
I send her the photo.
My phone vibrates back in my hand with one word: “yawn”.
I laugh and put my phone back in my purse.
“OK, all right, see you then, Aunt Minnie.” Jack puts his phone back in his pocket and rips off the note from the pad. He turns around and faces me.
My eyebrows are touching my hairline with anticipation. He locks eyes on me almost as if he is just realizing my presence. Even though I’ve been standing in the room with him the entire time.
“That was my Aunt Minnie.” He nods as if those five words answer the millions of questions running rampant in my mind.
“Okay.” I give my own wordy response.
“She is arriving in a few hours in Austin. I have to go pick her up.” Jack runs his index finger and thumb along his jaw.
“Oh…is this is a surprise?” My eyebrows are raised, despite trying to keep a cool, calm, and collected face.
“Well, I guess. I mean, she called a few weeks ago and mentioned that she might come for Christmas, but I hadn’t really thought she was serious about it. We’ve been talking daily and she hasn’t brought it up again. Ever since Lewis died, she has been really quiet about the holidays.” Jack runs his fingers through his hair.
“I’m sorry.” I grab Jack’s hand and squeeze it.
“It’s okay, that’s how she deals with things. When my parents died, she immediately rushed in and was there for Lewis and me. We were both in high school, and she knew how hard moving would have been for us, so she uprooted her life and moved in with us. She did all of this behind the scenes, we didn’t even know what was going on until the moving trucks arrived.” Jack wipes his face with his hand.
“Wow, that’s really sweet, she seems like a really wonderful woman.” I rub Jack’s arm.
“She is and I want you to meet her.” Jack grabs both of my arms.
“I don’t know, maybe you can take me back to my parents so I can get things figured out for tomorrow.” I reach for my purse and slide it on my arm. Jack pulls up my chin, softly kisses me.
“Come with me.” Jack kisses me again. I break our kiss.
“Don’t you think you should pick your aunt up on your own? Maybe spend some quality time with her? How long has it been since you’ve seen her?” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I want to spend quality time with you. Come on, road trips days before a big holiday event is kind of our thing.” He traces his finger along my jaw. My stomach flips thinking about our previous Thanksgiving eve adventure, where Jack rescued me from an ice storm. Stay focused, Lauren.
I laugh. “Right, but adding your Aunt Minnie to the car doesn’t exactly give us that same experience.”
“Come on, I’ll make it worth your while. Besides, we have the whole trip down there to ourselves.” Jack pulls me in close and kisses me hard. The power behind his lips is strong. Harder than I would have imagined a kiss could ever be. There is no way I can say no to the round-trip idea or anything he might suggest. I’m weak. Weakened by his powerful kiss. His lips have such an overwhelming power over me, I feel like I’m under a dictatorship rule…ruled by his touch. But Jack isn’t like that…he’s better than that. I know if I ever wanted to walk away, he would respect my wishes. Damn. I’m torn. Am I over-infatuated by him? Am I seeing things clearly? I don’t want to end up a fool. I need to play this cool. Ha! I’m poet even with my internal thoughts. Lauren the rhyming queen. I should probably get a vanity plate. Of course, that would be too many letters, but maybe I could get a T-shirt or something. Or better yet, a magnet. I shake my head and glance at Jack. He is melting me with his gorgeous blue eyes. They are like an ocean and every time I look into them, I fall into Marianas trench. Deeper and deeper.
“Okay, but what about my list?” I squeeze his biceps. They are like boulders. I want to climb all around his muscular curves. I love how solid he is, being in the crux of his arms. Maybe I do want this, this permanent piece of heaven.
“We can pick up things on the way back, I don’t want to be late to get her. She is a real stickler about punctuality. I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t take a swipe with her cane at me, if we are even a minute late.” Jack embraces me like he heard some good news and he is happy to share it with me. This is the type of feeling where if a business could bottle it and sell it, they would be Google-rich. I’m happy to have my own bottle. One I don’t have to share Jack with anyone. Except I guess in a few hours, I will be sharing Jack…with his aunt.
