4
Shopping is a woman thing. It's a contact sport like football. Women enjoy the scrimmage, the noisy crowds, the danger of being trampled to death, and the ecstasy of the purchase. -Erma Bombeck
Ray woke to the rough jangling of broken glass hitting the bottom of a trashcan. He sat bolt upright in his old bed, trying to remember where the hell he was and why he was there. It took only a moment for the events of the past few days to catch up with him. Scrubbing a hand across his face, he glanced at the clock and groaned. He'd only been asleep for a few hours. It was strange, but it was just too hard to sleep alone. He'd gotten so used to Neela being there, that he just couldn't sleep without her.
The nerve-wracking sound of a vacuum cleaner roared to life somewhere in the house, and he stifled the urge to shout at Amy to knock it off. It had to be Amy making all the racket. No other person he knew would have just let themselves into his father's house and started cleaning without regard to the rest of the world's sleeping habits.
He pushed his body from the bed, wincing at the twinge in his leg. His leg had felt worse, he knew, but he couldn't help the slicing humiliation that always cut him whenever he experienced pain from the shattered and mended bones. He'd done something incredibly stupid and was going to have to live with the results. It was one of the few regrets he had but wasn't in any way at the top of the list. He snatched a pair of sweats from his bag and pulled them on before padding from the room in search of Amy. If he were nice enough about it, maybe she would get rid of the vacuum long enough for him to wring all the blood out of his caffeine system.
The growl of the vacuum sounded like a wounded animal as he pinballed down the hall to the living room. Bright shafts of sunlight arrowed through the front windows, making him squint against the glare as he searched for his aunt. When he found her, he couldn't help the smile that crossed his face at the sight of her.
She was dressed in a loose fitting cocoa colored dress with tiny white flowers all over it. A cream-colored cardigan sweater covered most of it, the sleeves pushed to her dimpled elbows as she pushed the sweeper back and forth across the carpet. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a messy bun at the back of her head and curled tendrils escaped to sweep across her neck. What made him smile was the fact that she was singing some spectacularly off key melody about love. For certain, Ray now knew that his musical ability hadn't come from his father's side of the family if Amy's singing was any indication.
"Amy!"
She screamed loud enough to be heard over the roar of the vacuum and whirled around with more grace than most women her size possessed. Her plump hand pressed to the space over her heart, she kicked off the switch of the sweeper, panting as she glared at him.
"You scared the life out of me!" she exclaimed, giving him a glower that just didn't seem to fit the pretty, good natured look of her features. "I thought you knew better than to sneak up on people."
"Well, if you hadn't been trying to wake the whole neighborhood with that thing, you would have heard me come down the hall."
She scowled, but couldn't quite pull it off before she laughed.
"I'm sorry," she said, turning back to her work. "But I didn't want you walking through here and cutting yourself on glass."
"I would have cleaned it up," he began, wondering if he would have. He had no desire to touch that photo again. Not at present.
"I know you men," she was saying as she gathered up the cord. "You can't find your socks without a woman's assistance." She waved a hand when he stepped forward to help her. "I've got it, kiddo."
She paused, her eyes rising to meet his and sadness came over her expressive face.
"Don't be mad about the picture, Raymond. Your dad…"
Ray sighed, turning away.
"I don't want to talk about the picture right now," he said, struggling to keep the resentment from his voice. "There's really nothing to say about it anyway."
He studiously ignored the audible sniffle from behind him as he left the room for the kitchen. Amy cried at the drop of a hat. She always had, but he couldn't help the guilt that rose in him, knowing that her tears were his fault this time.
"You're right," she said softly, following him. "I told him then that he should have told you he was there, but…" She broke off, swiping at her eyes and shaking her head. She took a long breath and forced a smile. "But he loved you, kiddo. He wanted you happy."
Ray clenched his fists on the kitchen counter as she said those words, keeping his back to her so she wouldn't see the bitter disbelief in his eyes.
"I'm sure you're right," he finally managed to grind out between clenched teeth. He reached for the coffee pot and filled the carafe with water from the sink.
