to light and guard

chapter nineteen

Mary Eunice lugged a pot of water onto the stove, the burners turned on low, and she cracked open the jar of sauce and smelled it. In the living room, Gus growled, rumbling in her chest. "Come here, Gus!" she called, but his poor reaction stirred anxiety in her stomach. Lana's voice met her ears, irritated and clipped, but she couldn't hear the words exchanged, nor could she see the other person from around the wall of the kitchen. Don't be silly. It's none of your business. It's probably just a bill collector. Gus lumbered to her with pricked ears. "Be quiet. Hang out in here with me."

He heaved a long sigh, like it troubled him to obey her, and a whine emerged from somewhere high in his throat. "Is something wrong?" His long, skinny tail, usually wagging and filled with delight, hung tucked between his hind legs. "It's okay." Mary Eunice took the hotdogs out of the refrigerator. She halved a weenie and tossed one piece down to him. "Have a snack." The silver muzzle dipped down and sniffed, but he looked back up at her without sampling it. He butted his head into her thigh, emitting another whimper.

Her hands stilled from chopping the hotdogs for the spaghetti, allowing the knife to fall back onto the cutting board. "What's the matter?" Gus had never turned up his nose to food before, especially not people food. She dropped down beside him to examine him. "Does your tummy hurt?" His round eyes met hers, pleading, jowls balancing on top of her knee. "Gus?" she pressed, and he headed back to the kitchen entrance, pausing there and gazing toward the front door where Lana lingered, holding it ajar. "It's okay," Mary Eunice soothed. "Come on."

He followed her back to the stove and lay down on the rug; she picked up the discarded hotdog and threw it away. But his tail didn't thump when she passed, and his eyes followed her, pink tongue flicking out to wet his jowls every once in awhile. Mary Eunice hovered over the stove, waiting for the water to boil. The front door creaked as Lana closed it. Then, her voice, hesitant and low, reached out in a summoning. "Sister?"

A dreadful tremble punctuated the word. That doesn't sound good. Mary Eunice's stomach erupted into a hive of startled bees beating at the walls at the sound. What could it be? Her tongue leeched her mouth of all wetness, and she turned slowly, every awful scenario coming to mind. What have I done? Gus pounced to his paws and kept right at her heels. She turned off the burners and wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt. You've done nothing. You're jumping to conclusions. But then why did Lana sound so dreading?

Her feet sank into the shag carpet, eyes moving first to Lana and then to the figure beside her. The hive's hum died, and it plummeted deep into her abdomen; her breath caught somewhere between her chest and throat, crippling her from speaking or continuing to breathe properly. Gus butted his head against her thigh. She couldn't rip her gaze away from where Aunt Celest stood; a decade spent apart had altered her but not beyond recognition. Her eyes. Celest's furious blue eyes had not changed. Under them, Mary Eunice shrank, small and young and vulnerable again; she had fled from this rebuke for ten years, but she should have anticipated it would catch up with her eventually.

"Well?" The voice hadn't changed, either; it was rustier, more gnarled by cigarettes and drugs and age, but it still managed to cut her down with a single word, make her sink to the floor. "It's been ten years. Do I get a hello, or are you going to stand there like a lump all day?"

Mary Eunice tiptoed deeper into the room, nearer. She gulped the swollen portion of her throat. "Aunt Celest." Her voice was a guitar with two broken strings. "It's—It's good to see you again." She halted beside Lana, who fixed both eyes on her, concerned and scrutinizing. Her heart pulsed stronger than ever, threatening to burst from her chest and flee.

"Is it?" At the sharp, blade-like question, Mary Eunice flinched. "It's been ten years. I might've thought you were avoiding me. No calls, no letters." Celest swung her sharp gaze to Lana. "Are you going to gape at me all day long?" She slurred her words. Tremors shook her hands, and her icy eyes were bloodshot. She's lost weight. Mary Eunice licked her lips as she studied the woman, the long brunette hair tangled beyond relief, face barren of makeup and holding exhaustion in the new wrinkles. Her skin had aged and yellowed.