***
It’s sunset as we pull into the airport parking lot. Jack opts for the close-by parking. We have already discussed the possibility of picking up his aunt at the passenger pick-up lane and he said “absolutely not”. I’m not sure if it is because he thinks it would be messed up or if his aunt would find it to be improper. Either way, the conversation came to a crashing halt. Jack finds a somewhat decent parking spot near a pole. He glides into the spot and does not hit it, unlike some other people I know. We meet at the back of the car and immediately our hands find each other, like a pair of lost socks reunited at the laundry mat.
We stride into the airport terminal with conviction. But it’s mostly Jack, I’m gliding through with Jack leading the way. I would rather find a cozy spot to kiss like teenagers alone and not be meeting one of Jack’s family members right now. I want Jack all to myself.
We make it to Terminal C and see an older woman with salt and pepper colored hair crouched over a gray cat. Next to the cat is a tan suitcase and a cane. Jack stops for a second as he takes in the situation. He drops my hand and strides towards the woman.
“Aunt Minnie, are you okay?” Jack rubs the woman’s shoulder gently, as if he is trying not to startle her.
“Well for heaven’s sake, Jack, of course I’m okay. The better question is, are you okay?” The woman grabs onto Jack’s arm with one hand and swipes up the cat with another. The cat seems to struggle a bit, like it isn’t sure if it wants to be held by this woman or anyone for that matter, it seems feral. I stand still in the spot where Jack dropped my hand, like there is a glass wall. One I can’t get past. I can’t move in closer. Except this isn’t true, but I don’t want to intrude on their reunion.
“Yes, mam, I’m great. What’s the situation with the feline?” Jack nods down at the cat. It’s now nuzzling up next to Aunt Minnie’s neck. She is dressed in a tan tweed suit with a mint-green sweater. On her head sits a small beige hat. The cat has found the only inch of bare skin and is smelling it. They are the epitome of a linked couple, like they’ve been together since the cat took its first breath.
“Oh this poor thing was just wandering around crying and I thought to myself, I can’t let this little orphan be all alone, especially not over Christmas.” She nuzzles it closer, giving it a small kiss on the head.
“So it’s not one of your cats?” Jack has an eyebrow raised.
“Well, what is that supposed to mean? Of course it is one of my cats,
all cats deserve to belong to someone. I can’t imagine the person who just dropped off this beautiful creature and at an airport no less. Thank goodness I found him and we can take him with us.” Aunt Minnie nods. Jack glances back at me, studying my expression. I’m not sure if he wants me to speak up against the cat or what, but I remain silent and still, like a statue. A statue who is standing alone waiting for her boy— is he my boyfriend, I mean I guess? Boyfriend sounds silly, not man-friend, yuck. Man-friend sounds weird. My guy. Yes, my guy to make a move.
“Aunt Minnie, there is someone I want you to meet.” Jack waves me over. I take a deep breath and timidly approach them, almost as if I am walking across an ice-covered pond and I don’t want to fall in.
“What was that, Jack?” Aunt Minnie’s eyes are focused on the cat, I am invisible in her world. Maybe if I were dressed as a cat, I would get some recognition and I might be able to hide how insecure I’m feeling at this moment.
“Aunt Minnie, this is Lauren Hauser, my…” Jack glances at me with hesitation. Is it because he thinks the title of “girlfriend” is silly too? Or is it because he doesn’t view me in this way. What? Of course he views me that way.
“Your what?” Aunt Minnie is casting some serious shade at me. She must realize I’m not a bad person or something, right?
“My…Well, right now I guess the title of girlfriend would be correct, however, this title seems like such an understatement as I view Lauren in such a serious light.” Jack’s blue eyes are shining down on me and my legs feel like they are giving out because my heart is too heavy - it’s going to make a huge crater hole in the airport floor. I grab onto his arm for support. I’m better holding onto him. My chest rises and falls and I steal a glance at Aunt Minnie. She does not appear to be happy.
