Page 33 of Mason Wilder
Everyone came to honor Aunt Mary on her 90th birthday. The entire Immortal Angel family was there to celebrate. Even Mason’s Aunt Kira and Uncle Brett, who lived half the year on the West Coast, the other half in the penthouse next to Mason’s parents, flew in from California with their twins to join the celebration. All four of Mason’s grandparents also showed up for the occasion. These were the people whose lives Aunt Mary touched, and she was humbled at the fuss.
“Oh, my. This is all so overwhelming.” Aunt Mary pulled the glasses from her face and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
“Blow out the candle.” Mason’s mom, pushed the cake a little closer to Aunt Mary.
The elderly woman leaned her elbows on the table and took a big breath of air. The candle flickered against the shallow gust she exhaled before the flame finally extinguished and the room filled with cheers and applause. Everyone quieted as Aunt Mary removed the pink Burberry blanket from her legs, pushed back on her wheelchair and stood with a wobbly gait, supporting herself with her frail hands on the edge of the table.
Mason started to rise to help her. He always got so nervous when she didn’t use her chair, but his dad jumped up to assist her.
“I’m fine, Jimmy.” She waved him away with an arthritic hand. “I want to tell you all something.” She paused to look at the faces around the large table, while the sweetest smile spread across her lips, wrinkling her cheeks and the corners of her eyes. “I’m 90 years old today.”
“You still look 21!” Mason’s dad called out, with his hands cupped around his mouth, and everyone laughed.
“Oh, hush! You’re so silly, Jimmy. Living with you has always kept me smiling. You’ve all kept me smiling. Especially you little ones.” Rightfully, Michael and the twins were the only ones who still fell into that category, but Aunt Mary still included Mason, Lucas, and Tessa in the blanket term. “I never had any children, but I always felt like a grandmother.”
“We love you Aunt Mary!” Mason called out.
She waved at him to be quiet, a smile crinkling the apples of her cheeks. “Shush. You’re just like your father. Let an old woman speak.” Her eyes traveled over everyone at the table. “I love all of you so much.” She paused again while reflection glazed over her wise eyes for several moments. “I’ve had an amazing life thanks to you. I’ve done more in the last 30 years than most people do in a lifetime. I got to see a man with a husband and a wife.” She smiled at Angel, Tommy and Jessi. “I’ve never witnessed so much love. I traveled all over the world. I went to Australia and Japan. I’ve been to Europe and South America. Dozens of times!” Her voice grew higher, as if she just said she’d gone to the moon. “I even rode on a tour bus across the country with a rock and roll band more times than I can count.”
“Technically, it’s a punk rock band,” Angel said with a teasing smile. “You should know there’s a difference, Aunt Mary. But that’s OK.”
Aunt Mary let out a small laugh. “You boys. Always giving me a hard time and keeping me on my toes.” She curled her arthritic fingers into a fist and looked at it. Slowly, she raised her index finger and then uncurled her pinky and raised her fist a little higher and smiled as she raised rock and roll horns in the air. Everyone erupted into laughter. She was so darn cute.
Her eyes rested on Jimmy, and her smiled quivered “You’ve been so good to me, Jimmy. Taking me into this beautiful penthouse and giving me my own suite of rooms so I could be near my Mason and watch him grow up and become a rock star and fall in love. I’m so thankful I got to be part of Michael’s life.” He ran to her side and gave her a gentle hug, and she cupped his chin in her hand. “You’re such a dear. And so very smart. Thank you for not beating the drums at all hours of the day and night like your brother.” Mason chuckled and smiled affectionately at this woman who he had looked up to since he was a baby. She returned the smile, deep lines forming above her cheekbones and around her mouth. Then she turned toward the opposite end of the table. “I got to bounce twin babies on my lap and spend a summer in California thanks to you, Kira.”
“I had a little something to do with that,” Uncle Brett added, sending a small rumble of laughter around the table.
