Still wound in towels Maydene opened the steam to the rest of the house's upstairs floor. Small, strong arms wrapped around her, In bare feet the four year old was already chin height. "Is that your truck on the road? We almost crashed into it on the way home. Have you a license to drive now? Oh I am so happy to see you. Will you stay the night? Longer maybe. Oh say you'll stay."
Squeezing back, Maydene flopped on the threshold of the room, taking her grand niece in as the steam seemed to fold them into whatever events were well on their way. "So many many questions. Wee one, who is not quite as wee as you used to be."
"Have you Aunty May?"
"Have I ...."
"Got a license to drive now."
"Of course I don't have a license. Who is it that needs to know I drive an old truck like Olympia?" The girl wasn't sure she had an answer to fit her great aunt's question. But, she did know rules weren't particularly important when it came to Aunt May. She'd heard her father say so on more than one occasion. At some point, the reason for rules would become important but maybe, not tonight. Or, maybe, it was just the night to consider rules.
"Oh, it makes no matter mind, does it! Aunty May we have company. Downstairs."
"Can I meet them in my towels you think?"
Larkin just laughed and pulled at the woman's hands.
Update starts here ...
The package of people filled the small kitchen, spilled into the living area. May was deft at costuming, and pulled the now-dry cape about her. The towels unwound easily, and her short hair was already dry. "Maydene. That is your truck. Thought so." Daniel wobbled on an edge of attitude somewhere not quite as near to resentment ... Time had done its work applying forgiveness. The tinker and mender was surprised at how glad he was to see the little woman.
Maydene looked for all the world at that moment to be a Judi Dench double. She spoke to Daniel. Her accent stronger than he remembered, "Am I still on your shit list?" Precisely the sort of words you'd expect from Dame Judi, and May. She had such guts. "Maybe not," Daniel accepted her outreached arms, smelled roses and wished the rules for life would stay nailed down. "Thank you Dan."
"And who are you?" Maydene let her hand rest on Daniel's hand for a moment, no longer, before turning to meet the eyes of the company. Four eyes returned her gaze. The boy was at least a head taller than she, and the girl was still respectfully child-size.
"I'm Pat O'Neil, and this is my sister Caitlin. My mom's just outside in the car. Her name's Peg. We saw a truck parked in front of the first speed bump. Someone must have run out of gas or something."
"Very clever boy. I did run out of gas, and that old truck her name's Olympia is mine. How do you do." Maydene extended her hand.
"You're British aren't ya?" It was Caitlin. "You sound like those people Mom loves to watch on TV. They're British."
"Another clever young person. Three of you in one tiny cottage on a Hallow's Eve. Oh what fun this will be. Yes, I am British and you are not!" Her voice and her comments surprised the children. They were mesmerized. Calypso hoped her sister was not casting spells with her voice.
The door opened. "Look who I found. Nearly drowned by the look of it. Poor thing. Anyone allergic? Can I bring it in?" Peg O'Neil was tucked under a big checked umbrella with an armful of wet long-haired cat. Calypso inhaled deeply, lifted the lid of the soup and sipped on the small cup of warmed apple brandy.
That would be number four. The party began in earnest.
Next.
* This segment was inspired by a morning romp on the internet. Following the scent of Gloria Steinem's most recent memoir, "On the Road" I ended up reading this Seattle Times interview, I discovered: "I don't drive!"
No comments:
Post a Comment