“Is that so?” She strokes the cat’s head. The cat is glaring at me like it doesn’t like me either. What is the deal? Am I sending off bad vibes to both of them? I mean, I did put on a bit too much perfume this morning, but I think it’s not as strong now. What other reason could these two be so anti-Lauren? I cast my eyes up at Jack. He is lovingly staring back at me.
“Yes, very much so.” Jack squeezes me in close.
Aunt Minnie clears her throat. “How long have you two known each other?” She cocks her head to the right and glares at me with inspecting teacher eyes. The kind of peering-over-the-large-desk stares I used to get in the third grade while talking to my friend Lanette instead of paying attention to the chapter in my social studies book.
“We met over Thanksgiving.” Jack happily dispenses information, totally oblivious to his aunt’s critical glances in my direction.
“Oh my, this Thanksgiving?” Aunt Minnie jerks her head back.
“Yes, we met at Tibor’s Farm, we were both in pursuit of pecans.” Jack pulls my hand up to his lips and kisses them.
“Jack, for heaven’s sake you are in public, please get a hold of yourself.” Aunt Minnie shakes her head.
“Aunt Minnie, you’re such a firecracker.” Jack kisses my head.
“Well, all right, that’s enough of that, let’s get to the car, where did you park?” Aunt Minnie begins marching towards the glass doors. Ignoring the other travelers and pushing past them as if she were a linebacker for a college football team and not some feeble old lady with a cane and cat. Jack reaches for her suitcase with one hand and links my arm with his other hand, gliding through the travelers like he is winning a maze game. We finally reach his aunt, who is still holding onto the stray cat.
“Does the cat have a collar?” Jack asks, peering over her shoulder, probably hoping to find a collar or some sort of owner identification. I know this is what I’d be looking for.
“Jack, do you need your hearing checked? I told you the cat was a stray. A stray means no collar, no owner, probably no life, if we hadn’t have found him.” She kisses the cat again. There is a purring sound. I’m not sure if it’s from Aunt Minnie or the cat.
Jack nods. “We parked over here, in aisle ten.” Jack points with his chin in the direction of the car. We proceed in silence to the car, other than the random purring, which I’m still not sure if it’s coming from the cat or Aunt Minnie. Jack clicks his car remote and pops the trunk and slides Aunt Minnie’s suitcase in. His lips form two solid lines as his eyes go and back and forth between the cat and Aunt Minnie. Aunt Minnie is oblivious to his eye flitters, her focus is on the feline. Jack opens the door to the back seat. “Here you go, Aunt Minnie.”
Aunt Minnie breaks her moment with the cat and glances up at Jack with a furrowed brow.
“Jack, I most certainly will not sit in the back. You know how I get motion sickness.” She shakes her head and a few white and gray strands swish off her brow and then fall back into place.
“All right then.” He casts his eyes in my direction. Without a word I settle into the back seat and smile. This ought to be a fun road trip.
Aunt Minnie clears her throat as she slides into her seat in the front. The cat who had remained attached to her chest jumps free and hops in the back seat. It cuddles into Jack’s coat and closes its eyes.
Perfect, it’s going to take a nap. Go to sleep, little cat. Aunt Minnie stares back at me with what most people would refer to as the “evil eye”. I’m not sure why, I haven’t done anything wrong yet I have this guilty tugging sensation from my chest, like I didn’t turn in my homework on time or something and it’s been years since I needed to turn in any assignments. Well, almost three years, but why is she giving me these “death stares”?
After Jack closes Aunt Minnie’s door, he taps on my window and winks at me and mouths the word “fun”. I nod as if I’m agreeing with him. Jack slides into the driver’s seat and starts the car. We exit the airport parking lot and pull out onto the access road where we end up at a red light. I take my phone out of my purse and check the time. It’s almost five o’clock. Here we are again, running out of time before the stores close. Over Thanksgiving, Jack and I were in the same predicament, of me needing to get the final ingredients for my family’s pecan pie. Now, here I am wanting to prepare this cranberry relish, and I’m running out of time. I know the store will be closing early on Christmas Eve, especially the liquor store. And I need Grand Marnier. I click on my photos to check out the recipe again.
