Like a Sister(6)

“What happened?” she finally said, transforming back to the pillar she’d always been.

“You heard about the body they found at Nelson Playground this morning?”

“No, I’ve been out since eight. Saw a message from Mel but didn’t check it, figured I’d talk to him when I went there for dinner.” She stopped for a moment. “Overdose.”

Aunt E was as familiar with Desiree’s drug issues as I was. She’d never judged her for it, though—she was the lone person in our family who accepted each and every one of our flaws. It was why we all flocked to her. I’m sure she had opinions—about Mel and my mom. Mel and me. Me and Desiree. But she kept them to herself.

“All the way up here? Why…” Aunt E said, then decided it didn’t matter. “Come here, Lena.”

I walked over and we stood, holding each other, for a good minute. Aunt E was barely five feet and a hundred pounds but hugged like someone twice her size. The type of woman who wasn’t afraid to take up space. I suspected she’d been like that her entire seventy-plus years on this planet. She’d certainly been like that the entire twenty-eight years of mine.

“You hungry?” she said. “I can make you something.”

Food was the last thing on my mind. “I think she was coming to see me,” I said into Aunt E’s right shoulder, for once not caring about our nosy next-door neighbor who watched us like a television.

There was no way Desiree had been coming to see Aunt E while high. There weren’t enough drugs in the world to have convinced her that was a great idea.

Aunt E disengaged, pulling back to look me in my eye. “She didn’t mention stopping by last time we spoke.”

If there was one way Desiree was religious, it was calling Aunt E the first Sunday of the month like it was early service. And those Sunday calls always turned into my Monday briefings about what was going on in her life. Or at least what Desiree wanted Aunt E to think was going on. There was no doubt Aunt E passed my news to Desiree too, made more noteworthy because, unlike Desiree, (1) I didn’t have a public Instagram to stalk and (2) I told Aunt E the truth. The selfish part of me always hoped I was part of why Desiree called. In reality, I knew she loved Aunt E just as much as I did.

“You hear anything this morning?” I said, even though I knew the answer. “Anyone?”

Sure enough, she shook her head. “The alarm didn’t go off.”

Mel had installed some fancy-schmancy system when he fixed up the house after Gram died and Aunt E refused to move to a “better neighborhood.” It was as much of a pain in the ass as he was, going off if someone so much as looked in its general direction. We’d only just started using it regularly after a minor break-in a month ago. I’d even paired it with my Alexa.

“Let’s go inside,” Aunt E said. “I need to call Mel.”

Five minutes later, I was at her kitchen table staring down a plate of leftovers. Aunt E and I were in our usual seats—her closest to the stove and me to her left. Aunt E’d rejected any and all attempts to get her a cell phone, making her calls from a landline older than I was. The phone hung on the tiny expanse of wall that separated the kitchen from the hallway, and its ultra-long cord stretched past me as Aunt E settled in to talk to Mel. She didn’t have a speakerphone, but luckily she kept the volume high enough you didn’t need it. I leaned forward. It picked up on the second ring. “Mel Pierce’s office.”

Tam sounded as professional as always. A first-time caller wouldn’t suspect she was the least bit upset. But I knew better. For one, she hadn’t checked the caller ID. Otherwise, she’d have known it was us. Plus, I could hear it in her voice, the rawness in her throat that could only be the result of extended crying. “You holding up, Tam?” Aunt E said.

“Aunt E!” For a moment Tam’s perky timbre was back. The one that sounded like it was truly her pleasure to say three words: Mel. Pierce’s. Office. Like life got no better than answering his phones, checking his emails, and helping him stick to keto. A joy right up there with playing with puppies and eating only pink Starbursts.

It had annoyed the shit out of me when I realized it wasn’t an act. Tam had been promoted to Mel’s EA right before my mom died. Whereas most execs have two, even three, assistants, Mel needed only Tam, as she’d taken to the role like it was her baby, managing each and every little thing in his life—from his calendar to his travel. She’d also taken to his newly motherless firstborn daughter, having counseled me through one and a half breakups. Yet I’d never heard her even mention dating. She seemed to have no life. Lucky for her, Mel had enough for both of them.

“Where’s Mel?” Aunt E said.

“On a call. We’ve been trying to reach you and Lena all morning.”

Aunt E looked at me. I still hadn’t said a word.

“I had Zumba,” Aunt E said. “Lena let me know.”

“Good,” Tam said. “We thought about sending someone to the house. We just didn’t want you to find out through the news.”

I sighed.

We.

That’s how Tam talked. We were just calling to check in. You get the Apple gift card we sent for your birthday? We wanted to make sure you were coming to the holiday party. As if Mel gave a rat’s ass about when my birthday was or that I was saving up for a new laptop or if I’d be one of the five hundred special guests in attendance at his annual White Christmas extravaganza.