by M. K. Claeys
Ryn snorted. “God, Mitzy, and you call us disgusting?” I shrugged. “All this time you’ve been holding your creative genius out on us, haven’t you?”
We made our way through the caf’ and back to our usual table in the corner by the window, but not soon enough to not notice the guy who Rae had dubbed Creepy Cafeteria Boy taking two of the Spam patties and putting them on buns with lettuce, tomato, and mayo.
“You think his dad made a huge contribution to the university or something, and that’s why they keep serving that crap?” asked Rae.
“I don’t know,” replied Ryn, “but he looks happy. Let him eat the Spam if it means I don’t have to.”
“Cheers to that, y’all,” I said, raising my glass. We clinked and settled down to our meal.
“So y’all got any plans for spring break?” I asked.
Rae shook her head. “It’s really too far to go all the way home. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. Play it by ear, I guess. Maybe I’ll just play guitar for a week straight.”
Ryn swallowed her mouthful of ravioli. “I’m staying here,” she said, somewhat forlornly. “I’m really behind, so I’m hoping to use the time with no distractions to catch up. My parents offered to come get me, but I told them not to bother. Going home means that Brian will be around, and that is definitely a distraction I don’t need.”
I nodded sympathetically. “I can’t blame you, darlin’. I wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole. What did you say his new girlfriend’s name was?”
“Catherine.”
Rae dropped her spoon. “You’re not serious, are you, Ryn?” Ryn nodded. “That’s so creepy!”
“I know,” she moaned. “As if the fact that she’s the complete opposite of me isn’t bad enough, she has to go and have the same name.”
“Talk about red flags all over the place screaming I’m not over you!” Rae said, waving her arms wildly in the air.
“For real. So, yeah. I’m staying here, where it will be nice and monotonous with nothing to bother me from my schoolwork. I’m even turning off the wireless on my computer so I won’t be tempted to surf the internet or go on social media. I’m serious this time. I’m not having another academic episode like last semester.”
“Aw, Ryn, don’t be too hard on yourself,” I insisted. “Your grades weren’t that bad! It’s only expected that the majority of college freshman will do horribly in one class or another.”
“Thanks, Mitz, but really. I need to get serious if I want to stay here. I mean, there’s nothing at home to tempt me to leave, that’s for sure, but it’s going to be tough to work my way back up into the dean’s good graces.” She paused in a moment of reflection. “Actually, I think not having Brian calling me every five minutes will only be a positive factor on my study habits.”
“Seriously,” concurred Rae, adding liberal amounts of salt and pepper to her Viscount of Vindelou. “You used to sweat when he called, and your hands would start shaking. That boy was nothing but bad news if merely the sound of his ring tone made you have a panic attack.”
“True. But I’ve deleted his number out of my phone, as well as the ring tone. So there will be no panic attacks or near panic attacks over spring break while I study. Unless my books start spontaneously singing “Iron Butterfly.”
“So what are you doing for spring break, Mitzy?” asked Rae once we finally got over our fit of giggles.
And it wasn’t only over what Ryn had said. Creepy Cafeteria Boy had taken the bun off his Spam patty and started licking off the mayo.
“Well, that’s just it,” I began, hoping they wouldn’t think my idea was completely off the wall. “I was planning on going home for the week, and my mama and papa said I could invite you guys to come visit.”
“Seriously?” asked Ryn, her eyes wide.
“Mitzy, do you realize what you just said?” cried Rae.
“Sure. I invited my best friends to come and spend the week with me. It’s only a natural thing you do with your girlfriends, right?”
“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I meant!”
“What are you talking about, Rae?” I asked, puzzled.
“You said ‘mah mama ahyund papa said Aah could invaahte you guys to come viihsiit’. Think about it!”
“Oh, my Lord! I did say that, didn’t I?”
Ryn laughed aloud, snorting her Coke. “We’ve finally corrupted you! You’ll be a northerner yet, just you wait, Mitzy Callaway.”
I laughed with them. “Really, though, y’all can come, if yer hankering for a vacation.”
