Aunt Linda had Momma sit where I sat now. I knelt at Momma’s feet and dried off her legs where dead leaves and dirt had splattered. Her big toe was bleeding, the nail almost torn off.
“Let me make you some tea,” Aunt Linda had said, and she put water in the kettle to boil.
Momma never said a thing. Just shivered with the cold. Her arms and legs so thin. Her hair dripping. Her eyes a blank. And when the water boiled and the kettle whistled, Momma looked down at me. She put her hands on my head.
Right at that moment, when I looked into her face, I saw my old mother, from a long time ago. It was like I looked at her real self, trapped somewhere behind her eyes.
“Lacey,” she said, her hands on my cheeks, gentle near my ears. “Lacey, I love you.”
The memory made my insides turn around. Made tears come. But I wasn’t about to let them fall.
“What happened then?” Aaron said.
I shrugged. I couldn’t go on. “She was fine,” I said at last.
But looking back I knew it wasn’t true. Things hadn’t been fine in this house for a long, long time. Except for that one moment when my real momma looked out at me.
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to go?” Aaron said after lightning lit the sky so that I could see his face clearly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to hang around a little longer? You know, till your aunt gets here?”
I shook my head no. Thinking of Momma afraid and in the dark and wet made me want to bawl my face off. And if I was going to cry, I wanted to do it alone.
Aaron stood, and I did, too. We walked through the house to the front door. Don’t cry, I thought. Whatever you do, don’t cry. Not now.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I said. I could hear my voice going tight and high, like I was a balloon full of helium. “As soon as Aunt Linda pulls in the driveway, I’ll be fine. She’ll know what to do.” She’ll know where Momma’s gone. “And she should be here any second now, right? Probably before your momma even.”
Aaron must not have been able to tell how close I was to bawling. He smiled. We stood together in the hall, shoulders touching, our skin damp from the humidity, watching out the front door for his momma or my aunt. With me ignoring as many tears as the rain had cried during this storm.
You did it! You lost her!
I didn’t! I didn’t.
I remembered Aunt Linda, her voice smooth after a time when Momma had cried over something she saw on the news. First she’d tucked Momma into bed. And then to me she said, “She’ll be fine, Lacey. If we keep her on her meds, she’ll be fine.”
But that hadn’t happened.
Momma refused anything that she had to swallow whole. She said the government put something in the medicine to record people’s thoughts.
That memory seemed to suck out all my courage now. I wanted to just fall on the floor in a clump. And when Aunt Linda got home, I planned on letting her take care of everything.
Now I was ready for Aaron to go. I just felt too sad. I needed crying time before my aunt got home.
Cars drove past, splashing water in waves from the puddles in the street. Everything was pure dark. I could see the power was off everywhere. No houses showed lights. The lightning was less harsh and further away.
A car came up the road, driving slowly through the rain and puddles.
“There she is,” Aaron said. “My mom.”
“Oh, that’s good,” I said.
I was struck with a deep jealousy seeing that car. In my whole life I couldn’t remember Momma ever coming and getting me from anywhere. No matter the weather. Or dropping me off anywhere either, for that matter. She used to go out of the house just to shop for food, before the money ran out. That’s why I’d thought a job at the Winn-Dixie would be a good thing. That’s why I had encouraged her to look for work there. I had thought, somehow, being around all that food would make her feel comfortable.
Aaron and I stepped onto the front porch that was slick with rain. He picked up his skateboard as his mother pulled into our driveway. The headlights lit up the side of my house, made the dark seem even darker.
“Thanks again,” I said.
“Sure,” he said. Then all the sudden he was in my face and his lips were on the corner of my mouth, catching mostly my cheek. There just a second. Soft and warm.
And me not even expecting it.
I touched the place he’d kissed.
“I’ll come over and we’ll do some skateboarding,” he said. Then he splashed through the soppy front yard. He waved again at the car, calling out, “You’re going to find her soon. I know it.” Then I watched him drive away until even the red of the taillights was gone for good.
XII
I stood on the front porch. Everything was so weird. Me calling Aunt Linda. Momma being gone so long. Aaron kissing me. And my tears. With Aaron gone, you’da thunk I could have cried enough to make a yard soppy myself.
But no. I stood dry-eyed there in the front of my house. Darkness everywhere. Thunder sounding in the distance. The rain splashing in puddles. Worried about Momma, surprised at Aaron, waiting for Aunt Linda.
A breeze ran through the yard. I heard the palm fronds scratching at the wind. And like that, a mist of warm rain, almost like a low cloud, fell from the black sky. I leaned against Granddaddy’s ancient Adirondack chair. It left a thin line of water on my thigh. From somewhere came the soft scent of roses.
A car drove past, lights like eyeballs cutting into
