3Chapter 1
Me: Hey, I think you know I'm coming. I hope you know. This is Savannah, your great niece. We've met at a couple funerals. I'm the one who is going to be your slave for a bit while you recover.
Great old P: K
I looked down at the message, unsure what I'd been expecting from her. I sat in the car, looking up at the beautiful cream weatherboard house with blue trimming. The house had gigantic windows but currently, all the curtains were closed. I see the curtains ruffle and a figure looms behind a transparent lace layer, peering at me. I had arrived about ten minutes ago but I hadn't worked up the courage to go inside. I hadn't had one phone call with the woman about the arrangement, it was decided on by others that I was the only one with little enough to do to go assist.
Taking my legs off the dash, I opened the car door and went around to the trunk, popping it and getting my two suitcases out with a grunt. I somewhat regretted packing so heavily as I made my way up the drive with a wince and the figure disappeared from the curtains. Some of the bushes and plants were overlapping the path and I had to snake around them. The front door creaked open and I picked up my pace, trying not to wheeze.
"Hey Aunt P., "I said once I'd reached the door, beaming brightly at her.
"Savannah, I presume." She still had the door half-closed. "I know this is meant to be … kind, but I really don't need any help.
"Well, you know, it did take me three and a half hours to get here, so." My grin widened and she pursed her lips. "You're stuck with me for a while. I hate driving. It's going to take some time to get back the emotional bandwidth I spent trying to get here. In fact, I need the world's biggest cup of tea."
I squeezed through the narrow gap, side-stepping past her. She leaned back, closing her eyes and sniffing the air. I gave her an odd look and she looked away, looking around her house as though she was trying to see what I was seeing.
Her home seemed neat, although it smelled a bit doggy. I could see some long grey fur on the chair on the far side of the room in her lounge. She had an open kitchen to the left, with a small dining table near the front door, in front of the windows, and her lounge was further back to the right. "Do you have dogs?"
"No." She looked a bit nervous. "I mean, I used to. I haven't had one in some time. I keep expecting to die, you know, but here I am."
"Cheery thought," I said.
"Oh, no. You're mistaken. I might be alone, but not unhappy. It was merely practical, if I had a dog and I died, I don't know where it would go to." She shrugged. "I am happy to still be alive, despite family thinking I've lived my life the wrong way, like your mother might think I've lived life the wrong way."
She seemed defiant.
"Hm. Mother and I's opinions don't often match."
"So, why are you here?"
"Well, whether or not our opinions match is beside the point. I'm a dutiful daughter."
"Well, you came. Now, you see everything is alright. So, you can leave."
"Hah. You know, I can't do that. If you die and I'm not here, I'd feel a bit bad." I frowned. "You don't want me to have your death on my conscience, do you? I'm young, it could follow me for the rest of my life, this guilt. Let me help you. I can do things. What things can I do for you?"
"You are not bathing me." She said vehemently. "I don't need help with that."
"Okay then. You know, I wasn't offering so don't look at me so weird. It's your loss. It can be kind of nice to have someone wash your hair." I said, shrugging and trying not to smile too hard at her. I mean, really. It's not exactly like bathing an adult is in the top of my to do list. "Like I said, what do you need my help with?"
"I'll think on it. In the mean time, you may decide to leave." She shrugged. "
"You keep up with that and I will bathe you." I threatened, wagging a finger at her. She gave me a sharp look. "Don't look at me like that. You're the one being difficult."
"You're an odd girl." She said, although she didn't say it like it was an insult, more like she was considering me. Then she grabbed my suitcases out of my arms and began to heft them down the hallway.
"Uh. Aunt P." I chased after her, trying to grab the suitcases. She dodged me, rolling them in front of her and zigzagging down through the kitchen and into the hall that lead past the bathroom, a couple of rooms with closed doors, and then my guest room. I tried and failed to reach past her and get the suitcases. It was bewildering. I'd packed those. I knew how crammed full and heavy they were."You shouldn't be pushing heavy suitcases at your age. I was sent to help you, not put your back out."
Was she so determined that I felt unneeded around her that she'd put herself at risk of an injury?
Shuffling after her. She put the suitcases by the bedside table
"I've already eaten dinner, so I think I might retire for the evening." She informed me and then with that, left me in the guest room and closed the door with a firm clack. I stared at the pale blue door and chewed on my lip, wondering if this indicated that I wasn't allowed to leave the room. I looked around, the bedside table had a couple picture frames with photos of my nanna in them, her sister.
I'm guessing this is where she stayed. Did she always greet her sister with photos of her own face on the bedside table, or were these placed after my nanna had died? Could she not bear to look at them?
