Page 16 of Rootbound
Same dark blonde hair, same olive skin tone… the eyesare different, though. Hers are a striking denim blue, the same shade as Ava’s.
“Hi!” she says brightly. “It’s about time we got you out here, girl. Do you remember me?”
Her smile is infectious as she bounces in place. I feel my face smile back, but I’m still suffering from the shock of my mental breakdown à la Diana Ross, and she continues before I get a chance.
“It’s okay, honey. I forgot what I went to the grocery store for this morning, so I wouldn’t either. I’m your aunt LeighAnn. Can I give you a hug?” And she does.
It’s been so long since I’vebeenhugged that I naturally fall into it. Don’t get me wrong, I have hugged, but maybe it’s only an older sibling thing—we are the ones who do the hugging.
The last hug that someone heldmein was when I ran into my ex-mother-in-law at the grocery store in my former town. I, of course, looked like trash (because one never runs into anyone one knows when they are put together, only when they are mid three-day-eating/sci-fi-series-binge, still wearing a stain of the previous night’s wine and still picking Oreo gunk out of one’s teeth). I was only going out to replenish the necessary supplies. I was also clearly reflecting how I felt internally, and she held me tight enough for me to burst into tears in the middle of the chip aisle.
I moved shortly after that. And discovered grocery delivery.
LeighAnn is holding me that same way now, and it elicits the same response. I feel my throat thicken, and I break the hug before I let myselffall apart.
“LeighAnn, of course I remember you. You taught me how to French braid in the same day you taught me how to shoot a compound bow,” I say, and the smile that surfaces is almost genuine. LeighAnn is seven years younger than Charlie, and was always my favorite.
Her grin warms, and I invite her in to sit down.
“No, no, I can’t sit still for long anyways. Once Grady texted and told me you were here, I had to see you and catch up. And I thought I could show you around and get you reacquainted with the place. A lot has changed, but then again, a lot hasn’t. Fancy a walk?”
Noting that she didn’t say anything about making me join for dinner, I decide that this is my safest bet to appease everyone. My instincts aren’t picking up any bad vibes from her, but I guess that she’s trying to feel me out as much as she wants to get me reacquainted. Knowing what I know of this family, I suspect that I’ll need to quickly squash anyone’s suspicions about my motives and goals from the jump. LeighAnn seems like a good enough place to start.
“Sure, let me change my shoes.”
“Sneakers might be comfy but you’ll want some decent shit-kickers for around here.”
I smile and quickly lace on my hiking boots. Shit-kickers they are not, but they’ll do.
We head out in a silence that’s anything but comfortable… LeighAnn keeps switching up her pace, but I don’t know where to start with the conversation, so I am determined to sit back and let her take the lead. After about five awkward minutes, she begins.
“So—our Tater-Tot is all grown up, huh? What are you, twenty-eight now?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The nickname was always the worst, andstill is, but I refrain from telling her as much. She’d often watched Ava and I, and was always around from what I can remember, so I’m sure she’s just trying to remind me of that and get us on comfortable ground.
“Don’t you have a birthday coming up?”
“Yep. Twenty-nine in a little under a month.”
“That’s right. You share a birthday with my daughter, actually. She’ll be twenty-one in October. Lucy. She’s at Boise State.”
“Wow, congrats—what’s she studying?”
“She’s doing the pre-vet program. She was a lot like you growing up—could spend all day with the horses. Have you gone to the stables yet?”
“No. I, uh, just got here and wanted to get set up.”
“Of course. Well, we have a herd of wild horses that’s been spotted over by the eastern ridge and valley lately—they’d be awesome to photograph.”
Oh good, she knows what I am here to do, there’s my pivot point. “That’d be amazing. Thank you for the tip.”
“No problem. I already know you don’t need my advice, though. Your work is beautiful. I found Ava on Facebook a few years back and have seen some of what she’s shared. And her family. That husband of hers is adorable—the baby even more so.”
“You and Ava are Facebook friends?” I struggle to keep the incredulity out of my voice.
“Uhhh, yeah. She never mentioned it? I think she and Grady are, too? They’ve done some messaging back and forth.…”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” I manage to say quickly, hoping I glazed over my confusion. The hurt that I feel is quickly overshadowed by the fact that it’s obvious that Ava wantedthis—this reunion—way more than she let on. She must’ve lied out of thinking that I’d chastise her or judge her? I don’t exactly know, but leaving me here with egg on my face is still pretty un-sisterly. Especially when she knew I was coming here. Did she know about our cousin, too? Actually, what the fuck?