“Kids!” called my grandmother in her bullhorn voice, momentarily silencing the crowd. “Come and get your pictures made!”
As Mackenzie and I headed toward her, Aunt Angie appeared with the stroller containing our youngest cousins. Twins Bella and Blair were just six months old.
“Why don’t you girls hold them for the picture?” our aunt suggested, passing a baby each to Mackenzie and me.
Mackenzie was a pro, thanks to all the babysitting she did back in Austin. Babies weren’t my thing, though. In fact, they were way up on the list of things I wasn’t good at. Blair must have sensed that, because the minute I took her, she started to cry.
“Jiggle her up and down, like this,” said Mackenzie, bouncing Bella gently.
I tried to mimic her, but it only made my tiny cousin cry harder.
“I’m right here, peanut!” cooed Aunt Angie, waggling her fingers.
“Give her to me,” said my younger sister Lauren, scooping Blair out of my arms. She made googly eyes and silly faces and bounced her expertly on her hip until Blair stopped crying and produced a toothless smile.
Aunt Angie gave my sister an admiring glance. “Don’t you have the magic touch!”
Lauren turned pink with pleasure at the compliment. “Babies aren’t that different from kittens.”
“No, Lauren, you can’t have a kitten,” my mother said automatically. My sister had been angling for another pet ever since we’d arrived in Pumpkin Falls.
Lauren heaved the deep sigh of the misunderstood, then followed Mackenzie and me onto the steps to join the rest of our cousins.
“Two rows! Tallest in the back, shortest in the front!” ordered Grandma G.
“How about we try something different?” Janet suggested. “Let’s put Truly in the middle, and then staircase down from there on either side.”
I grimaced. I’d been hoping to hide in the back row. I knew Janet didn’t mean anything by it, but Truly-in-the-Middle was my father’s nickname for me, since I was the middle kid in our family. And ever since my growth spurt, it was like my family couldn’t resist showing me off. My parents had put me smack-dab in the middle of our last Christmas card photo, where I towered over both of them, and over my brothers and sisters, all of us in our matching holiday sweaters my mother had knit for us. Talk about a sight to behold.
Aunt Louise, Mackenzie’s mother, sorted us into place with help from Aunt True, who was a Lovejoy, not a Gifford. They went up and down the line, wiping noses and brushing stubborn cowlicks into place in an effort to make us presentable. This was Aunt True’s very first Gifford reunion. If she was feeling a little overwhelmed, you’d never know it. My father’s sister seemed to take everything in stride, including giving up a life of travel to move back to her old hometown and help run the family bookshop.
“I think that’s as good as it gets,” said Aunt Louise finally.
My aunts retreated to the sidelines as Grandma G gave Janet a thumbs-up. The camera whirred and clicked.
“Looking good!” said Janet. “How about one more, just in case? Smile, everyone!”
Just as the camera shutter clicked for the final time, my cousin Matt, who was ten and a show-off, made a face. This meant another retake, of course, and there were two more misfires after that, one because my little sister Pippa got distracted by a butterfly and another because Uncle Rooster’s two youngest boys started swatting each other. Finally, Janet managed to take a picture that satisfied my grandmother. Which was a good thing, because my cheek muscles were starting to hurt from all the smiling.
“Time for the full Gifford!” Grandma G announced. She gave her lips a fresh swipe of her signature bright red lipstick as the rest of the Texas side of my family crowded forward.
“True, you get in the shot too,” my mother said.
“Yes, True, come on up here and join us,” said my grandmother. “And bring that long drink of water with you.” She winked at Erastus Peckinpaugh, my aunt’s gangly boyfriend, who taught history at Lovejoy College. Their romance—which my friends and I helped rekindle last winter—was finally out from under wraps. It was also a subject of keen interest to the residents of Pumpkin Falls, who were placing bets as to when Professor Rusty, as everybody called him, would propose.
“But we’re not Giffords!” Aunt True protested.
“Neither am I,” said my father, taking his place beside my mother. “But we’re all still family.”
“Honorary Giffords!” Aunt Louise decreed, and another big Texas whoop went up from my relatives.
Aunt True smiled and shrugged. Grabbing her boyfriend’s hand, she squeezed in beside me. Suddenly I didn’t feel like such a freak. Aunt True and I were the same height.
“Stand your ground, tall timber,” she whispered, giving me an affectionate nudge with her shoulder.
Aunt True liked to refer to the two of us as “tall timber” and often joked that we were born to stand out in a crowd. Maybe someday I’d have her confidence. Right now, I was still getting used to my newly attained height. And my size-ten-and-a-half feet. I took a deep breath, straightened up, and smiled once again at the camera.
“And that’s a wrap!” said Janet half a dozen clicks later.
My father stepped forward, thrust two fingers in his mouth, and gave a sharp whistle. “Head ’em up and move ’em out! The bus leaves in two minutes—there’s just enough time before dinner for a swim over at Lake Lovejoy. Y’all know what’s on the menu tonight: Teddy’s famous ribs!”
This announcement brought another chorus of whoops. Uncle Teddy’s barbecued ribs were always a highlight of our reunions. I could hardly wait. Pumpkin Falls didn’t know the first thing
