Page 27 of On My Side
“Aunt Olivia. The woman, the myth, the legend,” she confirms. “I miss her every day.”
“Tell me about her.”
“Oh… I…” she stammers, face reddening. It’s like she didn’t expect me to ask any follow up questions, and it hits me like a wrecking ball that maybe no one ever asked any. “She was my favorite family member when I was a kid,” she says, looking away. “She was my mom’s aunt, and never married. My parents didn’t like her, but she always gave me candy and seemed to be interested in what I had to say.”
I watch Audrey bustle about the kitchen, turning the oven on to preheat before facing me. “No one ever listened to me. Not like her.” There’s a soft, fond smile on her face, one that existssolely when she’s talking about Piper. My heart aches for her, for her loss and for the way she spent her life thinking she didn’t have anything to say that was worth listening to. “When I was a teenager, I stopped seeing her because… I don’t know. I was too busy fighting with my parents and getting grounded and sneaking out. When she found out I was pregnant, she came to my parents’ house. Somehow sheknewI needed her, and she showed up for me.”
I inhale through my nose and look at the fridge again. “She sounds like she loved you like you love Piper.” I examine a report card on the fridge, a strange sense of pride coming over me when I see Piper got all As this past year, except in English, where she got a B. She’s a smart cookie.
“She did love me like that. Piper, too. One of the only few people who cared.”
I lean back against the counter, shoving my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for her. “What do you mean?”
We cared. I remember my family caring about her. Then one day she was suddenly gone.
Audrey sighs, digging through her cutlery drawer. “Getting pregnant as a teen doesn’t make you any friends. Or have you already forgotten how Celia treated me just now?”
“No, I remember. I saw your face through the window. No one deserves to be alone with that woman. But isn’t that just Celia?”
Audrey scoffs, pushing the drawer closed with her hip. “No, that’s pretty much how everyone treated me. Especially then, hence the new name and new hair color. I’m sorry, by the way.”
I feel my brows furrow into a scowl of confusion. “Sorry for what?”
“That she recognized me. You shouldn’t have to be seen with me. I’m worried she’ll start spreading rumors.”
My eyes drift back to that one photo on the fridge. Audrey is smiling, but it doesn’t meet her eyes. The Audrey I rememberhad eyes that seemed to always glisten, like she knew a secret no one else did.
She always seemed so…alive.
It’s ironic that creating new life is what took that gleam away. Or rather, how she was treated while pregnant.
“I really don’t care about any rumors Celia tries to start. I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you.”
The timer on the oven beeps, but before she turned her back to me, I saw the fleeting look on Audrey’s face. A little bit of shock, a tiny glimmer of hope. But she brushes it off, replaces it with doubt.
“Ready?” Audrey asks, handing me a mug of coffee—one that says, “Best Mom Ever” over and over in various fonts—and my plated gyro breakfast burrito.
We go out onto the porch, and she takes a seat in a wicker rocking chair, curling her legs beneath her. She places her own bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich on the side table and lifts her steaming pink ceramic mug to her mouth.
“So,” Audrey says, lowering her mug. “The concert.”
I clear my throat. “Yeah, Yale’s symphony is doing a summer series and there’s one right before school starts back up that’s a John Williams tribute…”
Audrey furrows her brow. “John Williams?”
“Famous movie score composer.Star Wars…” I trail off, looking at her expectantly.
“That’s the only score he’s composed?” she asks.
“Well, no.” I admit, feeling my cheeks flush. “He’s done other stuff, but I can’t think of any off the top of my head.”
“Hmm,” Audrey says, staring intently at her coffee. “Do you likeStar Warsor something?”
My cheeks redden deeper. I’ve lovedStar Warssince my dad brought me to the movie theater in Milford to seeAttack of theClones. It was probably the most transformative experience in my young life.
“They’re good movies…” I start to say, but stop short when I notice Audrey’s shoulders shaking. I narrow my eyes at her. “Wow.”
“I’m sorry,” she wheezes.