Going over to the double bed with a floral quilt laid over it, I sat down and bounced on it to test it for comfort. It seemed pretty soft, but not melt in and leave a body print soft like how I liked it.
Sighing, I laid down and closed my eyes, trying to imagine what this summer was going to be like.
She was going to love me by the end of it. She'll see.
I'll make her love me.
xoxo
Aunt Patricia was still not up by 11am the next day. I thought old people got up at outrageous hours of the morning like 4 or 5am. I had sat at the dinner table, having made a pot of porridge for us both. I didn't even use the microwave, I made it in the pot slowly so it became creamy and not the caked lump it usually turns into when I microwave it. When she hadn't come out, I'd put the bowl in the oven to keep warm and left a note for her on the kitchen bench. I was kind of disappointed, really, I knew she didn't expect much of me as a slave and I was looking forward to impressing her. I had to get some kind of attention around here if I was to survive.
Now I was in the yard, weeding. It had all looked a bit wild when I'd arrived, some of the plants outgrowing their space and creeping over the path so I had to walk around them. She had a winding path that led up from the driveway to her house, and all around it was completely covered in plants of all kinds. I hadn't known where to begin, but I tried to make a lot of plants into less, which seems to be to goal of weeding.
I heard footsteps coming up the driveway and turned to see a guy walking up towards me, his shoulders up in anger and his white teeth glinting in the sunlight.
"What are you doing? Who are you? Does Trish know you're around?" He demanded of me all at once.
I looked at him, bemused. So, he calls my Great Aunt Patricia, Trish. I thought it beyond her to communicate with anybody in the neighborhood, let alone a youth. He looks to be about my age, give or take a few years. He has black hair and dark blue eyes, he's wearing a black tank top and faded black shorts. He's kind of muscular, too. While I consider his features, he considers mine. He then looks a bit embarrassed that he was so rude, looks cross again, probably for thinking he should behave any differently just because he clearly finds me attractive. I mean, judging by the way he glanced over me, his mouth an 'o' for one second. It's a whole wave of emotions that cross his face in the span of ten seconds.
"I'm weeding." I informed him, sitting back on my palms to look up at him without looking like a gremlin, squatting over the weeds.. "I can put them back if you think she wants them."
"That isn't a weed. That's rosemary."
"Oh." I looked down at the bucket full of apparently useful herbage that I'd collected so far with a grimace. I thought it smelt familiar."Well, you know, it was getting overgrown if you ask me. Needed a trim."
"So, who are you?"
"You know, it's customary to introduce yourself first when you ask such a question." I furrowed a brow at him. "Some may accuse you of being impolite."
"Some may say I'm just trying to protect a neighbour." He insisted. "I'm the neighbour. Oliver. My mother owns the day spa to the left of here, down the hill. Who are you?"
"Great niece. Sent to help my poor aunt who is going through something, apparently. She doesn't seem to move like an injured old person." I frowned, thinking back to how she took my bags off of me and hefted them to my room when I arrived, like she was the one doing me a favour. "But you know, some people hide things because of their pride. I would hate to leave and have the poor dear deteriorate on me."
"She never said you were coming."
"Well, it wasn't really a conversation we had. I think she was hoping that I wouldn't arrive and now she's hoping that I'll leave at any moment. Which really bugs me, you know. I mean, she doesn't know me. How does she know I am unreliable?" I frowned. "I'm sticking around, that's for sure. No matter the FOMO."
"Fomo?" He said slowly.
"I was supposed to do that whole, go to Queensland and get drunk with my friends at the beach, thing. Schoolies." I informed him. "But, I guess I can have fun here, too, try a different day spa every other day. Hey, I could try your mum's. If I'm nice to you, do I get a discount?"
He looked like he didn't know what to make of me. He seemed very on edge, and very much like he'd like to get out of here, if he were not still concerned I was some kind of threat. I let him off the hook, shrugging. I don't want to put him off by being pushy, spas are expensive and worth the long game.
"It's fine if not. I did save up so I could go on holiday, after all, and now what seemed like not much money to go on holiday, is a lot of money to be doing mostly nothing all summer." I said, trying to see the bright side. "I bet there's lots of nice places to eat around here, tourist destination and all, have you gone to any of them?"
"Er, yeah. With my parents." He winced. "The place further up the street is good, the breakfast place with the big egg posed as though there's going to roll down the hill, it's one of Australia's big things, The Giant Egg. There's a nice modern Australian place, Nature's Kitchen. They do a beef tartare, which kind of sounds gross if you haven't had one before, rare beef and all, but it's really great, it comes on crispy bread."
