“But you can’t just leave me out of the ceremony. I’m family. I’m his family.”
“How could you think we would welcome you to our ceremony,” Bea asked. “Yes, you’re family. You’re also the woman who vilified his mother to him, falsely, for half his life. The first words out of your mouth when you walked over here should have been I’m sorry. To him, and to her.”
“How can you blame me?” Ursula asked. “The evidence…”
“Bullshit!” Francis said, her voice flung at Ursula like a coil of razor wire. “Your lies ruined my life, you bitch. I’d already lost my husband, but you needed to hurt me more.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Ursula said. “It was Dean’s word.” She took a step back, bumping into Hannibal who kept her from falling.
“You put those word into his mouth, you evil woman,” Bea said. Francis’ words seemed to make her bolder. “You should not even think of being in his life.”
Francis said, “I bet you’re sorry I ever got out of that place. Well, you better drag your sorry ass out of here before I do it for you.” She put a foot on the bench between Dean and Bea and, for a moment, Hannibal thought she might go flying across the table at Ursula. The women were not that far apart in age, but Hannibal was sure that Francis could crush her frail sister-in-law under her wheels like an SUV rolling over an empty soda can.
“No.” Dean was not loud, but he spoke with more self-assurance than Hannibal had ever heard from the boy. He stood with one hand on Bea’s shoulder while the other took his mother’s hand. His blue eyes were suddenly very clear despite the softness of his features.
“Mother, all you’ve said is true. But it is also true that when I had no place to go, Aunt Ursula took me in. For some of the most important years of my life, she was all the family I had. You can hate her for things she’s done, but I can’t hate her.”
People were wandering toward the tables, but everyone moved around the circle of silent tension whose boundaries were defined by Hannibal standing on one side and Dean on the other. Bea looked at Dean the way a woman in love should, with pride and warmth. The look between Francis and Ursula was more like that exchanged by a cat and a terrier. Or maybe, Hannibal thought, more like the look between a cobra and a rat. Then Harry Irons moved around to the end of the table where everyone could see him and took a deep pull on his cigarette.
“So, when do they put the food on around here?” Irons asked no one in particular.
“That depends on your answer to my question,” Bea said. “Are you and Francis going to join us at the altar? Turn our ceremony into a double wedding?”
Harry grinned and nodded his head once. Francis turned to him, and all the hate drained out of her face, replaced by a smile that threatened to outshine the sun.
Dean turned to his aunt with a total calm that seemed to startle her. “Well, Aunt Ursula, I suppose if you’re ready to celebrate my mom’s new life, you’ll be welcome at our wedding.”
Hannibal wasn’t sure what was going on in Ursula’s mind, but after a brief hesitation she lowered herself to the picnic table bench opposite Dean.
Cindy, who had stayed quietly on the sidelines, moved in to put an arm around Hannibal’s waist. He realized he had just watched the resumption of a conversation that had been interrupted more than ten years ago. His sense was that Ursula would come around, and that eventually she and Francis would reach some sort of peace. He looked at Dean again, strong but relaxed, and realized that once in a while broken people could be healed too. He turned toward the volleyball net, where a few of the other guests were starting a game. Cindy squeezed his hand. The sun felt good on his neck. Life was good.
And they were finally starting to serve those barbecued ribs.
