“And bacon. It’s the only way to make them,” her grandmother said resolutely, checking the chicken with a fork. “You know the Revelares were one of the founding families of Poppy Meadows, but my mother, she was a wanderer. Always chasing a man. I grew up here, but we settled in Oklahoma for a time. It was there she dropped me off at the bus station when I was twelve She told me she’d be back, but that if she wasn’t, to get on the bus to Chickasha and stay with my granddad.”
“By yourself?” Sadie asked horrified. “At twelve?”
“Things were different back then. Well, she didn’t come back. She was too busy to care. And I spent the summer with my granddad and hated every damn second. So, he told me that if I could save the money, I could take the bus to Newport Harbor, where my daddy worked in the shipyard. So, I sold my bike for thirty-five dollars, and that was a lot of money in 1942, mind you. Then I went door-to-door selling Cuticure, a miracle salve. If you had an ailment, Cuticure could fix it. When I finally got enough money, I took the first bus to Oakland.”
“And? Was it better than Chickasha?”
“Pfft, please. Daddy was seeing some dumb bimbo.” She stirred the corn thoughtfully. “I got to his apartment and she answered the door. Made me wait in the hallway until he got home from work. They didn’t want me. Nobody ever did. But I stayed anyway. And she’d lock me out while her and daddy had their ‘private time,’ so I spent every afternoon at the pictures until I had every newsreel and film memorized.”
“That sounds horrible.” Sadie frowned, absentmindedly eating the fruit salad with her fingertips and licking the sugar from her thumbs.
“Every Revelare leaves, but they always come back. That’s the saying. But my mother didn’t. I did. I always knew this was where I was supposed to be. But listen to me, blabbering on like an old fool. I just wanted you to know. Nobody ever wanted me except for your grandad. At least that’s what it felt like to a short, painfully shy kid like me with my huge nose and bullfrog voice. But I always wanted you and your brother. From the second I laid eyes on you, I knew you were meant to be mine. I hope you know that. I know it’s not good enough. I know I’m not your mother,” she said in a businesslike tone, taking the fried chicken from the pan and transferring it to the paper towels, waiting on the counter, to siphon off the excess grease.
“Gigi,” Sadie said in a voice soft as challah dough. But Gigi clucked her tongue. She never was one to get emotional. “Just so you know, your love has always been more than enough.”
“For you, maybe. But not for that brother of yours. And that’s okay. I just wanted you to know.”
Sadie didn’t like the way Gigi was telling stories like she needed someone to hear them. It sent a shiver down her spine much the same way sucking a lemon or getting a paper cut did.
Seth came in just as Gigi put the last piece of chicken on a paper towel.
“It’s time you two start being civil to each other before I knock your heads together in the hope of knocking sense into you both. I’m going out to have a cigarette. You two eat. And talk.”
“Gigi,” Sadie started but was cut off.
“Do this for me. We’ll talk more later, I promise.” And Sadie thought how amazing it was that Gigi could smile while holding such command in her voice.
She and Seth stared at each other. Her fingers twitched at her side. How could you want to hug and throttle someone at the same time? Sibling love was no joke.
“I feel weirdly like we’ve been set up on some kind of twisted blind date,” Seth said, looking at the platters of food. A laugh bubbled out of Sadie. She felt like she was going insane. Like nothing fit together. Like all the pieces of who she thought she was were unraveling at the seam, and she couldn’t quite figure out how to keep them together.
“What are we going to do?” she asked her brother.
Seth looked at her like she really had gone mad.
“We’re going to eat,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Because if we don’t, Gigi will lock us in here like it’s the end of fucking days, and I swear to God but that woman actually terrifies me.”
Gigi had already put a basket of garlic and parsley biscuits on the table. Seth grabbed one and tore into it as he tossed another to Sadie. She took a bite and as she chewed, she rolled her eyes. Her grandmother had put a dash of white mustard powder in the dough, which was meant to help the eater get things off their chest and deal with challenges.