“Tell me again Aunt Claire what we’re doing here.”
“I have to get a Christmas gift for your parents and I need your help. I don’t know your dad very well and it seems my sister has everything I could ever think to give her.”
“But the mall? Come on. This is so lame. I’m the only person here under 40.”
I scanned the crowd of people around us. She was right. Most of the crowd was older women, some with small children in tow. Seldom I’d see a teenager glued to their phone as they walked. How they managed to not bump into other people escaped my knowledge. Maybe those born in the Information Age had some special radar in their brains.
“That’s not true. You’re exaggerating. I want to spend some time with you as well. This will be my 1st Christmas back in society for 3 years. You’ve grown up a lot.”
“I’ll be 16 next month. I’m glad you won’t miss another birthday of mine. You must have been lonely around the holidays in prison, huh Auntie?”
Ah, my niece, the direct one. It was nice to finally be able to wear blue jeans and a sweater instead of prison issued clothes that never fit right. That was just one of the many luxuries I appreciated being home. Clothing doesn’t seem like a big deal until your choice of it is taken away.
“Does your mom like candles? Maybe this store will have something your mom would like.” We entered into The Candle Store.
“Mom said you weren’t really to blame for what they locked you up for. I can’t see you being involved in stealing a car either.”
“That just goes to show you that you need to be prudent about who you hang around. Do you have good friends you hang around with?”
“I don’t see much of my friend Jane anymore. We text and stuff but both of us have been pretty busy hanging out with our boyfriends. This one, Auntie,” Leslie said, picking up a candle. “Mom will love it.”
“Wait. You have a boyfriend?”
She put the hand not holding the candle over her mouth. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Mom will freak. Please don’t tell her.”
I tried to slow my brain filling with questions as I took the candle to the register to pay. “How old is he?”
“He’s a senior, only 2 years older, so it’s really not that much difference. Can I trust you, Auntie?”
You know I don’t like hiding things from my sister, was my first response, but I wanted Leslie to like me so I said, “She’s got to know you’d grow up sometime. I take it your dad doesn’t know either.”
“Dad doesn’t know. Steve, that’s his name, has a sister so dad has driven me over there to his house before and dropped me off. Dad thinks his sister is my lab partner.”
“I wonder how he came to that conclusion?” The sarcasm in my voice had her cheeks turning red. “Let’s try the department store. Does your dad like tools?”
“He’s into woodworking,” Leslie informed me. “Sometimes mom gets onto him about making too much noise so he’ll come in from the garage and read or watch TV. Dad avoids confrontation at all costs. Mom’s overprotective, but I think dad is afraid of her. They’ve been married almost 20 years but dad still has problems standing up to her. Why aren’t you and dad closer?”
“Your mom and I had a falling out at her wedding and she never really forgave me for it. I lived in another city most of their marriage so I just stayed away. After I was released, I needed somewhere to go. Your mom offered to put me up, to my surprise. She said I’d suffered enough. I guess she meant in both ways.” That was as close to the truth as I was going to get with my young niece. Maybe when she’s older I could elaborate more. “Now I’m getting a whole new chance to get to know the only family I have left. So,” I paused. “What’s he like?”
“Steve? He’s so great. The perfect guy for me really.” So like teenagers with their one-track minds. I had been talking about her dad. “He plays football and he’s supersmart. He’s going to college next year to study business. He’s gonna be rich.”
“Money isn’t everything. How does he treat you?”
“He’s a great kisser.”
“Leslie, I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“There’s so much more to a relationship than the physical part.”
“How would you know? Mom said you’ve never been married. Why?”
“I had a boyfriend for about 10 years. But we never married. Financially, it didn’t look like the best option. He had a hard time sharing. He wanted me to be independent. I guess that’s why I resorted to stealing. But life has a way of catching up with you.”
“Oh, those pajamas would look so cute on mom! You’ve got to get her more than a candle. But don’t steal them, okay?”
“Very funny. Don’t you think they’re too old lady?”
“Mom likes that kind of stuff. Why? I don’t know. Hey, could we go downstairs to look at toys?”
There she was! My niece, young at heart.
“Sure. Is there something you want?”
“I just want to look around.”
We were quiet as we descended the escalator. “I forgot how crowded these places could get,” I told her when we got to the bottom.
“Do you have a problem with crowds?” she asked me.
“I have some anxiety. I don’t think it’s genetic or anything.” More likely the product of years in a 10 x 12 cell.
“It can’t be. I love crowds and being the center of attention.”
“So anything sparkly will work for a present for you, huh?”
“Make-up, hairbands, clothing. I like all of it bold,” Leslie used her hands to emphasize the point.
“Sounds totally different than my sister. Maybe you get your boldness from your dad?”
“No. They are both, how would you say, mellow. Mom knits and dad hides in the garage. They hardly go anywhere anymore.”
“It happens to all of us. We get older and wiser.”
“She really is a good mom though. I want to be just like her.”
“One day, right?”
“Soon.”
“How soon?” I looked around. How had we ended up in the baby department? Leslie was still with her hands on a bassinet. It looked as if she was posing. “Leslie, you are still a kid yourself.”
“Are you saying I couldn’t handle it?”
“A child isn’t something to be handled.”
“How would you know? You didn’t have any kids!” She stormed off in the direction of baby clothing.
“Put those booties down. Leslie, are you pregnant?”
She looked right at me and blushed. “I’ve been dying to tell someone! But please don’t tell mom.”
“She’s going to find out soon enough!” I said, not too kindly.
“I know of a great way to tell her.” Leslie held up an infant-size onesie that said, “Grandma’s favorite.”
“Oh, no,” I said.
“Come on. We need a better gift and I need a supportive family member. It’s not like I planned for this to happen.”
“What do you think was gonna happen? You need to finish school! You need to go to college!”
“I will. I’m not giving up my life.”
“When you have a baby, it’s not about you anymore.”
“Calm down, Auntie.” I took a deep breath. “I thought you’d be cool about this,” Leslie said.
“I just got back into the family. Don’t ask me to pick sides.”
“I’m not. Just give me time to find a way to tell her myself. Knitting relaxes her so why don’t we try for something in the yarn department? She can eventually make some booties for my child. I’m thinking of the name McKayla if it’s a girl, or Riley if it’s a boy. But Riley could also be a girl’s name, too.”
“Maybe we should get out of here,” I suggest.
“But we need a better gift for mom. And what about a gift for dad?”
“Oh, they’ll be plenty surprised by your news, I imagine. No, we are going straight home to have a family meeting.”
“Come on, Auntie! I need you as an ally. You understand love, don’t you?”
“I also understand family. Your parents need to know so they can get you the help you need.”
“I’m sorry I told you! Maybe you should steal something and go back to prison!” She stormed off.
“Leslie, wait up.”
Our holiday plans had just taken an abrupt turn.
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