Aunt Mary extended her frail hand to Mason, and he quickly moved to her side to take it. Her fingers shook as she tried to assert a tender squeeze.
“Mason is my only blood relation in this room, but you’re all my family. You’re all my children, and you’ve taken such good care of me.” Her hand, still in Mason’s, began to tremble and she sniffled.
He helped her sit back down in the chair, leaving a kiss on her leathery cheek.
“I love you, Aunt Mary. Happy Birthday.”
The call came at 6:08 in the morning. Somehow, Mason knew. Maybe it was the finality of Aunt Mary’s speech last night. Or the sinking feeling in his chest. Or maybe it was just the connection he shared with this woman who he loved like a grandmother. Whatever the reason, he knew she’d passed before his father had uttered the heart-rendering words.
“Aunt Mary passed in her sleep. I’m so sorry, buddy.” Those were the words that kept playing on repeat in Mason’s head as he sat at the same dining room table where they’d celebrated the life of this incredible woman less than 24 hours earlier. Balloons still floated near the ceiling, announcing the 90 years of life that had been lived. According to Mason’s dad, Aunt Mary had wanted to sit in her favorite recliner before bed and look at her photo albums. Never getting on board with the digital era, she loved to look at printed photos. Mason’s mom always made it a point to print off photos at the end of every year to document the people and events in Aunt Mary’s life. There were dozens of flip books, albums and framed photos all over Aunt Mary’s suite of rooms. She had always wanted them within reach, so she could take them off the shelf and look at them without asking for help.
Mason’s dad said he had gone to check on her when he got up to use the bathroom, just to make sure she made it into bed OK, and that’s when he’d found her. At first, he thought she was sleeping, but her hand was cold to his touch. She looked peaceful, his father had told him, with the corners of her mouth turned up into a small smile. Tears streamed down Mason’s cheeks as he looked down at the small photo album in his hands, the one his dad found in Aunt Mary’s lap. He touched the lettering on the cover of the album. MASON – 4 YEARS OLD. It was the first year he and Aunt Mary came to live with his dad. Even before his dad married his mom.
Tessa knelt beside him and put her hands on his thigh. “What’s that?” she asked softly.
“The photo album Aunt Mary was looking at when she died.” He kept his gaze lowered so Tessa couldn’t see his pain, but he knew she felt it. There was no hiding his grief.
“Can I see?”
Mason opened the book. The first page showed Mason sitting behind his dad’s drum kit. He saw Tessa smiling as he flipped the pages, which were filled with more images of himself and his dad. Some with Aunt Mary. Some with his mom. Each photo brought another memory to life.
“You were always such a happy kid,” Tessa commented. “You had that adorable giggle, and I always loved the way your cheeks dimpled when you smiled.” She ran a tender hand over his cheek. “I still do.”
He held her hand against his lips and kissed her palm as he gazed at her, his eyes watering. This girl had so much compassion and sensitivity in her soul that it constantly poured out and nurtured the ones she loved, and he felt it. His attention dropped to the photo book, and he took in the memories that seemed like yesterday and so long ago at the same time. It amazed him how much he remembered from when he was young. “You and Lucas weren’t even born when these were taken.” He turned away from the album in his lap to study Tessa’s profile. She was so pretty and so kind. “I can’t believe there was a time when I didn’t know you. That there was a period of my life that you weren’t part of.” He flipped through more pages and it came to an end with a photo of him sitting on his dad’s lap playing the big blue drums. As he closed the leather cover and stood up, the album slipped through his fingers and landed on the floor.
Tessa picked it up, along with a small three-by-five photo that landed next to it. She studied the photo for a few seconds before handing it to Mason. “Who’s this?”
Mason stared at the photo. It was of a baby in a bouncy seat with a young woman holding up a stuffed animal and smiling at the baby. “I think it’s me.”
“I know the baby’s you. I can see your dimples. Who’s the girl?”