“I really, really want to, Mitzy,” Ryn sighed, “but I think if I’m going to stick with my plan, then I’m going to have to turn down this cruel, cruel temptation. I might hate myself forever if I don’t go, but if I flunk out of college, I know I’ll hate myself forever.”
“I understand, Ryn, and as much as I want you to come, ‘Responsible Mitzy’ thinks you’re making the right decision.”
“Yeah, well, ‘Radical Ryn’ is kicking herself under the table right now.”
“No worries, Ryn,” said Rae, patting her arm. “We’ll take lots of digital pictures and photoshop you into them when we get back. And we’ll Snapchat. It will be like you were there the whole time.”
“Yeah, and there’s always next year,” I offered, “or the summer. You’ll always be welcome.”
“Thanks, guys. I’ll call you when I’m starting to be unable to resist the temptation to turn back on the wireless.
“So you’ll come, though, Rae?” I asked, trying not to get my hopes up.
“Wouldn’t miss it, Mitz.” She grinned. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to distract Ryn with all my wonderful Facebook posts of cat memes.”
“Oh, shut up, will you?” cried Ryn, launching a peeled grape from her fruit salad at her roommate.
Three days later, Rae and I were on the road together in her little blue Dodge. It worked out rather well, actually. Since Rae was coming, we could drive her car and my parents didn’t have to come get us. Mama and Bobby had both offered to come pick us up at Aunty Jo’s, but Rae insisted on driving—she thought a road trip would be fun and didn’t want to inconvenience anyone.
And Jamaal thought that I was the only one who knew a thing or two about Southern Hospitality.
I drove to Aunty Jo’s Thursday afternoon after Rae and I finished class—and after a semi-tearful goodbye with Ryn. We tried to ask her one more time if she wouldn’t reconsider joining us—I had offered her her own room she could shut herself in—but to no avail. She cut off our pleas and begged us not to ask again, for fear she’d go back on her promise to herself. That girl could be as stubborn as a bull.
So it was Rae and I for the week, and I was excited. It thrilled me to be able to share my home with one of my new friends and make them part of my family. Aunty Jo stuffed us silly with chicken and mashed potatoes, and we taught Rae how to play spades. We hit the hay rather late, but Rae was up before even me the next morning.
“Come on, Mitzy, let’s go! I can’t wait to see where you live!”
“Raaaeeee,” I mumbled, “’smatter? Sleepum!”
“No way, Mitzy Callaway! Your lovely aunt has even lovelier coffee brewing downstairs—I can smell it—and she promised us cinnamon rolls. You want me to go down without you and bring you something up?”
I rolled over, quick as lightning, and smacked her full in the face with my pillow. “Gotcha!” I cried.
“Mitzy! You are so dead!”
After an awakening pillow fight, we made our way downstairs to breakfast and managed to make it out the door by nine.
“Thank you very much for the hospitality, Mrs. Miller,” said Rae graciously, sticking out her hand for my aunt to shake, but Aunty Jo just laughed and pulled her into a hug.
“We’re very informal here, dear, but you’re very welcome. Come back any time, as long as you call me Jo.”
Rae grinned. “Thanks, Jo. I appreciate everything.”
I leaned in f
or a hug. “Thank you, Aunty Jo. We’ll call when we get there.”
After six hours of the Alphabet Game, singing to random ’90s songs on Rae’s phone and a stop at a “Mystery Spot” in Kentucky, we pulled into my driveway and I was finally home. Mama met us on the porch with one hand on her now-showing belly and the other holding a wooden spoon.
“Hi, sugar! I wasn’t expecting you until almost dinnertime. You must be Rae,” she said, sticking her hand out for Rae to shake, but Rae knew better by now and pulled my mama right in for a hug.
“Thanks for having me, Mrs. Callaway, or am I supposed to—”
“Call me Bonnie, dear, that’s right. My sister taught you well, I see. You’ll fit right in here, whether you’ll have us or not.”
Rae beamed.
“Well, come in, come in! Emma, Caroline, and Billy are at school, but they’ll be home in a few hours. Would y’all like lunch?”
I’d warned Rae in advance to expect a full spread, so we hadn’t stopped on the way.
