She caught the look, and her eyes darted between us. “What? What are you not telling me?”
Brandon sighed gustily. “Adelle, that day we were fixing up the house? We found Georgie raiding your fridge.”
She winced.
“We got into a fight, and Brandon ended up throwing him out of the house,” I added, also wincing. “He’s changed, but I don’t think for the better.”
“He’s just…not a happy person.” Her hands lowered, and she stared at her half-eaten lunch as if it held the answers to the universe. “I stopped helping him last month. I was about to lose the house if I didn’t. That’s when I realized he was raiding the fridge. What was I supposed to do, let my child go hungry? I didn’t say anything about it.”
“Mama, you realize he’s spending what money he has on alcohol and using you to feed himself. You know that.”
“I do,” she said in a tired way. “He’s too much like his father. Alright, I won’t invite Georgie. But I’m inviting everyone else. It’s time they realized you’re a man in your own right, and I want them to meet Brandon.”
I still felt that was a bad plan, but at least she had the good sense to leave Georgie out of this. I didn’t want to get into an argument about Georgie at this moment so I let it go. “What time do you want us there?”
“Six or so, I think. That should give us time to cook.” Her expression lightened a little as she switched topics. “Mon angé, I’ve thought about your offer on the car. I think I’ll do that. We’ve got a three-day holiday coming up next month, I’ll book a flight for then.”
I was so relieved she’d agreed. “Excellent. I can’t wait for you to meet the Havilis. And Jon. Jon’s a kick in the pants, that one.”
She nodded, smiling. “I’m looking forward to it, too. But tell me about your sight. You mentioned this morning you wanted to test it. I’m too curious to wait for tonight. You said it changed?”
“It’s sort of a subtle difference, but yes, it has. Brandon and I took a walk through a graveyard earlier so I could practice a little. In a nutshell, my sight’s sharper. Living and spectral energy have more definition to me now. At a glance, I’ll probably still be fooled. Which probably means driving is still out. But if I’m paying proper attention, I can tell the difference more readily now.”
“That’s excellent!” she enthused. “Is that the only difference?”
“For my talent, yes, that seems to be it. Although honestly, I feel more stable now than I ever have before.” I gave my lover a teasing wink. “Have you ever had a dream come true you’d never even allowed yourself to wish for?”
Mama’s smile turned soft and gentle. “In this case, mon angé, I did the wishing for you.”
“Oh, is that what happened?” I grinned back at her. “Well, excellent job, then.”
“Why thank you.”
Brandon snorted, shaking his head. “I accept the compliment.”
Mama patted my hand. “I’m running out of time. We’ll talk more tonight at dinner. You’re not going back to work after that, are you?”
“Can’t. Exorcist arrives tomorrow. We’ve got time until then. For tonight, is there anything I should pick up at the store? Or set out to thaw for you?”
“No, you just relax. You and Brandon have both been scurrying about ever since you came in.”
There was truth. I wouldn’t be able to rest idly about, though. Maybe I’d tackle finishing that bathroom. I had about four hours to kill, that should be enough for the first coat of paint, at least. Wisely, I decided to not tell her that. Let it be a surprise.
16
Mack had the bathroom completely painted and a primer coat up in the hallway by the time that Adelle made it into the house. She hugged us both again for helping her, and it really made me wonder—was Mack the only child she had who routinely helped her? It might’ve been part of the reason why she was so anxious that he would no longer live near her.
Since I was not a painter, I chose to help Adelle cook instead. With so many people potentially coming, there was a lot of cooking to do. I’d learned at my mother’s knee how to be a good kitchen assistant and fell to it.
Adelle handed me an apron with a pleased smile. “Bless you, cher, it was a bit much for just me to do. If you’ll scrub the mirlitons and cut them in half, I’ll get started on the stuffing.”
I looked at the kitchen table, where she’d laid out the ingredients, and didn’t have a clue what she meant. “The what?”
“The pear-shaped squashes,” she directed, pointing toward the green things piled up in a bowl. They really did look like pears, only the wrong color. They were too green and wrinkly to be mistaken for pears. “Have you not had stuffed mirlitons before?”
“Uh, no. This one’s new to me.” This had to be a truly Louisianan dish.
“Oh? They don’t sell these up north?”
It was funny to think of Tennessee as ‘up north’ but from here I supposed it was. “Uh, not that I’m aware of.”
“Then you’re in for a treat,” she informed me, as proud as if she’d made up the recipe herself. “We stuff these with bread crumbs, shrimp, ham, scallions, garlic, and celery. Makes a fine meal, and it’s filling, a good thing to feed a lot of people with.”
I hauled the pear-things over to the sink and started washing them. “Yeah? I’m looking forward to it, then. Do we make anything else to go with it?”
“I’ll get some bread baking in a minute. It’s rather a meal in itself.”
“I can see that.”
We got to chopping and mixing and cooking. It felt, strangely, as if I’d reverted a little back to childhood and was helping my mother in the kitchen. But it didn’t, at the same time. Probably because I was making something I’d never seen before with a woman who didn’t really believe in measuring ingredients. It was a strange nostalgia I chose to enjoy rather than question. As we cooked, Adelle tentatively asked me questions about my family, my history. I knew she’d probably only heard what little Mack had told her, and she was worried about her son being out in the wide world. It wasn’t always a friendly place. I answered every question she put to me as honestly and thoroughly as I could. I hoped the answers relaxed her. They certainly seemed to, as her body language lost a great deal of its tension as I spoke.
Mack washed up and joined us, going through the motions so smoothly I could only assume he’d made this recipe with his mother many, many times before. We had things in the oven, and the table was set by the time the first sibling came.
The woman who came through the door had to be related to Mack. She had the same eyes, the same curly dark hair, although her skin tone was more of a tawny color. She had a round figure, as if she’d had two or three kids and not lost all the baby weight along the way. I couldn’t quite peg which sister this was—either the eldest or second eldest was my guess.
“Izora,” Mack greeted with a wide smile.
Ah, this was the sister he liked the best. I watched them hug each other. It wasn’t a quick in and out, but an embrace that lingered with them rocking back and forth subtly for a second before letting go. I liked her already just from the happy way she greeted my Mack.