Don't Forget to Write: A Novel(6)

“Well, Great-Aunt Ada is a little bulky.”

“Don’t you dare put that ‘great’ part in front of my name. I don’t need ‘aunt’ either. Ada will do just fine.”

I stared at her a moment longer, then shrugged, wishing that I had a head scarf as well. My hair was going to be a knotted mess from riding in the backseat, especially the way she drove.

We stopped at a traffic light, and Ada pulled my tube of Guerlain Rouge Diabolique lipstick from her bag, pursed her lips in the rearview mirror, applied it, and then returned it to her bag. I leaned forward again. “What happened to that looking tarty?”

“On you. I can pull off anything.”

This was going to be a very long summer.





CHAPTER FIVE


Ada wound the car through the city, whipping around turns and narrowly avoiding both oncoming trolley cars and pedestrians. We only saw maybe two dozen other cars and no taxis. Thomas seemed unfazed, but I saw his right hand gripping the car door tighter than the rest of his posture would imply was strictly necessary. And I did wonder how much of this was theater for my benefit. Was she actually the kind of woman who would make her niece sit in the backseat so a man of a different race could ride in the front? Or was she putting me in my place? I tended to believe it was the latter, based on the inherent xenophobia I had seen from the older people back home. But none of the septuagenarians I knew looked or acted anything like Ada. So maybe it was real.

Eventually, she pulled to an abrupt stop in front of a large duplex in a neighborhood full of cookie-cutter houses.

“I told you the rope would hold.”

“I stand corrected,” Ada said, smiling up at Thomas. And for a moment, I could have sworn she was flirting. “You don’t mind bringing it upstairs to the guest room, do you, darling?”

Darling. Interesting.

“No, ma’am, not at all.”

She thanked him, then turned to me. “We’re going to have to establish some rules before you get too settled.”

Here it was. My mother warned me she was going to be strict.

“Number one: you’ll do as you’re told. I don’t have time to be disciplining errant children.”

“I’m not a chi—”

She held up a finger, shushing me. “As I said, I don’t have time to be disciplining you. So you’ll behave, or you’ll be right back on that train. And from what I hear, you don’t want that any more than your parents do.”

I crossed my arms sulkily but let her continue.

“Number two: no men. My reputation in this community is my livelihood, and I don’t intend to let something like your stained-glass incident affect that. Am I clear?”

I nodded, seething inwardly, but there was no way I was letting this witch see it.

“Number three: no one enters my house without my permission. I don’t care who your little friends are. I don’t trust them around my things. Number four: you touch nothing without my permission. No ‘borrowing’ without permission. And I won’t be granting permission.”

“So it’s okay to steal my lipstick, but if I take anything of yours, I’m out?”

She smiled. “Now you’re understanding.”

Mama, what did you do to me?

“And number five: no lies. I don’t care how ugly the truth is. And I see that bottom lip, missy. I know you’re thinking you can get around me. You can’t. I see through you, little girl. Don’t you ever forget that.” Thomas returned after having brought the trunk inside and this time took my valise and hatbox. “He’s off limits,” she said, following my gaze.

“Why? You want to date him?” I asked tartly.

“Don’t be rude,” she said.

“Any other rules?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “But we’ll start there for today.” Thomas returned to the car. “Hop in, I’ll take you home.”

“Thank you, but I don’t mind catching a trolley. I need to stop off at my father’s shop.”

“I can take you there.”

He nodded toward me. “I think you’ve got your hands full already.”

“Don’t I ever?” Ada said. “Why my family thinks I’m running a home for all these wayward girls, I couldn’t tell you.” She removed her driving gloves and held out a hand to Thomas, who shook it fondly. “You tell your folks hi for me.”

“I will, ma’am.”

“And for the millionth time, stop with that ma’am business. It’s Ada. Just Ada.”

He smiled, showing off perfect white teeth. “Yes, ma’am,” he said to her, then turned to me and nodded. “Miss Kleinman.”

Ada shook her head as he walked away, then turned off the car and climbed out. “Come on,” she said. “No one ever got ahead by being slow.”

I climbed out the passenger side, prepared to argue that I was hardly a “wayward girl,” when something dawned on me. “Ada—who else has the family sent you?”

“Sent me what?”

“You said you’re not a home for all these wayward girls. Who else got sent to you?”

She turned at the bottom of the stairs up to the door on the right side of the duplex, a sly smile spreading across her face. “You think you’re the only bad one? Your mother spent a summer with me too, young lady. And look how she turned out.”