perched on her head. After giving her white gloves a quick tug, she headed toward the house. My heart all but pounded clean through my chest when she knocked at the door.
What should I do? What will I say to her?
The knock on the door came again, followed by a cheery “Woohoo—anybody home?”
I took a deep breath, pried my feet from the floor, and descended the stairs on rubbery legs. When I opened the door, her grin stretched from ear to ear. “Cecelia Rose, just look at you. You’re as precious as you can be.”
I moved aside. “Please come in.”
She stepped inside and offered me her hand. “I know you couldn’t possibly remember me. We met when you were just a wee little thing. I’m your great-aunt Tallulah Caldwell, but everyone calls me Tootie, and I’d be pleased if you would too.”
I could barely hear my voice when I said, “I’m glad to meet you, Great-aunt Tootie.”
She winked. “That’s quite a mouthful. Let’s forget about the ‘Great’ part, shall we? Why don’t you just call me Aunt Tootie? Would that be all right?”
Feeling tongue-tied and inadequate in every way imaginable, I could do nothing but nod.
She gave me a gentle squeeze. “I know you’ve been through quite an ordeal, and I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am. Your daddy and I have had several conversations, and he told me you’d like to come live with me.”
A soft fringe of silver-gray hair framed a gentle face that was lightly etched with fine lines. Her watery brown eyes grew large behind the lenses of her glasses. They were kind eyes.
“Your mind must be swimming right now, but I want you to know that I’ve got a big ole house with plenty of room, and I’d sure love to have you.”
Those six simple words echoed around me and fi lled the room with light: I’d sure love to have you . . . I’d sure love to have you . . .
My shoulders began to shake, and to my disbelief, hot tears spilled from my eyes and ran down my cheeks. Aunt Tootie wrapped me in her arms and pulled me close. “Oh, honey,” she said, stroking my hair, “everything will be all right. If I’d known about all the problems your momma was having, I’d have come to get the both of you a long time ago.”
Right then and there I felt my life pass fully into her white-gloved hands.
It felt so good to be held that I cried until I got the hiccups. Aunt Tootie led me into the kitchen, sat me down at the table, and got me a glass of water. Through a blur of tears I watched her retrieve a handkerchief from her shiny black handbag. She sat down next to me and pressed it into my palm. “Here, take this and dry your tears. The worst is behind you.”
Her handkerchief smelled as wonderful as she did. Edged in delicate lace with tiny violets embroidered along its edges, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. But after I’d wiped my eyes and blown my nose, it looked like a soggy bouquet lying limp in my hands.
“You go ahead and keep the hankie, honey. I have lots more in my handbag.” She leaned forward and looked into my eyes; her smile was so tender and generous I felt its warmth touch my cheeks. “Cecelia Rose, why don’t you show me your bedroom so we can pack up your things?”
My lips quivered. “I already packed my clothes, and I have a box of books too.”
She stood and offered me her hand. “Well, then, show me what all you’re bringing.”
I led her into the living room, and when I pointed to the suitcase and box of books, she said, “That’s it? I have lots of room in my car, Cecelia. Is there anything else you’d like to bring?”
Though I wanted to ask if I could take all my old books, I shook my head. “No, I don’t need anything else.”
“All right, then, let’s take these things out to the car, shall we?”
As I helped her lift my suitcase into the trunk, she said, “Cecelia, do you have something to remember your momma by—pictures, jewelry?”
I thought of my mother’s scrapbook and nodded.
What should I do? What will I say to her?
The knock on the door came again, followed by a cheery “Woohoo—anybody home?”
I took a deep breath, pried my feet from the floor, and descended the stairs on rubbery legs. When I opened the door, her grin stretched from ear to ear. “Cecelia Rose, just look at you. You’re as precious as you can be.”
I moved aside. “Please come in.”
She stepped inside and offered me her hand. “I know you couldn’t possibly remember me. We met when you were just a wee little thing. I’m your great-aunt Tallulah Caldwell, but everyone calls me Tootie, and I’d be pleased if you would too.”
I could barely hear my voice when I said, “I’m glad to meet you, Great-aunt Tootie.”
She winked. “That’s quite a mouthful. Let’s forget about the ‘Great’ part, shall we? Why don’t you just call me Aunt Tootie? Would that be all right?”
Feeling tongue-tied and inadequate in every way imaginable, I could do nothing but nod.
She gave me a gentle squeeze. “I know you’ve been through quite an ordeal, and I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am. Your daddy and I have had several conversations, and he told me you’d like to come live with me.”
A soft fringe of silver-gray hair framed a gentle face that was lightly etched with fine lines. Her watery brown eyes grew large behind the lenses of her glasses. They were kind eyes.
“Your mind must be swimming right now, but I want you to know that I’ve got a big ole house with plenty of room, and I’d sure love to have you.”
Those six simple words echoed around me and fi lled the room with light: I’d sure love to have you . . . I’d sure love to have you . . .
My shoulders began to shake, and to my disbelief, hot tears spilled from my eyes and ran down my cheeks. Aunt Tootie wrapped me in her arms and pulled me close. “Oh, honey,” she said, stroking my hair, “everything will be all right. If I’d known about all the problems your momma was having, I’d have come to get the both of you a long time ago.”
Right then and there I felt my life pass fully into her white-gloved hands.
It felt so good to be held that I cried until I got the hiccups. Aunt Tootie led me into the kitchen, sat me down at the table, and got me a glass of water. Through a blur of tears I watched her retrieve a handkerchief from her shiny black handbag. She sat down next to me and pressed it into my palm. “Here, take this and dry your tears. The worst is behind you.”
Her handkerchief smelled as wonderful as she did. Edged in delicate lace with tiny violets embroidered along its edges, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. But after I’d wiped my eyes and blown my nose, it looked like a soggy bouquet lying limp in my hands.
“You go ahead and keep the hankie, honey. I have lots more in my handbag.” She leaned forward and looked into my eyes; her smile was so tender and generous I felt its warmth touch my cheeks. “Cecelia Rose, why don’t you show me your bedroom so we can pack up your things?”
My lips quivered. “I already packed my clothes, and I have a box of books too.”
She stood and offered me her hand. “Well, then, show me what all you’re bringing.”
I led her into the living room, and when I pointed to the suitcase and box of books, she said, “That’s it? I have lots of room in my car, Cecelia. Is there anything else you’d like to bring?”
Though I wanted to ask if I could take all my old books, I shook my head. “No, I don’t need anything else.”
“All right, then, let’s take these things out to the car, shall we?”
As I helped her lift my suitcase into the trunk, she said, “Cecelia, do you have something to remember your momma by—pictures, jewelry?”
I thought of my mother’s scrapbook and nodded.
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