“I’d love some. Can we help you set the table?”
Mama laughed. “Oh, no, dear, I’ve got it all under control. You just go grab your bags, and I’ll be ready when you come back in.”
I led Rae back to the car and saw Bobby there already, pulling our bags out from the backseat for us.
“Hey, Mitz, I got your bags for you!”
“Hey!” I yelled, running up to him with a smile. He pulled me into a hug and spun me around. “It’s great to see you!” I said as he set me down. “Rae, I’d like you to meet my—”
“Robert,” he said, stepping forward, removing his baseball cap, and offering her his hand. “Mitzy’s brother. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
I turned back to the porch, hoping against hope that my mama had just seen that. She had. We raised our eyebrows at one another but didn’t peep a word at Bobby’s sudden display of gentlemanly manners nor his introduction using his full first name.
I’ve never seen Bobby act like that with any girl. This week is bound to be interesting.
Rae took it all in stride. I guessed she must have just assumed that this was the way all Southern men greeted a lady. I hoped that impression stuck. I didn’t want her to change anything about herself, like a lot of girls will do when they meet a guy. Rae was perfect just the way she was, and I knew my family would love her. If Bobby wanted to give her a little extra attention, that was fine by me. I knew I could trust my own brother to treat her right…unlike Brad the jerk. And it would sure make Mama happy to see Bobby smitten with any girl. Over Christmas she’d started to worry that he’d turn into a hermit.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Robert. Thanks for the gift you gave Mitzy last fall and again at Christmas. It certainly came in handy.”
Bobby smiled and replaced his ball cap. “You’re welcome. I’m glad she found some nice people to share it with. Here, let me get your bags, girls. You just go on back inside, Mitz. Don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you, Robert,” said Rae, turning back to walk toward the house again.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said, biting my tongue on the desire to add a “Robert” on the end.
Mama had of course set up a lunch that was hearty enough to be a supper, just like I expected her to. Mama overcooking was something that was always counted on in the Callaway family. Grandmamma Jameson had been the same way.
“So, do you think we’ll have time for you to show me your house before dinner?” asked Rae as she politely accepted the second helping of potato salad Mama pressed on her. “I mean, seriously, Mitz, it’s huge! The pictures just don’t do it justice.” I laughed.
“There’ll be plenty of time,” I insisted, and then I turned to smirk at Bobby. “Robert can show you the hayloft, if you’d like. Emma, Caroline, and Billy like to swing from a rope down into the hay, but I won’t go.”
Rae nodded. “Right. I don’t imagine you would. Do you mind, Robert?”
“Not at all,” he replied, completely brushing off my poke of fun. “Mitzy can show you everything else while I help Mama clean up here, and then I’ll take you while she helps Mama set for dinner.”
I took Rae on the grand tour, and although I didn’t get in costume, I did show her all my antebellum-style dresses and even let her try on my yellow ball gown. “Aw, Rae, you look like Belle from Beauty and the Beast!”
“Shut up, do I really?”
“Really! I’m getting the camera.”
We went through the ballroom, study, library, parlor, cellar, servants’ quarters, master’s chambers, mistress’s chambers, men’s cigar lounge, and ladies’ tearoom.
“God, Mitzy, I can’t believe you grew up here! It’s so amazing.”
“You really think so?”
“How could I not? Honestly, I’ll remember this day forever.”
“Are you ready for the hayloft, Rae?” asked Bobby, meeting us in the tearoom. “Or are you too scared?”
Rae lifted her chin and smoothed her skirt. “I’m not scared of anything.” She rotated on the spot, looking confused. “Just tell me which door to go out of, and I’m so there.”
I laughed. “Not like that, you’re not. You’d better put on jeans. Bobby will meet you in the kitchen. The back door there is the closest to the barn.”
I left her to get changed and went back downstairs to help Mama in the kitchen. Ten minutes later, I heard Rae’s voice faintly from upstairs.
“Mitzy? I think I’m lost.”
“What color is the room you’re in?” yelled Bobby from the hallway as Mama and I fought back a snicker.
“Um, yellow.”
“Are you facing the door?”
“No, the closet.”
