I wonder how hard it is for Jean Louise to come back here even though it's only for a short period of time. Home definitely isn't home anymore, even for me. Atticus didn't want to live in our old house on Alabama Avenue anymore since I came home from the war. I asked him why but I never really got a straight answer from him. I knew that Miss Rachel's house burnt down while I was away and she went down with it. I also knew that Miss Maudie had fell ill and died shortly before D-Day. Atticus is a seventy-two year old now and I would have to say that all that mortality was beginning to grab him by the balls. Our new house is very new in every sense of the word. Atticus seemed to really like it and as far as I'm concerned if he's happy, I'm happy.

Calpurnia is no longer with us, either. She's not dead in the biblical sense but she's dead to me. When I had my heart attack she gave up on us so I had long since given up on her. She was the closest thing to a mother I had since my own mother died at the age of six. I don't understand how a woman can help raise you and then turn her back on you when things looked grim. Then again, Atticus, my own father, has done a lot of things I can't believe but he would never, ever abandon his children when we needed him. I have a whole new appreciation for my Aunt Alexandra for stepping up to the plate and helping take care of Atticus like she does.

"Here we are," Hank announces as we pull up in the driveway.

"Good!" Jean Louise shreiks happily.

"Now, Jean," I say, grabbing a hold of her shoulder. "Don't start with Aunty, okay?"

"As long as she doesn't start with me."

"Come on," I groan as she gets out of the car. Aunt Alexandra and Jean Louise are like fire and ice, they just don't mix. I'll be the first one to tell you that my sister's no saint but Aunt Alexandra likes to create her own storms and then cry to Atticus cause it rains. I climb out of the car and sprint up the steps to catch up with Hank. I always liked a good shitshow.

"Hey, Atticus," Jean says as she hugs him. His rheumatoid arthritis is really starting to kick his ass and when he tried to return my sister's hug it almost made me hurt.

"Jean Louise," I hear Aunt Alexandra pipe up. "Did you really come down here dressed like that?"

Oh no, here we go. Aunty's favorite past time has been harrassing my sister about how she looked. As far as I'm concerned, I think she looks great. Jean has really slimmed down again since adolescence and she can pull of a tank top and slacks just fine. The thing I always found funny was the way she criticized everyone else but she has failed to realize how ridiculous those corsets look. There's no way her watermelon tits could natually sit on her chest like that and she has an ass big enough to serve tea on. God, why am I thinking about am I thinking about that?

"Good Lord, Aunty, Maycomb knows I didn't wear anything but overalls till I started having the curse-"

Jesus, like I needed to think of that, too. I'm definitely leaving early if this is how it's going to be.

"That'll do, Scout," Atticus piped up. "Apologize to your aunt. Don't start a row the minute you get home."

"Girl can't help it," I piped up, half-jokingly.

"I'll help you in a minute," Jean said in a non-threatening tone. Hank just stands there smirking like the idiot that he is.

"No need. I think I'll head out."

"We just got here though," Hank finally piped up.

"Yeah, I know. I'll see you around though."

"Gonna go see Sara?"

"Yeah."

"Well, see you later," Jean creeps up beside me to give me a kiss goodbye. I happily return the favor.

"Bye, son," Atticus yells out as I open the door.

"Bye, Atticus," I turn around to answer back. "Bye, Aunty."

I don't hear Aunty respond back to me but it doesn't really matter anyway. I hop into Atticus' car and turn on the ignition. God, I wish I could have a smoke right now. The doctor told me to quit right after my heart attack and I'm doing what I've been told. Not saying it hasn't been hard, though, whenever stressful situations arise I could smoke a whole pack without giving it a thought. I didn't want to think anymore; I just want to see Sara, head out to the Landing, and have a good screw.