not yet. You'll get a special chapter now, Gretchen. The recovered drunk. We're all so proud of you.”
“You're the one acting like you should be in a twelve-step program,” Tom shot bitterly from the end of the table. “What the hell's gotten into you?”
“Oh, I just am so proud of my boy. I want you all to know what a big success his next book is going to be, isn't it, sweetheart? Write a really big one and you'll hardly need your mom anymore, isn't that right?”
Aubrey's face tensed in anger, his brow furrowing hard. “Mom, don't-”
“Yes, Gretchen shall have her own chapter, unless she falls off the wagon, in which case she'll get two. And of course Philip and Tom each merit a chapter for a thorough discussion of just how different twins can be. Or are they?” The twins reacted differently: Philip with an indulgent smile and Tom with a frosty stare.
“Let's not forget Uncle Jake. How about a chapter on old farts who don't do a single kind thing in their lives?”
“Write about yourself, then, Miss Sass,” Uncle Jake retorted, unshaken by Sass's swipe.
I felt an acrid taste creep into my mouth. Something was terribly wrong here. This wasn't teasing, either from Lolly or Sass. This was verbal flogging, pure and simple. And the rest of them appeared to endure the whip. I couldn't see for the life of me why.
Perhaps Sass saw the revulsion on my face. “Bob Don and Jordan certainly rate a discussion, don't you think, dear? The long-suffering father and the unsuspecting son. It's so charming. Perhaps they can join you on Oprah when you tour for the book. Brothers and bastards, that makes for a good episode.” She laughed at her own joke. “Brothers. Rich, isn't it, Bob Don?”
“Stop it.” Lolly sipped at her red wine again. “You're terrible. You're making me feel ill with all these histrionics.”
“Are you quite done, Cecilia?” Bob Don asked, his voice low and implacable. “Just hush now, you're drunk and you're embarrassing yourself terribly. You and Aunt Lolly both should be ashamed of how you've acted this evening.”
I glanced down at Uncle Mutt; after all, he did seem to be the family patriarch and I expected a thundering fist on the table to demand dignity and decency at dinner. He sat back, rubbing one cheek with his disfigured hand. He didn't seem inclined to stop Sass's rave; I wasn't even sure he was listening to her; he seemed lost in his own world of thought. I'd abandoned all plans to produce the hate mail; the time was inopportune, and the tension in the air already smothering.
At least one of us tired of the tirades. Deborah dabbed at her lips with her napkin, murmured “Excuse me,” and stood. Sass watched her and I saw her face darken in regret. “Deb, hon, I'm sorry-” Sass began, then her voice faltered.
Deborah had not taken three steps toward the door when Lolly's words struck like a child's stone, cruelly thrown.
“And of course, we can't forget our darling Deborah. While you're compiling chapters, Sass, you should add a whole book of them for Deb. There's simply so much ground to cover with her. Let's see, Aubrey could talk about the family ingrate, or the family basket case, or the family embarrassment-or the family slut.” And for one brief second Lolly's eyes lit on Gretchen. I saw her smile crookedly for a moment, then she returned her gaze to Deborah. My cousin stood by the door, her fingers trembling in anger on the knob. Her dark eyes glowed with pure hate.
“Stop it!” Aubrey bellowed. He stood and poked a finger into Lolly's face. “How about your chapter? The family tyrant? We're not little kids you can bully anymore. Or the family nut? Sweetie isn't anything but a dog. He's not Uncle Charles come back to life, you pathetic witch.
Because why on earth would Charles come back to vow? The tortures of hell have to be preferable to your company.”
Lolly simply smiled back at him, her grin brittle with rancor. She drew a quivering hand along her brow.
Uncle Mutt finally spoke. “Stop it, Lolly. You, too, Aubrey, and Sass, if you make another sound I'll cut you out of the will.” Uncle Mutt didn't need to yell; the tone of his voice carried its own thunder, and the squabblers fell quiet. Sass pressed fingertips to her eyelids and I wondered if she was already regretting her drunken outburst.
