I clutched my light rain coat and black snood as the sharp salt laden wind whipped around us on our walk from the car to the restaurant. Warm air welcomed us inside the doorway. The room to our left was filled with shelf after shelf of musty dusty paperback books, and a fishy aroma drifted from the kitchen to the right. Five tables covered in white linin stood scattered around the room half filled with customers. Fishing nets and sea shells adorned the walls.
Jazz ordered chicken wings. I swallowed my oyster appetizers which was a must do for me in Oysterville and waved my arms and made faces when the nasty taste hit me.
Jazz laughed, “I can’t believe you did that?”
I gulped down a glass of water, sat up straight, dabbed my mouth with the napkin and asked, “Who do you think will be at the funeral?”
“I don’t think there’s going to be a lot of people because Aunt Hildy didn’t have a lot of visitors this summer, but you never know. Edna will be there for sure. You are going to love her.”
“What about Uncle Raymond?”
“Aunt Hildegard said that he has been in and out of prison and she didn’t know where he was last summer. I don’t know if anyone tried to contact him, but I don’t think he would come.”
The waiter brought me a cream cheese vegetarian sandwich with a side of green salad and gave Jazz a fish sandwich and fries. The first bite was pure joy.
“Mmmm. This is great! Did you know we have a cousin?” I asked Jazz, “My mom mentioned him to me for the first time last week.”
“Yes. I have met him. Edna is his grandmother, and he grew up here with her. He’s nothing like Edna, and they don’t get along. She’s wonderful, but he’s always been rude.”
“How come you didn’t tell me about him?”
“I don’t know.” She said, taking a sip of her iced tea. “Whenever I saw him he seemed like he was avoiding me. He kept glaring at me. When I asked Aunt Hildy she told me that it had nothing to do with me and not to worry about it. I don’t know, but to be honest with you when he called to tell me Aunt Hildy died…”
“—wait a minute. Mr. Poyfair called me.” I interrupted.
“He called me too, but Raymond called me first. I might be wrong or maybe I’m being hypersensitive but he seemed to imply this whole thing was my fault.”
“But you were the one who came to take care of her.” I protested.
Jazz pushed her plate away from her. “I’ve gone over it in my mind a million times. I came back from the grocery store and she wasn’t in the house. If I had come sooner? If she had told me she needed the bushes trimmed? Why that day? And the greenhouse was in shambles. The whole thing wasn’t like her.”
“She must have been feeling better.” I said finishing the last bite of salad on the plate.
“The steroids and inhalers were working, but she hadn’t been out of bed in a week. She kept saying she felt better, and her indoor lilac garden was her favorite place. I don’t know. When I saw her in the hospital she looked like she wanted to tell me something, but she never spoke again.” The waiter came by to fill our glasses and asked if we wanted dessert. We declined.
“And she couldn’t write or blink or anything?”
“She either couldn’t or wouldn’t. I wanted to stay longer, but Kathleen needed me and there was nothing more I could do here.”
We sat in silence for a moment.
Jazz continued, “What did your mom say about Raymond?”
“She didn’t tell me his name, but she said the last time she saw Auntie was when she came for the baby. Do you remember a baby?”
“How old were you? Was I still living there?” Jazz asked.
“I was five, and it was right at the time dad disappeared. I don’t think the baby was with us long. I had a flash back to that old living room at our house in Portland and remembered a black haired baby who cried a lot.”
Jazz folded her napkin. “A lot of that time is fuzzy for me. I don’t remember a baby.”
“Strange.” I said.
“Did your mom say anything else?”
“She said he had turned out bad like the rest of dad’s family.”
Jazz ordered chicken wings. I swallowed my oyster appetizers which was a must do for me in Oysterville and waved my arms and made faces when the nasty taste hit me.
Jazz laughed, “I can’t believe you did that?”
I gulped down a glass of water, sat up straight, dabbed my mouth with the napkin and asked, “Who do you think will be at the funeral?”
“I don’t think there’s going to be a lot of people because Aunt Hildy didn’t have a lot of visitors this summer, but you never know. Edna will be there for sure. You are going to love her.”
“What about Uncle Raymond?”
“Aunt Hildegard said that he has been in and out of prison and she didn’t know where he was last summer. I don’t know if anyone tried to contact him, but I don’t think he would come.”
The waiter brought me a cream cheese vegetarian sandwich with a side of green salad and gave Jazz a fish sandwich and fries. The first bite was pure joy.
“Mmmm. This is great! Did you know we have a cousin?” I asked Jazz, “My mom mentioned him to me for the first time last week.”
“Yes. I have met him. Edna is his grandmother, and he grew up here with her. He’s nothing like Edna, and they don’t get along. She’s wonderful, but he’s always been rude.”
“How come you didn’t tell me about him?”
“I don’t know.” She said, taking a sip of her iced tea. “Whenever I saw him he seemed like he was avoiding me. He kept glaring at me. When I asked Aunt Hildy she told me that it had nothing to do with me and not to worry about it. I don’t know, but to be honest with you when he called to tell me Aunt Hildy died…”
“—wait a minute. Mr. Poyfair called me.” I interrupted.
“He called me too, but Raymond called me first. I might be wrong or maybe I’m being hypersensitive but he seemed to imply this whole thing was my fault.”
“But you were the one who came to take care of her.” I protested.
Jazz pushed her plate away from her. “I’ve gone over it in my mind a million times. I came back from the grocery store and she wasn’t in the house. If I had come sooner? If she had told me she needed the bushes trimmed? Why that day? And the greenhouse was in shambles. The whole thing wasn’t like her.”
“She must have been feeling better.” I said finishing the last bite of salad on the plate.
“The steroids and inhalers were working, but she hadn’t been out of bed in a week. She kept saying she felt better, and her indoor lilac garden was her favorite place. I don’t know. When I saw her in the hospital she looked like she wanted to tell me something, but she never spoke again.” The waiter came by to fill our glasses and asked if we wanted dessert. We declined.
“And she couldn’t write or blink or anything?”
“She either couldn’t or wouldn’t. I wanted to stay longer, but Kathleen needed me and there was nothing more I could do here.”
We sat in silence for a moment.
Jazz continued, “What did your mom say about Raymond?”
“She didn’t tell me his name, but she said the last time she saw Auntie was when she came for the baby. Do you remember a baby?”
“How old were you? Was I still living there?” Jazz asked.
“I was five, and it was right at the time dad disappeared. I don’t think the baby was with us long. I had a flash back to that old living room at our house in Portland and remembered a black haired baby who cried a lot.”
Jazz folded her napkin. “A lot of that time is fuzzy for me. I don’t remember a baby.”
“Strange.” I said.
“Did your mom say anything else?”
“She said he had turned out bad like the rest of dad’s family.”