Drizzled with Death(57)

“My little discovery. What about you? Did you already know about the two of them?” I sat upright on the couch. If anything, the situation was getting even worse. Was it possible members of my family knew about this all along and deliberately decided to keep it from me? Celadon dragged her hands along the walls until she encountered a light switch. Leave it to her to make an already difficult situation even more unpleasant. My eyes were bleary from all the crying and the light only made them sting even more. At least she had the grace to look a bit sheepish before pulling on her indignant mask and going on the offensive.

“As a matter of fact, I did. I encouraged it even. After all, both of them have been missing the same man. Who better to understand that aching spot than each other?”

“I don’t want to hear another word about Mom consoling her aching spots with Dad’s best friend. And I don’t want to hear anything else from you either. I can’t believe you knew about this and didn’t tell me.” I felt another sob trying to burble to the top of my throat, but I didn’t let it. It was a nice catch, I can tell you, considering how little distance there is to travel along my very short neck.

“They’re both grown people entitled to a little happiness. It would do you some good to grow up, too. Do you think any of us have liked keeping this from you?”

“Any of us? Does everyone else know?” I felt even sicker. I would never have thought my grandparents would be in on something like this. After all, Dad was their son. “Did all the rest of you know about this?”

“Everyone except the children.”

“So I’m still one of the children?” It was something I had struggled with all my life. Every family has a way of behaving; everyone has a role to play no matter how much time has gone by. The mother’s helper, the Goody Two-shoes, the athlete, the black sheep, all continue throughout life when spending time with family. In mine, I’m the baby and everyone else tells me stuff last, trusts me least to act like an adult, ladens me with unsolicited advice. This was the most egregious example, but I had been almost surprised that anyone had even told me about my father’s death and hadn’t tried to keep it from me thinking it was grown-up business.

“Maybe if you didn’t act like one most of the time, you wouldn’t get treated that way. What you need is to grow up, find a husband, and take your place in the town like the rest of us.”

“So that’s what you think?”

“It is. Which is why I invited that passably attractive man from the Fish and Game Department to come to the house for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“You what?” My stomach began pulsing with a low dull ache.

“And of course, Knowlton will be there so you should have a bidding war on your hands if everything goes well.” Celadon dug around in her purse and pulled out her keys.

“I’m not for sale.”

“Yes you are, and since women don’t fetch higher prices when they become antiques, we need to get you pawned off on someone before your value slips even more.” I found myself in the unique position of being perceived as an aging baby.

“Is that what Mom is doing? Selling out before her value slips?”

“Our mother doesn’t need to prove herself. She has a family and a position in society. The problem here is you.”

“The problem is an outdated worldview. In case you hadn’t noticed, in this century women are valued for more than their ability to snag a man and crank out some offspring. I’m perfectly happy just as I am.” Celadon cocked an eyebrow at me and clucked her tongue.

“Your bloodshot eyes tell a very different story. Get yourself together and get on home before I tell Grandma you were not willing to try to resolve this with Mom.” Celadon knew how to pull out the big guns. No one wanted to get tattled on to Grandma. And no one wanted to be the one to do the tattling either. The consequences were almost as steep to be the one carrying tales. It had better be a good one if you were planning to share it with her, or she would shame you for being evil to your sibling. I was counting on this to work in my favor when I answered. There was no way I was heading home right now.

“I’ll get home when I am good and ready. You tell anyone you want, anything you want. I’m not leaving.”

“Suit yourself then. You be the one to deal with the consequences of worrying your mother sick and throwing the rest of the household into a tizzy at the busiest time of the year.”

“It’s only the busiest time of the year because all of you make it be that way. All your Christmas crap is purely optional.”