"So what do you have planned for today?" she asked, dragging the trash can into the kitchen and placing it by the door, effectively changing the subject to something safer for both of them.
"I have to go into the city and buy a suit. The only one I had was ruined…" He paused, again reluctant to talk about anything having to do with his accident. "It was ruined," he finished lamely, spooning coffee grounds into the filter before closing the maker and jabbing the on button.
"I can take you if you like," she said, busying herself cleaning off the already pristine countertops with a rag. "You could buy your old auntie lunch while you're at it. Gene is off doing…God knows what he's doing, but he's not home. I could use the company."
Ray laughed in spite of his earlier feelings. His uncle was notorious for disappearing when Amy got into cleaning mode for fear that she'd find something for him to do. He could usually be found at his brother's house working on whatever wreck of a car Rafe had decided to unearth from a junkyard that week. Everyone seemed to know this but Amy, and no one wanted to betray Gene's obvious hiding place to let her in on it.
"Sure," he said, loyally guarding Gene's not so dark secret. "Give me an hour and we'll go."
She turned to give him a look that was both annoyed and amused.
"You want me to fix you breakfast before we go? You really are too thin. You work too hard."
Ray merely smiled as the coffee pot filled, declining the offered breakfast. If nothing else, Amy was like a mother to him. God knew that she was the closest thing he'd known to one since his mother had taken herself off to wherever it was she'd gotten to.
"Thanks, Amy, but I'm fine. I just need coffee and a shower."
Her brows drew together in skepticism before she sighed heavily.
"All right. But after the wake tonight, you're coming home for a good meal. I won't take no for an answer." She turned, headed for the door. "I'll pick you up in an hour. I just have to run home for my purse. And I have to leave Gene a note telling him where I went. If I don't, and he comes home, he'll get upset, and he's just not the kind of man to take such stress. He really should see a doctor. I tell him…"
The door closed behind her, cutting off her non-stop chatter. Ray shook his head and pulled a cup from the cupboard. He could never quite follow the wanderings of Amy's mind. She switched gears faster than a driver in NASCAR, carrying on one-sided conversations that didn't require an audience. Most people outside their family thought that Amy might be a bit crazy, but Ray knew better. She collected facts like some people collected stamps, tucking them carefully away until she could pull them out and show them off. She had a head for times, dates, people…it really didn't matter; she was a wealth of knowledge for anyone who had the courage to listen to a random jumble of other information before Amy got to the point at hand.
Ray smiled and poured his coffee before taking it with him to the bathroom. If he was lucky, he'd have half an hour to get ready. Amy could be late for anything…except a shopping trip. That was one thing that Amy would never miss.
000000
Four hours later, Ray wished that he'd just kept his mouth shut about shopping for a suit. In his humble opinion, shopping should be done with one objective in mind: Getting what you wanted and leaving. Period. There should be no window-shopping, no wishful thinking, no browsing the stores for bargains. Shopping should be a simple operation, and if Ray had been the man in charge, it would be an outpatient operation.
Amy on the other hand, felt that shopping was an adventure to be savored. A vacation for a day to be enjoyed to the fullest. She perused the sales racks with the stalwart eyes of a general observing her troops. Scrutinizing the smallest detail of each item she pulled off the rack to determine if it was worthy of her attention. By the time she decided that she was ready to eat, Ray was ready to throw himself in front of another truck just to end his misery.
"Are you hungry?" he asked hopefully.
She shook her head, peering closely at a pair of pants she'd just pulled off the rack. There was a miniscule spot on fabric that looked more at home in the seventies Go-Go era. She glanced at him and opened her mouth to say something before grinning and returning the item to its home.
"We'll go," she said. "I can see that look in your eyes that says I've been an absolute pain in the behind."
Ray murmured a denial, but in his head he agreed wholeheartedly. He tossed the garment bag holding his suit over his shoulder as she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. He'd found what he wanted in five minutes. No muss, no fuss. A black suit that looked very much like what he'd lost, a green shirt, and shoes. Amy had insisted on buying the shirt and socks, saying that she'd not had the chance to buy a birthday present for him yet, even though his birthday was three months off. Ray let her for no other reason than to stave off the tears if he didn't.