"Thanks. I'll give it a go." I grinned, feeling thrilled to get some kind of human contact. Even if it is, again, begrudging like my aunt's.
"So, what's your name?" He asked me again, this time like he actually wanted to know for purposes beyond interrogation.
"Savannah." I hold out my hand.
He looked at it, it was kind of dirty and my pink nail polish was chipped to hell and now fertilising the rosemary. He held his hand out tentatively and I clutched it against mine, smiling sweetly. He shook it two times and then let it go again, wiping his on the side of his shorts. "I will be asking about you."
"Go ahead." I shrugged. "I'm not hiding anything. Although, it does make me wonder."
"What does?"
"That you have spoken to my aunt. I mean, if she were a friendly lady, she'd have no need of me coming down here to help her out. She'd have her own network down here, raring to take care of her." I said. "From all accounts in the family, she's a hermit. How do you know her? Maybe you're the suspicious one?"
"You have an old lady that lives next door and you're a decent human being, you look out for her." He said, crossing his arms across his chest and frowning at me for daring to accuse him. "She was hard to get to know, that's for sure. But I know her."
"Aw, so you're a good boy?"
"Yes." He blushed and I smiled gleefully, not used to a blushing boy. The guy I saw back home certainly never blushed, it was kind of refreshing. Having an effect on those around you feels nice, who'd have thought?
"I guess I know where to go if I need to borrow some sugar." He looked at me, his eyes widening. "Oh, I mean literal sugar, like for baking. Not the, give me some sugar, give me kisses kind of sugar. Although…"
"Ah. I'm going now. Bye." He shuffled off down the drive, ducking his head in embarrassment with his hands balled into swinging fists at his side.
"I said although, I wouldn't … mind that as a substitute!" I called very loudly after him.
He didn't turn around but started shuffling faster. I burst into giggles, bringing my hands to my cheeks. Garrett wasn't half as cute as this when he was embarrassed, not even an eighth. He tended towards the humiliated side and usually faced it with anger, not blushes and ducked heads.
Picking up the gardening tools, I shook the dirt off of them and went to place them on the shelf on the porch for another time. I took off Aunt P's gumboots - which were navy blue and had little daisies on them, how cute of her - and placed them on the outside shoe rack, then gave myself a thorough dusting down and peeped through the window as I'd opened all the curtains this morning to let the light in. Aunt P was sighted, sitting in her chair in the lounge. She glanced over, then quickly away. She had been watching us.
I went inside and came over to her, waving.
"Please don't sit down." She said, looking at my dirty clothes and at the other chair that sat opposite hers.
"Greetings to you, too, Aunt P. I could do with a little more gratitude, this dirt is because I was helping you. I didn't get dirty just for my own enjoyment." I pointed out. "How do you know the neighbour boy?"
"What did he say?" She said, sounding like she didn't care too much what my answer was. Only, Aunt P could be fairly minimal with her words, so if she asked something, she cared about that something.
"Nothing. Just seemed to think I was trying to rob you of your rosemary."
She quickly got up and almost sprinted over to her window, peering out. She frowned."What did you do with it?"
"I put it in the green bin. You could season chickens for decades with the amount you've amassed in the garden, no worries." I assured her.
"Can you ask me before you start 'helping' me around here?" She let go of the window frame with a sigh and hugged her cardigan to her body, looking wearied. I swear, it was barely 3 and she'd been up for well, I don't know. She wasn't up at 11. Now she's tired again. I thought old people were supposed to sleep less.
"Well, I would have. I mean, you were asleep for some time."
"I've been … tired, lately." She explained. "He tends to wander, the boy. He hikes around the area, says hello when he passes. I think he thinks I can't look after myself, like some other people."
"You did say to my mum that you'd injured yourself," I told her. "You tell Kelly Anne that you're injured and she has to put her hand up to help, or my hands, as she feels she commands those too. You can only blame yourself."
"Your mum has a quality about her, an earnestness. Like my sister. It's hard to lie to her." She frowned, sounding like she liked and disliked this quality in equal parts. "Nonetheless, I think I've recovered. I don't need you."
"Are you saying this because you think I'm not earnest and that you can lie to me?" I wanted to know, narrowing my eyes at her. "I'm a good person, too, you know. This isn't how I imagined my summer, but I'm willing and able."
"It is unnecessary. You don't need to stay here to prove something to your mother." She said, walking over to me and touching my shoulder awkwardly, giving it a couple of perfunctory pats. "She told me how you were planning to enjoy this summer. Wouldn't you rather be off with your friends?"
"Ah. Tempting. I know your ways, great aunt. I won't be tricked." I wagged a finger at her and she snorted. "You'll take anything out of your book of tricks to try to convince me to go, but I won't go. I will keep to my word, no matter what."
