I closed my eyes tightly, waiting for the blow.
“She wants you to be her maid of honor, which means you’ll have to come home. She says you don’t have to stay more than two days—for the rehearsal and the ceremony and reception—but she’d like for you to stay longer. We all would, Maddie. You haven’t been home in three years.”
I wanted to argue that it hadn’t been that long, but I knew it had. Just like I knew how each December my family placed Christmas ornaments and poinsettias on my mother’s grave. And how they waited until the following January to celebrate Harry’s birthday, a month late. It had been Cassie’s idea to separate the two events so the youngest Warner’s birthday wouldn’t be overshadowed.
A thump on the floor by the bed announced Colin’s return. “I’m not sure if I can,” I said into the speaker as I hung up a shawl-collared jacket with large round buttons on the front. “My work schedule is so unpredictable. . . .”
“Madison Warner.” My aunt’s tone and the use of my full name reminded me of why we called her bossy and why Knoxie had asked her to call me in the first place. “We are talking about your family here. Your little sister, who has always looked up to you and who loves you, is asking you to be here for her wedding. It’s not a lot to ask, and it should take priority.”
I closed my eyes, then snapped them open to block out the images of the kitchen table we’d all sat around, the magnolia tree in the front yard of the old house where our mother had been born and raised. Of chasing lightning bugs in the backyard at night, clutching peanut butter jars labeled with our names. “Can I think about it and let you know?”
Aunt Cassie sighed. “Fine. I’ll call you tomorrow. But as your uncle says, there’s not a lick of a chance that there can be more than one answer, and I’m not going to accept an alternative.”
I opened my mouth to tell her that meant it wasn’t really a choice, but she spoke again. “How are your menstrual cycles?”
The sound of tape being ripped off of cardboard jerked my attention to Colin standing next to me. “Aunt Cassie! You’re on speaker, and I’m not alone here. Can we talk about this another time?”
“Maddie, there is nothing to be ashamed of. You’re a girl, and all girls menstruate. It’s a fact of life. And you of all people should know why it’s important to pay attention to your body.”
Colin was busy removing clothing from the box and wasn’t looking in my direction, but he had two ears, and they’d turned an interesting shade of pink.
“That’s enough for now, Aunt Cassie. We’ll talk about this later, all right? When you call me tomorrow.”
“Sure. There’s one more thing. Sam was in Atlanta for a medical conference and ran into Dr. Grey. She mentioned you’d had some test results forwarded to her office from your doctor in New York, but the follow-up requests to make an appointment have gone unanswered, so she was concerned. What’s going on?”
I was painfully aware of Colin in the room. “It was no big deal—just some blood tests. I simply wanted Dr. Grey to see them. It’s not an emergency, all right?”
I could almost hear Cassie’s brain working in the pause before she spoke. “Fine. Then you can make an appointment to see her when you’re here for Knoxie’s wedding. Assuming you haven’t already seen your doctor in New York by then. Although I understand why you might want to see Dr. Grey. She’s been with us through a lot, hasn’t she?”
A loud shriek emitted from my phone, followed by my fifteen-year-old niece shouting at her eleven-year-old brother, “Give it back, Sam Junior! That’s mine!” A door slammed and then, at an even higher volume, Suzy screamed, “You’re like a booger you can’t thump off!”
I made the mistake of looking up and meeting Colin’s gaze as his eyebrows shot up.
“Well,” Cassie said calmly, “I’d better get off the phone before World War Three starts and go see what those two hellions I gave birth to are up to. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” I said, but she’d already hung up. I kept staring at my phone, listening as Colin pulled clothing from the boxes, trying to think of something to say to explain the conversation.
“Excuse me, you two.”
I looked up with relief as Laura appeared in the doorway. “Lunch is ready.”
“Great,” I said, “because I could eat the north end of a southbound polecat.” I saw that they were both eyeing me strangely. “Sorry. Something my uncle Sam says and that my aunt Cassie tells me I shouldn’t.”
Laura smiled. “I’ll go let Miss Dubose know you’re coming.”
I blushed and was just wondering how much of the conversation Colin had actually heard when he said, “I’m wondering if I need to Google the word ‘booger’ for alternate meanings or if your cousin’s intent needs no explanation.”
I stuck my head deep into the box, but I wasn’t fast enough to hide the bubble of laughter that escaped from my mouth. As I tossed another pile of clothes onto the bed, I caught sight of something blinking in the light. The box purse I’d seen partially hidden the previous day. I slid it off its hanger and held it up. “Look what I found. Should I bring it, start a conversation?”
“Sure,” Colin said. “My mother packed a boxful of purses, actually. I left them at the town house, not thinking we’d need them. If Arabella wants more, we’ll know where they are.”
I nodded and slipped the handle over my wrist, noticing a small repair, the rope strands held together with nearly invisible stitches. I held it up for Colin to see. “This
