The Beginning Read Free

her move around the small kitchen, each action smooth and efficient. She was graceful, this aunt of hers in her hippie clothes. She looked at those strong hands, the long fingers, the short, buffed nails painted an awesome bright red. Amabel was an artist, she remembered that now. She couldn’t see any resemblance at all to Noelle, Amabel’s younger sister. Amabel was dark as a gypsy, while Noelle was blond and fair-complexioned, blue-eyed, and soft as a pillow.
    Like me, Sally thought. But Sally wasn’t soft anymore. She was hard as a brick.
    She waited, expecting Amabel to whip out a deck of cards and tell her fortune. She wondered why none of Noelle’s family ever spoke of Amabel. What had she done that was so terrible?
    Her fingers rubbed over the white band where the ring had been. She said as she looked around the old kitchen with its ancient refrigerator and porcelain sink, “You don’t mind that I’m here, Aunt Amabel?”
    â€œCall me Amabel, honey, that’ll be fine. I don’t mind at all. Both of us will protect your mama. As for you, why, I don’t think you could hurt that little bug that’s scurrying across the kitchen floor.”
    Sally shook her head, got out of her seat, and squashed the bug beneath her heel. She sat down again. “I want you to see me as I really am,” she said.
    Amabel only shrugged, turned back to the stove when the teakettle whistled, and poured the water into the teacups. She said, not turning around, “Things happen to people, change them. Take your mama. Everyone always protected your mama, including me. Why wouldn’t her daughter do the same? You are protecting her, aren’t you, Sally?”
    She handed Sally her cup of tea. She pulled the tea bag back and forth, making the tea darker and darker. Finally, she lifted the bag and placed it carefully on the saucer. She’d swished that tea bag just the way her mother always had when she’d been young. She took a drink, held the brandied tea in her mouth a moment, then swallowed. The tea was wonderful, thick, rich, and sinful. She felt less on edge almost immediately. That brandy was something. Surely she’d be safe here. Surely Amabel would take her in for a little while until she figured out what to do.
    She imagined her aunt wanted to hear everything, but she wasn’t pushing. Sally was immensely grateful for that.
    â€œI’ve often wondered what kind of woman you’d become,” Amabel said. “Looks to me like you’ve become a fine one. This mess—and that’s what it is—it will pass. Everything will be resolved, you’ll see.” She was silent a moment, remembering the affection she’d felt for the little girl, that bone-deep desire to keep her close, to hug her until she squeaked. It surprised her that it was still there. She didn’t like it, nor did she want it.
    â€œCareful of leaning on that end of the table, Sally. Purn Davies wanted to fix it for me, but I wouldn’t let him.” She knew Sally wasn’t hearing her, but it didn’t matter, Amabel was just making noise until Sally got some of that brandy in her belly.
    â€œThis tea’s something else, Amabel. Strange, but good.” She took another drink, then another. She felt warmth pooling in her stomach. She realized she hadn’t felt this warm in more than five days.
    â€œYou might as well tell me now, Sally. You came here so you could protect your mama, didn’t you, baby?”
    Sally took another big drink of the tea. What could she say? She said nothing.
    â€œDid your mama kill your papa?”
    Sally set down her cup and stared into it, wishing she knew the truth of things, but that night was as murky in her mind as the tea in the bottom of her cup. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I just don’t know, but they think I do. They think I’m either protecting Noelle or running because I did it.