“Soup sounds great.” I fold two towels perfectly and Aunt Viv gives me a nod for a job done to her satisfaction. “Aunt Viv, have you given any thought to how you want to celebrate your fifty years at Fairchild?” I ask as casually as possible while holding up a sheet between us to hide my terrified face.
“Good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise, I will celebrate with a fifty-first year at Fairchild. That’s what I’ll do.” I knew at some point in this conversation a creek might be rising, I just didn’t know it would happen so soon.
“Yeah, but I mean, don’t you want to do something special to celebrate this year? Let’s be honest, that school would have sunk into the Bay long ago if you hadn’t been there for the last five decades holdin’ it up.” I’m working the flattery angle.
“Josie, you tryin’ to make me sound old?” Aunt Viv purses her lips at me and places a hand on her hip. “I suppose it would be nice to go to the Mission and try out Alba Ray’s with you and Etta and maybe Louise” (Aunt Viv’s best friend slash nemesis from her card game). “Alba Ray’s is s’posed to be good, though I’m not sure how ’cause I read somewhere that none of those boys who started the restaurant are from Louisiana, so what can they really know about cookin’ Cajun? You gotta be born with it in your soul. But, I’ve been craving me some crawfish étouffée. You know I don’t like cookin’ crawfish at home. Can’t get rid of that stank for days.”
“Well, that sounds nice, Aunt Viv. Etta and I can definitely take you and Louise to Alba Ray’s, but I was thinking a little bigger, maybe something more along the lines of a party.” I keep my voice upbeat and cheerful, hopeful she will follow suit.
“A what?”
“You know, Aunt Viv, a party, a celebration, a reason to get dressed up. Maybe something special at Fairchild. Invite families and alumni from throughout your career who would love to honor you.” As it comes out of my mouth I know it sounds as bad as I think it does.
“Now why would I want to go prancin’ around some Fairchild party pretending to be fancy? Have you lost your mind? Ain’t no one wants to go celebratin’ some old woman. I’ve just been making people their lunch all these years; I wasn’t savin’ their lives.”
“Ask any tired, hangry teenage boy at Fairchild and they’d probably say feeding them is saving their life.”
“Don’t go back-talking me, Josephine Bordelon. You live in my house, you do as I say. There will be no party, you hear me straight? You act like you don’t know nothin’ about me. I raised you, and as an adult I can’t get rid of ya’. You act like you don’t know me at all. Where has your common sense gone, child?”
This is going exactly as horribly as I was expecting it to. Time to throw down the raw truth.
“Truth is, Aunt Viv, I was just being nice asking if you want a party. There is going to be a party and there is nothing we can do about it. Nan’s been planning it since before winter break. She’s calling it Viva la Viv. She’s thinking a Miami nightclub kind of theme. I’m afraid she thinks New Orleans and Miami are more or less the same thing. I tried to talk her out of it, I really did, but she insists and she’s not backing down.” There, it’s out. I take two steps back just in case Aunt Viv comes out swinging.
“You tryin’ to tell me that twig of a thing beat you? Please. I know when you tryin’, Josephine, and I know when you’re not tryin’ hard enough. Whether there’s a party or there’s not I AIN’T GOIN’. And that’s God’s honest truth. A party—ridiculous. Now get out of my way. I gotta put this laundry away and talk myself out of wantin’ to wring your neck.” Aunt Viv snatches up the laundry basket and heads down the hall. I follow after her, a little miffed now that she didn’t even give the party one split second of thought.
“Aunt Viv, did it ever occur to you that I did try to get Nan to back down from the party? That I tried to tell her you aren’t exactly the celebrating type, that maybe she could try to think of a less public way to honor you? But she wants this party. She wants a reason to show off the school and her generosity and herself to decades of alumni. You are a convenient reason!” I realize this sounds harsh, and I take a moment to shift gears back to the rational. “At the end of the day, Aunt Viv, Nan’s our boss and we’ve got to do what our boss tells us to do, and she’s telling ME to make sure I get YOU to this party. I have college tuition to pay the next four years and it would be nice if you could retire someday soon and I could take care of the both of us. So you see, I CAN’T get fired because my stubborn old mule of an aunt refuses to show up at her own party!” I should have left the mule out of the conversation.
“I’m not gonna go, Josie, so you best figure out another way to keep your job. A party, what a waste of money. That school could use the money for the party I never asked for in the first place to help some child and his mama pay for a Fairchild education. That’s what I would want to mark my fifty years at Fairchild, to help some mama get her child a good education. If anyone had even had an ounce of common courtesy to ask me what I want, that’s what I would’ve told them.”
Ouch. Yet again, Aunt Viv is right, on too many fronts. Why didn’t Nan or I ask Aunt Viv what she wanted to commemorate her anniversary at the school back in September? Why was the only possible public recognition a party? The least I could have done is force Nan to ask Aunt Viv how she would like to commemorate fifty years. At her fingertips, Aunt Viv was able to come up with an idea that would contribute to the school community and not waste its financial resources on Grey Goose vodka and mediocre merlot.
“Damn, Aunt Viv, that’s a great idea, that really is.” Aunt Viv is looking right at me like No shit, Sherlock. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you directly how you would want to celebrate this milestone. I’m even more sorry I didn’t work harder to get Nan to ask you directly. Your scholarship idea is so good that I promise to work on it. I want to make this happen for you. I will do everything I can to make this happen for you.” I pause for a moment and reach out for Aunt Viv’s hand to seal the promise. She reluctantly takes it and smooths the top of my hand with her other palm, forever the reassuring adult of our household. “But in the meantime there’s still going to be a party and you’re still going to have to g—”
“Aunt Viv, Aunt Viv, I got an audition at Juilliard!!!! You home? Did you hear me? I got an audition at Juilliard!!!!” Etta comes bounding up the front steps screaming at the top of her lungs. “Aunt Viv, they want me, they really want me! Can you believe it??!!” The front door slams and moments later Etta bursts into our conversation and flings her whole body over Aunt Viv. She doesn’t even notice I’m there. Aunt Viv drops my hand to embrace Etta.
“How do you know, baby girl?” Aunt Viv asks Etta, the two of them jumping up and down in pure joy.