Cranberries, sugar, and orange, all of which I’m sure my mom has other than the cranberries, I’ve got those covered. The last ingredient I have to get is the Grand Marnier. I don’t think it’s a big deal about the liquor, and I know my family won’t flit and eyelash in fact they will probably be excited about it and scrape the bottoms of the bowl. However, I’m not getting a liquor loving or enjoying on rare occasion vibe from Aunt Minnie. She is already giving me the “stink eye” as my mom would call it and I don’t want to cause her eyes to bulge out from anger over the suggestion of stopping by a liquor store.
The reality is, however, along with most of the stores, any liquor store that is still open will be closing its doors very soon and I don’t want to skip on any ingredients for Tyler Florence’s special cranberry relish. Especially now, as I think I might be spending more time with Aunt Minnie. I might be taking a few sips while I’m making it to help calm myself in her presence.
I swallow hard and speak up without clearing my throat.
“Jack, did you remember which store we need to stop by?” I raise my eyebrows, hoping he will remember and I won’t have to go into detail.
“Store, what store? Jack, please don’t tell me you haven’t finished your Christmas shopping. That’s rather poor planning, don’t you think?” Aunt Minnie tsks. I stifle a laugh, as I remember over Thanksgiving Jack had accused me of this very thing. Being a poor planner. I had been rather irritated at him then, but now it makes me smile and wish for the moment when we were in the car alone together. Not in this stressful situation where the tension is ridiculously tight I could cut it with a dull butter knife. I blow out some of my own tension through my lips.
“No, Aunt Min
nie, I got all mine tackled a while ago. We actually have to stop for Lauren. She needs a few things for a recipe she is making for Christmas dinner.” Jack meets my eyes in the rear-view window. I smile at him. Thankful, he didn’t mention exactly what ingredients I need, but she will soon figure it out when we pull up to whichever liquor store we can find open.
“Oh really, Lauren, you’re a cook? What are you making?” Aunt Minnie turns her head so we can stare directly at each other.
“I’m making Tyler Florence’s cranberry relish recipe.” I beam at her, hoping she might be a fan of cranberries and maybe even Tyler Florence. I mean, who wouldn’t be?
“Tyler who?” Aunt Minnie wrinkles her eyebrows at me.
“Tyler Florence, he’s a celebrity chef, like a male version of Betty Crocker.” Jack laughs.
Not exactly how I would describe him, but okay. And it did get Aunt Minnie to turn around. I twist one of my pieces of hair that has fallen over my shoulder and sigh.
“How interesting.” Aunt Minnie says.
“Yes, Lauren is quite the chef herself. You should have been here for Thanksgiving, her pecan pie is mighty tasty.” Jack glances in the rear-view window again and winks at me.
My cheeks are warm. I wish we were alone and I was sitting in the front seat. Not the back seat with the cat. Who has now decided to wake up. The cat is giving me a similar look to Aunt Minnie. Is it really possible for the cat to have bonded with Aunt Minnie in such a short period of time it is now able to produce the same “I don’t like you look”? Is this even possible? I mean, I have heard of pets looking like their owners, seen the meme and all that good stuff. But Aunt Minnie just “rescued” this cat, I didn’t think it happened that fast for the looks and appearance to meld. But then again, what do I know, I’m a plant person. And I’m good at it. I’ve had some plants for over ten years. Some of my plants were with me in my high school days. Plants I have acquired in some really wonderful moments and continued to nurture them and, here I am, several years after college and they are still plenty green. Though I do worry about them on my long family stays. Will they make it? Will they be sad? I know I could ask Mrs. Mullins, but I just feel like asking her would involve more than a checkup…but rather an inspection of my life and my things. And I’m not ready for that. If I die at this point, Brianna has special notes about how to handle things. Go through all of my Internet history - clear all of it. Then I have a special plan written up for my funeral. I know…I get it. It’s grim, but it’s realistic. And I think when I die the people who are left to handle things will appreciate the fact that I have written notes down and given tips on how I want things to go.