“Okay. Turn around and walk directly opposite the closet toward the wall. Are you there?”
“Yes…”
“See the white mantel above the fireplace?”
“The what?”
“The mantel!” the three of us yelled, simultaneously.
“Jeez, yeah, okay, I see it.”
“Feel underneath it and when you come to a knothole, push it,” instructed Bobby.
“What knot—holy shi—I mean, crap! I take it I walk down these stairs, right?”
“Right,” said Bobby, moving over to the kitchen wall and opening the hidden door. “Hello, Rae, nice of you to join us.”
“Whoa. That was the absolute coolest thing I have ever seen. Can I do it again?”
By that time, my other brother and sisters had arrived home from school. We made introductions all around, and then Billy took Rae on a private tour of the passageways and showed her all the secret doors in the house. She was flabbergasted and made him show her each one twice, in vain hopes she’d remember them all later.
“Well, after that, I don’t think the hayloft will be very exciting,” said Bobby.
“No way!” Rae disagreed. “I’m not missing a single part of this house, so let’s go!”
“I don’t know. I don’t really feel like it now. If you can’t even find your way downstairs, what makes you think you can find your way down from the loft?”
“Robert Callaway, if I didn’t know any better, which, come to think of it, I don’t, I would say you were scared.”
“Excuse me?” asked Bobby, his eyes widening in genuine surprise.
“You heard me. You’re scared. I don’t know what about—probably that I’ll be able to swing higher than you or something equally stupid. So are you backing out? I’m sure Billy will show me, won’t you, Bill?” said Rae, shooting my baby brother a winning smile that would have melted any man’s heart, not to mention an impressionable boy’s. Billy didn’t know any girls other than his sisters, and we still treated him like he was five.
“Sure I will, Rae,” piped up Billy, grabbing Rae’s hand and preparing to drag her out the door.
Oh, Lord, if I didn’t watch it, I might end up with two brothers smitten with my friend.
“You’re on, little lady,” said B
obby, grabbing Rae’s other hand and pulling her toward the back door. “Let’s go.”
Billy had wanted to go with them, but Mama made him stay in the kitchen with us. “You said you wanted to learn how to make pumpkin pies, honey, so Mama will show you tonight. Now go wash up!”
Billy ran off, leaving Mama and I alone. “I wasn’t the only one who saw that, was I, Mama?”
“No, sugar, you weren’t. I think Bobby might have found someone that will challenge him, finally. Rae’s a spitfire, and she’s exactly the kind of girl, friend or otherwise, that Bobby needs to have around. She’ll drive him to his goals like none of us could.”
“Maybe,” I countered, pulling the ingredients for biscuits from the pantry. “But maybe Bobby is just the kind of guy, friend or otherwise, who will finally show Rae how a gentleman is supposed to treat a lady.”
“I take it she’s been burned, then?”
“Oh yeah, Mama. Real bad. But she learned and pulled her hand away from the stove before another pot could get her a second time. In fact, because of her, I don’t think that particular pot will ever scald another woman.”
“Well, good for her, sugar. But what about you, baby? I’ve heard you mention a boy a few times in your phone conversations since Christmas, and don’t lie—your mama always knows—you were talking to him for hours on end over the holidays.”
“I was, Mama, and I still am. This boy’s different. He treats me like every other girl, and he’s not intimidated by intelligence.”
“So?”
“So, I don’t know, Mama. We’ll see what happens, but I think this one will be around for life…”
“Friend or otherwise,” we chimed and then went back to dinner.
22
Auraelia
My first impression when I’d pulled up to Mitzy’s house was something like Good God Almighty, what have I gotten myself into? But her family made me feel right at home, as if they lived like everyone else did.
And not in a frickin’ mansion!
Mitzy looked just like her mom, and I can see she’ll age really well. I mean, they say that you can tell what a girl will look like in thirty years by looking at her mom, and while I’ll never have that comparison problem, Mitzy should be jumping for joy. I think her mom’s really pretty, even with the pregnancy belly. Actually, it’s almost like because of the pregnancy belly. She just looks all sweet and motherly, like she’s going to bake you a pie or something.