Story Time: A White Lie

Marica sighed. Her nephews, all three of them, were running around the pond and refusing to come back to the porch. She looked on as the young boys splashed one another and giggled. They were engrossed in a game of tag, albeit having difficulty as they had to wade instead of run. She decided to call out to them once more.

‘Boys. You won’t get any supper if you don’t come out now!’

The boys paused until one decided to pipe up. ‘Does that include dessert?’

‘It very well may.’

The children – Nate, Grady, and Rhett, all sloshed onto the grass. Marica set out several chairs and ran back and forth a few times, unstacking all the plates and unwrapping the food, including the cake, so that it could be laid out on the foldable tables that were always open and held her flower vases. She took one sniff of the Yellow Rain Lily arrangement she had created herself and set the vase on the floor, along with the other flowers. She only liked the yellow lilies. Any time a white one was found in the pond, she would pluck it away, even if she had to hike up her dress to get to it in the less shallow areas of the body of water. They were so grotesque to her.

Approximately ten minutes into the meal, Grady put down his roast beef sandwich and prodded one of the yellow lilies with the heel of his shoe as the flower and its container laid next to his foot.

‘These funny things. Why not get the better looking ones?’

‘There are no better ones,’ Marica responded promptly.

Nate picked up his fork from the potato salad and motioned at the pond. ‘The white ones.’

Marica felt a pang in her chest and rose immediately. ‘You see any today?’

The child did not answer, opting to attack his food with the utensil weapon he held in hand. Marica felt the heat rise into her face and her vision blurred.

‘No ma’am.’

She took a sigh of relief and sat back down.

‘Thank you, Rhett.’

Rhett was always the respectful one. The quiet one, too. He had grown out of his whiny phase but not reached the rebellious one yet, being the middle child at the age of twelve. Meanwhile, Nate would give her a near heart attack with all his suggestions. How could he mention those ugly weeds? They didn’t grow around the pond any more. Well, there was a stray one here and there. But, those never lasted long under her watch.

‘You boys better be enjoying this meal.’

‘We are. But, I have a question.’

Marica felt the frown lines appear on her forehead as she raised her eyebrows at Grady.

What was he going to ask this time?

‘Ha. Aunt Mari, you always get so worked up.’ Nate was busy building a fortress with his fork in the potato salad.

‘Watching a primary school age boy like you, how could I not be?’

Nate only huffed.

‘That’s the thing I wanted to talk to you about.’

Marica turned to the teen of the group.

‘What, Grady?’

‘You wouldn’t need to watch us if someone else were here.’

‘Like?’

Grady’s indirect ways bothered Marica. Who was going to watch them? Some cute older babysitter? They were stuck with her whether they wanted to be or not; no one else was available to watch the three devils. The family lived in the middle of gun-ho nowhere, Alabama. It was all forest for miles around and the one car, a Cadillac Roadster, probably wouldn’t even make it another ten years to see 1960. She was aiming to raise them just long enough for them to reach adulthood, then they’d go to the nearest town and pursue further education after completing ‘Marica’s Rigorous Homeschool’.

‘Our parents.’

Grady was not giving his Aunt Marica any eye contact. He was focusing on the architectural masterpiece his brother was building.

‘What was that? I didn’t hear you clearly.’

‘Our ma. Or pa.’

‘Not an option.’

Grady looked back at his aunt. Both were red in the face, but for different reasons. His aunt decided to change the topic.

‘Well, today is your birthday.’

Marica placed a candle on the cake. One single candle would be enough to get the point across. It was every year. Fifteen were not necessary. Everyone there knew how old Grady was and Marica recalled the fifteen years she spent raising him vividly, in the same way she recalled raising Rhett for twelve and Nate for six. It had been overwhelming and she had the frown lines to prove it, but worth it if it kept them functioning. Besides, it would have been what her sister Luanne wanted.

She lit the candle. ‘What is your wish?’

‘The same every year.’

‘To be an adult so you can leave? You get closer to that every day and —’

‘You raise us here, spending all your time just doing chores and with these goddamn piss-colored flowers! Not telling us who the hell our mom is! Are you even our aunt?’

Marica pursed her lips. Sure, she was their aunt. Sure, she liked yellow flowers – not the white ones. But, how could she tell them where their mother, much less their father was?

‘My sister and your father both work overseas. Oh, and I am your aunt.’

Well, her sister had worked overseas for a time, so it was not a total lie. That was why Marica had agreed to raise the children. They had each agreed that country living was more stable than willy-nilly travel. Besides, the source of income was more steady with the flower shop Marica ran than the haphazard freelance writing income Luanne garnered. But that was no longer why Luanne could not see her lovely boys.

‘You’ve said that before!’

‘You’re lucky I didn’t say a word more with the way you’re speaking.’

Grady stood up and picked up a vase. He flipped it over so that the water dripped into his brother’s potato salad, drowning it, and the flower itself fell to the ground looking untouched, unscathed, until Grady stepped on it. The vase itself went flying into the pond and was swallowed with a gulp from the body of water. Marica stopped breathing. She barely even saw the glass container shine in the sunlight before it sank without a fuss.

Nate was annoyed that his hard work had gone to waste and was complaining. Rhett gazed on in horror until Marica took Grady by the ear and dragged him all the way around to the back of their cabin which was a ways off, out of their view and hearing. The difference between the two boys and their brother Grady was that they had accepted the idea of their parents never coming back. If their parents magically did come back from their enigmatic overseas jobs, would their way of life improve much? Probably not. Their lives were decent and while they had curiosity, it was never enough to argue with the woman who had raised them since they were wee toddlers.

‘When are you gonna say it? They abandoned us, right?’

‘No.’

‘Then what?’

‘Why does it matter? Either way, they’re not here now. If they get done with work, you’ll see them. If not, then I can’t do nothing about it.’

‘Not even one letter?’

‘They’re really busy.’

‘For years?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Then, I’ll have the same wish every year; to see Ma and Pa?’

‘Dear, I’m sorry.’

Grady’s anger left him. There was nothing to say and it would only go in circles with Aunt Mari, he knew this. It always did. He’d ask, she’d dodge as if her life depended on it, then he’d contain his emotions and it was the end of the discussion until the next time he’d bring it up. Today was the exception; he had let his anger and frustration free – and even that had not worked. Mari had been resolute in her vague answers, cool as a cucumber. It was all the same. He was crying now.

‘I’ll be inside.’ He began heading towards the front of the cabin.

Marica nodded. ‘Apologize to Nate for his food and Rhett for scaring him.’

‘I’m sorry for the vase.’

‘Are you really? Or are you saying that because you feel like you should?’

The boy stopped in his tracks. ‘The effect is the same. Why does the reason matter?’ Then, he continued the walk.

Her own eyes widened at his answer. ‘I’ll be inside in a bit,’ she yelled after him.

Marica saw something bright yellow out of the corner of her eye. It was a petal stuck in her hair. She thought of the Yellow Rain Lilies. Those had been her sister’s favorite type of flower when she had visited the flower shop. Later, her sister had made trips to the cabin often and she’d welcomed her with open arms every time. The final visit, she brought her spouse and there was an argument. On that drunken day, she and her husband had drowned in the pond. Only the white lilies were growing.

‘Luanne…’

Grady is just as stubborn as you.

Marica felt a chill through her spine and began the walk to the front of the cabin to escape the uncomfortable draft.