“Aubrey, write all you want about dys-whatever families. I don't give a green shit. But I forbid you to write a word about anyone sitting at this table. You understand me, boy?”
Aubrey stared back at our great-uncle. “Who's playing the family bully now. Uncle Mutt? You can't tell me what to do in my career-”
Uncle Mutt exploded. “Y'all are like a bunch of kids bickering amongst yourselves-unruly, contentious little brats.” I took umbrage at being called names-I for one had not raised my voice or done one thing untoward. But I kept my silence. “And now I got to tell all y'all how to act before I leave the room.” He stood and stared down the table at the upturned faces, and for a moment I didn't doubt we resembled children-we all hung on his words. “And I'm leaving the room forever.”
Silence fell like the guillotine's blade. I heard the hollow, whispering shudder of Aunt Lolly breathing hard next to me. Her rasp grated on my nerves and I glanced back at her; her skin was pale as bone.
Mutt let the quiet play itself out. His gaze carefully came to rest on each of our faces. He gave me a long, considered look of sadness and I felt a thickness coat my throat.
“I'm a dead man, you see,” Uncle Mutt announced. A moment of absolute hush was followed by a guffaw from Aunt Lolly. I can't say she had a hearty titter; but rather it was a giggle of sick disbelief. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, her fingers trembling.
No one else laughed. Deborah sagged against the door.
“What the hell are you talking about, Emmett?” Uncle Jake wheezed. He sat, looking crumpled, in his chair next to Uncle Mutt. The older man put one withered hand over Mutt's, as though to say, Don't joke with me, son.
“Y'all know I ain't one to mince words. I been to the doctors in Houston. I got brain cancer, and it's spreading. I got maybe a few months, that's all. And I ain't gonna have all of y'all bickering and sniping the last time we're together while I'm alive.”
I felt shock and distress at this announcement, but I hadn't known Uncle Mutt my whole life-these people had. I glanced across the table at Bob Don-his face was ashen. I wanted to reach out to him in reassurance, but he was too far down the table. I kept my hands folded in my lap.
“Oh, God, Uncle Mutt-” Bob Don tried, but couldn't speak.
“Oh, Uncle Mutt, no-” Aunt Sass finally seemed speechless; the back of her hand was pressed against her lips and she shot a wild look toward Aubrey, who remained mortally silent. Next to me, Aunt Lolly began to cry. I took her hand, not knowing what else to do. She leaned against my shoulder. She was a spiteful old witch, but she was losing her brother-I couldn't help but sympathize with her.
“Why didn't you tell us before? How long have you known?” Tom Bedrich asked, his voice unchanged.
“For a while.” He smiled at his family. “Now, now, Lolly, don't cry. Y'all needed to know, so I've told you.” Lolly ignored his calm plea for strength; her nails practically dug into my neck as she shuddered with grief.
“What doctors? Where did you go in Houston? We can get a second opinion-” Deborah tried the next level of denial, but it didn't work. Her voice sounded like a weak child's whisper.
“Naw, honey, I been everywhere. I can afford second opinions from every doctor in Houston. I'm plumb MRI- ed out. It ain't gonna change nothing. I just hope God takes me before my mind starts slipping away.” He glanced at Lolly. “As is, I might lose my sight eventually from it. If I last that long.” He then smiled thinly and looked younger than his years. I couldn't help but admire his bravery in light of the circumstances. Mutt was everything Bob Don claimed-a real pistol. If he was afraid of dying, his family would not see it now. The only fear in the room seemed to be our own.
There was a long hush, broken only by Lolly's racked sobbing. She finally pulled away from my shoulder, her face damp with tears. “You'll come back to me, Emmett. I know you will. Just like Charles did. Maybe you'll be a nice kitty for me, or a bird that sings pretty. Promise me you'll come back to me, won't you?”
Uncle Mutt watched his sister with sadness. “I don't know, Lolly. I think I'm nearly ready for a rest. I don't got any complaints about my life-but maybe a little more time would have been nice. Just a little more.” He cleared his throat. “I told Rufus and Wendy already-”
“You told your help before you told us?” Aunt Sass exploded. Her face reddened in anger. “I can't believe you
