Livingston sighed. “I love Aunt Esme, but do not put me next to her.”
“No one wants to be next to her, Livingston,” Papi said.
Papi was a stoic, gruff man. But he had always been warm to me and my brothers. He reminded me of Daddy so much. With his hazel eyes, that always seemed to have a twinkle in them. Momma said Livingston got his mischief from Papi.
Daddy and Étienne’s dirty blond hair came directly from Papi although his was nothing but gray, with a thick mustache to match. When I was seven, I once asked if I could touch it and he said if I did, it would make him sneeze. I still didn’t have the courage to ask again.
As we stood there, Momma’s parents walked in. We called them Grandma and Grandpa with a stiffness that matched who they were. It wasn’t done with malicious intent, but we saw them only a handful of times a year and when we did, we were only to speak unless spoken to.
“Children,” Grandpa Livingston said, “you look healthy.”
Grandpa greeted me and my brothers the way one would acknowledge a business acquaintance. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.
Étienne dipped his head. “Thank you.”
Livingston was given his name in honor of Momma’s former last name. Although, I didn’t think that gesture ever meant anything to Grandpa. Between me and my siblings, there were never any favorites. We were more people he had to remember on his never-ending list of names.
As we faced our grandpa, Livingston had an arm around me. Both Étienne and Livingston were guarded as Grandpa inspected the foyer of Belgrave with an expression of distaste.
Once, Belgrave was his. Back when it was still a thriving plantation and Momma was young. But times had changed. And I thought every single change hadn’t met my Grandpa’s approval. Especially my daddy.
Just then, my papi and mamie approached. Grandma and Grandpa Livingston looked none too pleased. I looked between the two set of grandparents, noticing the sharp contrast. Although they all looked to be close in age, Papi and Mamie seemed almost youthful compared to Grandma and Grandpa Livingston. Grandpa had lost most of the hair on his head, and what was left was clinging around the sides. Lights from the chandelier ricocheted off his shiny bald head. His nose was red and bulbous, giving him the appearance of always being cold. I thought it matched his cold green eyes.
Grandma Livingston was just as rigid. She was a tall woman, nearly as tall as Grandpa. She never laughed, smiled, or even frowned. I thought that was why she didn’t have too many wrinkles. Her hooded hazel eyes were always judging and disapproving. Not once had she ever shown me warmth.
“Alexandre,” my grandpa said as way of greeting.
I knew my sets of grandparents didn’t care for one another. I didn’t know why. Adults never told me anything.
I once heard my parents talking about Grandma and Grandpa Livingston. “They think my family is less than because we were once part of the workin’ class,” Daddy said. “Let them believe it. My hands are dirty from hard work, but my money is clean.”
I never knew what he meant by that.
All I knew was that my papi and mamie always showered me and my siblings with love. They treated Momma as though she was their own daughter.
“How is the shippin’ company?” Grandpa asked Papi with an air of disdain.
“Doin’ well,” Papi paused. “Forgive me, Everett, for not wantin’ to discuss business at such a time. As you can imagine, we’re devastated by our loss, and more importantly, for our grandchildren’s loss.”
Grandpa looked between me and my brothers. His cheeks were red from the gentle scolding he received from Papi. Grandpa cleared his throat and nodded. “Of course. It’s a tragic time.”
Nothing about what he said rang true. I looked up at Étienne and Livingston and from their scowls, I knew they thought the same thing.
My grandparents looked behind them at the people entering the foyer and began to step away. “We’ll be in the sittin’ room.”
Panic started to fill me as I saw the doors of the sitting room. Immediately, I looked away, but I saw the solid oak of one of the caskets. If people were starting to arrive that meant the funeral would begin soon. I didn’t want to see my parents and Julian unmoving and in a box, but I also didn’t want to say good bye to them either.
I didn’t want to be here at all. Why couldn’t I hide?
Quietly, I walked behind Papi and slipped my hand into Mamie’s. She didn’t look down at me, but she squeezed my hand. They began to greet people, accepting condolences and well wishes.
A line had begun to form, and one of the families in the line were the Pleasontons. Rainey was wedged between her momma and brother, wearing a look of insolence. Every time she fidgeted, her momma snapped her fingers in front of her and sternly shook her head. Rainey didn’t say much when she was in front of me. She lost her own father just two years ago. I never knew what to say at that time, but I knew I needed to be there for her. It never crossed my mind that I would one day be in that same position.
Rainey came closer, and while the adults spoke to one another, she whispered, “It’s okay if it hurts. You know how badly I hurt after I lost Daddy.”
All I could do was nod and try not to cry.
Rainey moved from foot to foot. “I’ve been thinkin’ about this, and I think Daddy left early so he could build a cloud house for your parents and Julian. That way they’re all together and safe. Forever.” She nodded rapidly. “That sounds wonderful to me. What do you think?”
I wanted my family all the way together, and alive. But to imagine Julian safe and sound filled me with a small amount of comfort. I slowly nodded.
Rainey gave me a small smile and backed away. “This dress is too tight,” she said loud enough for the adults to hear.
Somberly, I nodded. “So is mine.”
“I’m takin’ it off the first chance I get,” my best friend declared.
“Rainey,” Mrs. Pleasonton chided as they walked away.
My best friend’s honesty brought things back to its rightful order, if only for one second. Then I spotted Ben greeting more people at the front door and reality came back. I smiled sadly at Rainey’s retreating figure, wishing she would come back and stand next to me.
My heart gave the barest of leap when I saw the Calhoun family walk in and Asa approach Étienne. My heart had felt broken since Étienne gave me the news of my parents and brother’s death, but seeing Asa was a small beacon of hope. He looked handsome in a dark gray suit but that was all I seemed to notice. The events of today were weighing too heavily to feel or observe anything else.
When I saw Asa’s parents, I thought of what Momma once said about them. I didn’t picture his momma as a cruel person. She was always kind to me and had a smile for me. But Asa’s daddy… he scared me. He was similar to Grandpa Livingston. He thought children should be seen and not heard. I don’t think he had ever said hello to me.
Asa gave Étienne and Livingston brief hugs and quietly spoke to them. He reached me, and his stoic brown eyes turned sympathetic as he looked down at me. “Nat.”
I managed a weak hello. He bent down so were eye level. “I am terribly sorry for your loss.”
I nodded, unable to say anything else.