Page 5 of Sawyer

“Sure,” I say, opening the freezer door and grabbing a half gallon of Breyer’s chocolate chip. “Pizza it is.”

We pay for the ice cream, which Neena places in a plastic bag for me.

“How’s your aunt?”

“She’s sick a lot from the chemo,” I tell her.

“That happens,” says Neena. “You know what? Come back tomorrow, hon. I’ll get a few things together for her. We have agood tea for settling the stomach…and I know a broth that could help, too. Does she like smoothies? My cousin has a few good recipes. When my uncle had…”

Neena is super kind, and I so appreciate her help, but I’m anxious to go. I really don’t want to bump into Sawyer again.

“That would be amazing, Neena!” I tell her. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Great. I’ll put on my thinking cap.”

I offer her a rushed smile as I herd the girls into the grocery store vestibule. Jenny pauses at the “Community Events” bulletin board.

“There’s a movie tomorrow night at the Parsnip,” she says. “What’sPractical Magicabout?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, though I recognize Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock on the flyer. “You wanna go?”

She looks at me over her shoulder, wrinkling her nose like I stink. “With you?”

“Yes. With me.”

I’m trying really hard to be patient with her, but my experience with kids is slim, and Jenny, who has always adored me to the point of hero worship, has been really bratty since I arrived to help out last week. It’s like she thinks I’m trying to replace her mother, when all I’m trying to do is lend a hand while my aunt does her best to get better.

“I wanna go to the movies! CanIgo?” asks sweet little Vicky.

“I don’t think so, muffin. It’s PG-13.” A different flyer advertises a kids’ Halloween movie at the Rec Center next weekend. “But I can take you to seeHotel Transylvanianext Saturday, okay? Looks like they’re having a popcorn machine and everything. It says you can even wear your costume!”

“Yay! Okay!”

“I guess I’ll go with you tomorrow,” says Jenny softly, staring at Nicole Kidman. “She’s got red hair. Like us.”

“I’ll clear it with your dad,” I say, “but I’m sure he won’t mind. He can spend the afternoon with your mom and Vix.”

“More board games,” mutters Vicky.

As I turn to leave, another flyer catches my eye.

AUDITION FOR SKAGWAY’S WINTER PLAY: WUTHERING HEIGHTS!

A NEW STAGE ADAPTATION WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY BRUCE FRANKS!

Interesting. I thought Bruce’s interests leaned more toward Westerns, not classics.

Wuthering Heightshas always been a favorite story of mine. It’s so tragic and romantic and devastating. I can just imagine how well it would lend itself to the stage. And while I’m no Nicole Kidman or Sandra Bullock, I was an active member of the theater and film clubs at college, participating in stage productions and starring in student films regularly.

I lean forward and rip off a tab from the bottom of the flyer, drop it in my purse, and follow my cousins out the door.

***

“How’s she doing?”

I peek my head through the cracked door of my uncle and aunt’s bedroom, and my Uncle Alan looks up from the bed where he’s lying beside my aunt. She’s tucked against his side, her bald head wrapped in a colorful turban, and her eyes closed in slumber. She looks peaceful. I’m grateful for that. This morning’s treatment was hard on her.

“She held down some toast,” he whispers, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “Where were you three?”

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