Street. We could hear the music blaring as we drove up the mountain. Mother thought that was outrageous, but Daddy only laughed.
By the time we arrived, the party was in full swing. The rock band had set themselves up in Fanny's garage and the expanded and widened driveway served as a dance floor. Over the garage door a banner spelled HAPPY BIRTHDAY FANNY! in fluorescent red paint. Paper lanterns hung from tree limbs, and streamers were draped everywhere on her property.
Mommy asked Daddy to park our car where it couldn't be blocked in by anyone, so we could make a quick getaway when she determined we had had enough, but Daddy didn't seem as eager to secure an escape route. He seemed in an unusually jolly mood. I suspected he had had a few drinks at home to fortify himself for the occasion. No matter how many years had gone by and how wonderful Mommy was about it, Daddy was always agitated in Aunt Fanny's presence. Her conversations were usually stocked with innuendos that made almost everyone
uncomfortable. I had to admire Mommy for the ladylike way she always handled Fanny's carrying-on. I only hoped Luke was right--that I would be as strong and steady as she was when I was on my own.
Aunt Fanny came running over to us as soon as we stepped out of the car. She had her hair crimped and blown out and wore the tightest black leather dress imaginable. It looked like a second layer of skin. The dress had a very low neckline, the base of the V dipping well below her cleavage. She wore no jewelry, almost as if she didn't want anything competing with her rich cream complexion and rosetinted bosom. Mother didn't look surprised, but Daddy's eyes widened with masculine appreciation. I looked around for Luke, realizing how embarrassed he must already be.
Fanny scooped one of her arms under Mother's right arm and the other under Daddy's left so she could escort them into the party, announcing their arrival as she did so. I followed closely behind.
A long bar with two bartenders had been set up in front of the house, and the bartenders were pouring drinks very generously, not even measuring how much alcohol they were putting in the glasses. Adjacent to the makeshift bar was a full keg of beer submerged in a vat of ice. A steady stream of men, many of whom lived in the Willies, stood in line to fill their quart-size mugs.
Fanny had had strings of multicolored lights strung across the lawn from the house to adjacent trees. She had hired a half-dozen women to prepare and serve the food. All wore button-down white cotton dresses and dished out the food from behind long tables covered with buckets of fried chickens, platters of fish, bowls filled with a variety of salads, mashed potatoes, and steaming vegetables.
"Ma rich sista and brotha-in-law, the king and queen of Winnerrow, the Stonewalls!" Fanny bellowed.
"Oh, Fanny, please. Behave yourself," Mother chastised.
"Oh, let her enjoy herself," Daddy said. I think he liked being called the king of Winnerrow. "It's her night. Happy birthday, Fanny," he said.
"Why thank ya, Logan, dear, but don't I get at least one birthday kiss? That'd be all right with ya, won't it, Heavenly?"
"That's entirely up to Logan, Fanny. I don't tell him who he can kiss and who he can't."
Mother's reply struck Fanny funny. She laughed and laughed and then suddenly stopped and rubbed up to my father so seductively, it interrupted conversations all around us. Everyone stopped and stared. Mother turned away, but I couldn't take my eyes off the two of them. Daddy smiled nervously and then he leaned forward to give Fanny her birthday kiss.
When his lips met hers, Fanny seized his shoulders and pulled him closer. I saw her work her tongue in between his lips and then press her breast against his arm. Some of the men from the Willies cheered and whooped lasciviously. When their lips finally parted, Fanny pulled Daddy onto the dance floor as he looked back helplessly at Mother and me. Fanny started to gyrate before
By the time we arrived, the party was in full swing. The rock band had set themselves up in Fanny's garage and the expanded and widened driveway served as a dance floor. Over the garage door a banner spelled HAPPY BIRTHDAY FANNY! in fluorescent red paint. Paper lanterns hung from tree limbs, and streamers were draped everywhere on her property.
Mommy asked Daddy to park our car where it couldn't be blocked in by anyone, so we could make a quick getaway when she determined we had had enough, but Daddy didn't seem as eager to secure an escape route. He seemed in an unusually jolly mood. I suspected he had had a few drinks at home to fortify himself for the occasion. No matter how many years had gone by and how wonderful Mommy was about it, Daddy was always agitated in Aunt Fanny's presence. Her conversations were usually stocked with innuendos that made almost everyone
uncomfortable. I had to admire Mommy for the ladylike way she always handled Fanny's carrying-on. I only hoped Luke was right--that I would be as strong and steady as she was when I was on my own.
Aunt Fanny came running over to us as soon as we stepped out of the car. She had her hair crimped and blown out and wore the tightest black leather dress imaginable. It looked like a second layer of skin. The dress had a very low neckline, the base of the V dipping well below her cleavage. She wore no jewelry, almost as if she didn't want anything competing with her rich cream complexion and rosetinted bosom. Mother didn't look surprised, but Daddy's eyes widened with masculine appreciation. I looked around for Luke, realizing how embarrassed he must already be.
Fanny scooped one of her arms under Mother's right arm and the other under Daddy's left so she could escort them into the party, announcing their arrival as she did so. I followed closely behind.
A long bar with two bartenders had been set up in front of the house, and the bartenders were pouring drinks very generously, not even measuring how much alcohol they were putting in the glasses. Adjacent to the makeshift bar was a full keg of beer submerged in a vat of ice. A steady stream of men, many of whom lived in the Willies, stood in line to fill their quart-size mugs.
Fanny had had strings of multicolored lights strung across the lawn from the house to adjacent trees. She had hired a half-dozen women to prepare and serve the food. All wore button-down white cotton dresses and dished out the food from behind long tables covered with buckets of fried chickens, platters of fish, bowls filled with a variety of salads, mashed potatoes, and steaming vegetables.
"Ma rich sista and brotha-in-law, the king and queen of Winnerrow, the Stonewalls!" Fanny bellowed.
"Oh, Fanny, please. Behave yourself," Mother chastised.
"Oh, let her enjoy herself," Daddy said. I think he liked being called the king of Winnerrow. "It's her night. Happy birthday, Fanny," he said.
"Why thank ya, Logan, dear, but don't I get at least one birthday kiss? That'd be all right with ya, won't it, Heavenly?"
"That's entirely up to Logan, Fanny. I don't tell him who he can kiss and who he can't."
Mother's reply struck Fanny funny. She laughed and laughed and then suddenly stopped and rubbed up to my father so seductively, it interrupted conversations all around us. Everyone stopped and stared. Mother turned away, but I couldn't take my eyes off the two of them. Daddy smiled nervously and then he leaned forward to give Fanny her birthday kiss.
When his lips met hers, Fanny seized his shoulders and pulled him closer. I saw her work her tongue in between his lips and then press her breast against his arm. Some of the men from the Willies cheered and whooped lasciviously. When their lips finally parted, Fanny pulled Daddy onto the dance floor as he looked back helplessly at Mother and me. Fanny started to gyrate before
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