"Where are we eating?" he asked, his eyes darting for the front entrance of the mall.
"There is a fabulous little café here that serves the most wonderful lunch menu…"
He sighed as she tugged on his arm to drag him further from the entrance than was comfortable. He listened to her recite nearly word for word what was on the menu, give a detailed review on each item she'd tried, and greet the waiter that seated them by name. Ray hid his grin behind his menu as Amy asked the teenager about his family before ordering lemonade. Ray gave his order and shook his head slightly at the bemused look on the kid's face before he wandered off to get their drinks.
"Is your girl coming for the funeral?"
The question caught Ray off guard and he froze.
"The only reason I ask is if she is coming I'll make up another room…"
"Amy, Neela and I share a room."
She paused, her face reddening slightly before she lowered her eyes.
"I knew that," she said quickly. "It's just hard for me to remember that you're grown now. I still remember when you fell off your bike in front of my house and skinned your knee when you were five. Do you remember that?"
It was Ray's turn to feel embarrassed.
"Yeah. I cried for an hour and ate four cookies while you put a band-aid on it. It didn't even bleed."
She smiled, her plump face lighting up.
"You could even scream on key," she told him, and he laughed.
"No one would ever have guessed that I'd become a doctor."
She laughed and shook her head.
"I knew you'd do something great, kiddo."
Ray ducked his head from the proud look in her eyes. Praise always made him uncomfortable. Most of the time he did his best to hide it behind jokes or a false front. But before his aunt's kind heart, he was a child again. Shifting in his seat, he cleared his throat and thanked the waiter as he brought their drinks. When the kid was gone, he glanced at Amy, dreading what he was about to say.
"No, Neela isn't coming for the funeral. With me gone, they're short handed in the ER."
Amy sighed, disappointment written clearly across her face.
"I was so hoping to meet her. Any woman that can keep you in line has got to be something."
Ray grinned, wholeheartedly agreeing. Neela was something all right. Something extraordinary.
"She is."
Amy cocked one eyebrow and smiled.
"Just invite me to the wedding."
Ray's mouth dropped open but he shut it just as quickly. The usual protests that came to mind were wrong. He was hoping to marry her. Denying it was pointless. Instead, he took a drink to hide his embarrassment and pointedly ignored Amy's knowing look. He had other things he needed to think of anyway. Things that needed taken care of so he could get home and begin planning a wedding.
"I need to go back to Chicago the day after the funeral. Tonight after the wake, I was gonna go through some of Dad's papers. Just to get a head start on cleaning up the place."
Ray frowned as Amy's smile faded and she looked away.
"Don't worry about that, kiddo. I'll take care of it."
Ray watched as she busied herself arranging her silverware, sipping from her straw, looking over the menu as if she hadn't the already given him a word for word listing of what was on it. His frown deepened. She hadn't even protested his abrupt departure from Miami as he'd expected her to.
"Is there something I should know?" he asked.
She jumped as if he'd suddenly pulled out a gun and begun waving it around.
"Of course not. I just don't want you burdened with all those details that are bound to be painful. Gene and I will take care of it all. You just worry about your girl. Get married. Make me a great aunt."
Ray swallowed hard at the sight of her strained smile. Something was wrong. Amy never avoided anything. It wasn't in her nature. She could barely get from one end of the block to the other without getting lost, but she never avoided things. There was something going on that she was trying to keep from him. For whatever reason either to spare him pain or to simply protect her brother, it mattered little in the end. For a moment, Ray thought to call her on it. Push her until she spilled the truth. But he couldn't do it. Not with her pretty green eyes watching…pleading with him to let it drop.
"If you think you can handle it," he said slowly, watching her expression. Her face immediately relaxed in relief.
"We can, kiddo. Don't you worry about it." She smiled and leaned forward. "Now tell me about this girlfriend."