"I'm not trying to trick you. I genuinely do not need your assistance." She said, "Plus, the porridge you made me didn't have enough milk and it was clumpy and dry. You took everything but weeds from my garden. You knocked off the nose of one of my knick-knacks 'dusting' earlier in the morning - don't you think I didn't notice, you placed it back with some kind of glue - good lord, I hope it wasn't the PVA in my stationary drawer - but I can see the crack. I don't see how you being here is anything but a hindrance."
"It's my first day, give me a break. Also, my porridge was creamy. It's not my fault it was left in the oven to keep warm for hours and then became dry. What time do you get up? So that I can keep your porridge at prime creaminess for tomorrow."
"I don't like porridge." She said and then with an afterthought, probably considering it was in her cupboard and not something I'd stocked, said,"Anymore."
"Going through a … three quarter life crisis?"
"Mm. My crisis is my breakfast food. Very dramatic, you see." She said dryly, giving me a bit of a smile. It was satisfying to see, given that she seemed reluctant to give any kind of approving gesture towards me.
"My mum always said I was like you, you know."
"Really?" She looked at me, seeming in disbelief.
"You would have thought she had said my sister was like 's quiet and driven. But no, me. I'm the black sheep. I'm the one who goes against the family values, much like you do, apparently. Stubbornly myself." I smiled, trying to charm her over to my side by placing myself on her's. She looked at me, bewildered, wondering how we could have anything to do with one another.
"How is that?
"She said I had 'nothing to do' this summer. In her opinion. My sister, however, is fast tracking her university course. She could have come here instead, she had the opportunity to. But, no." I shrugged. "My last hurrah was seen as a lesser sacrifice. Spending time with people I care about, not worth it. Frivolous. Silly. Stupid. The three things any family member could say to encapsulate who I am as a human being."
"Schoolies, Savannah?" She questioned, wrinkling her nose in apparent agreement with my mother.
"You rebelled by being unsocial, in your day. I rebel by being … less career focused. Times have changed, clearly. I'm sure you would have been encouraged to abandon your career." I shrugged again. "I'm encouraged to put my own personal happiness and life below my career."
"Yes. If only we could swap, we would have lived an unquestioned life." She agreed, considering it. "Although I'm not sure they would have put it that way, in my day. In my day, having a career was seen as freedom. Of being able to have your life in your own hands. Or, in a negative lens, being a shrew who wanted to be alone forever because she focused so much on herself, she failed to focus on others."
"Well, how many more annoying people would be around right now, bothering you, if you decided to have a family?" I smiled.
"Hm. I'm not sure if I find you annoying or not."
"You're not sure? That's the biggest compliment I've received, Great Aunt Patricia." I insisted. "I tend to be one of those, love them or hate them people. You know? I like that I'm keeping you on the fence, that you could swing either way. It's kind of thrilling."
"I've never had anyone tell me they found me thrilling before." She said.
"See, you know, this could be the start of something beautiful." I bounced off the floor, levering myself on the back of the chair and bopping about a bit, becoming suddenly enthused with the experience of being here. She pressed her lips together at this, looking at her chair in a proprietary way. I landed with a thud, stepping away and holding my hands up. "Sorry. I'm ruining it already. I got excited, is all."
"Please be careful of the furniture. I already broke one of the dining chairs recently." She said, sounding disgruntled with herself.
"How'd you manage that?"
"Don't want to talk about it." She sighed heavily
"We all break things sometimes."
"I do not want to hear that from you."
"Hey, I was trying to relate to you. Don't burn me, Aunt P." I scolded her. "I haven't broken anything. I mean, of your furniture. Knick-knacks, however, they were born to be knocked off the table in one fell swoop. So fragile, so tiny, so annoying to pick up when you're dusting. I outlaw them."
"Outlaw them when you have your own house." She narrowed her eyes. "Stay away from them. I'll dust, I've been feeling more energetic this week."
"Must be all the sleeping you're getting."
"Speaking of that, I might go have a nap. Don't rip out any more of my herbs or I'll pull them out of the green bin and roast you with them." She threatened me, her voice a low commanding growl that made my stomach twist in fear.
"Yes ma'am."
Author's note: Sorry for the double post. I somehow uploaded an entire chapter complete with its html, somehow? Lord. It's been so long, I don't even know how to use this thing. Please forgive any errors. I'm doing nano and wanted to upload some chaps as I went and so I very, very briefly went over it.
It would be great to hear from any of you that still remember me. Sorry for dropping off the face of the planet for so long. You might all be gone, at this point. Is FP even where most people post their stories, these days? Let this old lady know.