“Bob Don, so good to see you. You, too, Gretchen,” she added with a considerable drop in enthusiasm. She wielded the Chihuahua into Bob Don's face. “Give Sweetie a big oP kiss!”
Bob Don opted instead to pat the tiny critter on the head. I couldn't blame him, as Sweetie's tongue draped out of its mouth in the summer heat.
“Oh, you'll hurt Sweetie's feelings! And him being a blood relation!” The woman, whom I now supposed to be Bob Don's aunt Lolly, frowned and cradled Sweetie in her arms. Tom rolled his eyes in exasperated impatience. Gretchen coughed. The dog was a blood relation? Perhaps I wasn't the only surprise on the family tree.
“Are we the first ones here?” Gretchen ventured to break the sudden silence.
“Not hardly. Everybody else is already up at the house. Uncle Mutt's in rare form. Be warned.” Tom's eyes locked on me in the same calculated scan that Rufus had performed back on the coast. “This him?” His voice hadn't gotten any friendlier.
“Yeah, it is,” Bob Don said, smiling genuinely for the first time in a couple of hours. 'Tom, this is my son, Jordan. Jordan, this is my cousin Tom Bedrich.”
I extended a hand and Tom took it in a macho death grip that went beyond firm. I squeezed back for all I was worth. “Well, you look enough like a Goertz. I guess.” His pale blue eyes went to Candace and a smile touched his lips. It was a grimy grin and I didn't like it one bit. However, I told him I was pleased to meet him.
“And, Jordan, this is my aunt Louisa Goertz Throck-morton. Aunt Lolly, this is my son Jordan.”
Aunt Lolly surprised me with a deep curtsy. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, my dear boy.” She sprang back up, brandishing the dog. “And this is Sweetie, who in a previous life was your great-uncle Charles Throckmorton.”
“Uhhhh-” was the only response that came to mind. My mama didn't raise no social morons, though, so I ignored her announcement about her husband's reincarnation. “It's a real pleasure to meet you, ma'am. Hi, Sweetie,” I improvised, patting the dog's head.
“Oh, my dear, you must call me Aunt Lolly. Everyone does.”
“Okay. Aunt Lolly, Tom, this is my girlfriend, Candace Tully.”
Tom took Candace's hand with considerably more enthusiasm than he had mine. “Pleasure to meet you. Do you go by Candy?”
“Never voluntarily,” Candace said politely.
“Then Candace it is. A lovely name for a very lovely lady.” Tom suddenly seemed aware of his disreputable appearance, dragging a hand across his dirty, worn polo shirt. “Y'all have to forgive my clothes. I've been puttering around the island all afternoon. I didn't mean to be the official welcoming committee, but I saw the boat coming over. I was just heading back to change.” During this monologue his eyes went from Candace back to me. I steeled myself to get stares for the next couple of days. I refused to let myself be rattled and I just gave Tom a noncommittal grin.
I tried to imagine him slicing letters from a magazine to construct pronouncements of hate, or smearing blood across an innocent greeting card. Tom I could see doing it; Aunt Lolly I couldn't. She seemed ditzy but basically harmless.
“Well, welcome to the family, Jordan. Let's get y'all settled.” Tom grabbed Gretchen's bag and headed toward the house.
“Would you like to carry Sweetie, darling?” Lolly asked Candace. My own sweetie smiled and took the dog, holding it close. One stray paw touched Candace's left breast, and Lolly smirked.
“Oh, Sweetie! He was just that awful when he was Charles. Bad, bad boy!” She waggled a finger in her pooch's face, who eyed it with utter disdain.
Candace smiled politely in agreement, deferring to Aunt Lolly's more cosmic knowledge, and shot me a look of desperation. I was too busy shooting one at Bob Don, who just smiled and shrugged.
We followed Tom, like sheep listing after a herder. I don't think Sweetie got a chance to grope Candace again.
We walked up and past the stretch of dunes, heading toward the main house. It stood on the barrier flat of the island, grassy and weedy with plants. Wildflowers-rosy salt-marsh morning glory with arrowhead leaves, a bed of bluebells, a wooden post twining violet with butterfly pea- made bright explosions of color. Grasses of different varieties sprouted along the path leading up to the house, much of it knee-high. Not far from the house was a large greenhouse, where I could see even more plants profusing. A well-maintained porch wrapped around the entire big, white house, with wicker furniture so guests could sit and enjoy a cooling breeze off the bay.
Bob Don gestured toward the greenhouse and spoke to Rufus. “Jake and Mutt pottering away?”
Rufus shook his head. “Not much lately. Mutt's too busy for hobbies and Jake's feeling a little peaked.”
“Mutt needs a new hobby,” I heard Lolly mutter.
As we went up the steps, I thought: Here we go. Your life's never going to be quite the same again. You'll never think of family quite the same again. I half expected that if I glanced over my shoulder, I'd see Mama and Daddy, standing by the dock, waving goodbye to me. I was a Poteet-I would always be a Poteet-but none of that would matter to these folks. I would be a part of whatever strange collective history the Goertzes had formed, the intangible web of love and hurt that binds families together.
An attractive young woman, dark-eyed and dark-haired, greeted us in the front entrance. She gave a hearty kiss on the cheek to Bob Don and a tight, affectionate hug to Gretchen. “Aunt Gretchen, you look wonderful!” I could see the happy light in Gretchen's face; had she heard that often from the Goertzes when she was lost in her alcoholic fog? Even before Bob Don could introduce me, the young woman was already kissing my cheek.
“Jordan! It's so great to meet you! I'm your cousin Deborah Goertz.” She held me at arm's length for a moment, eyeing me critically. “And isn't it a shame we're kin? You're just too cute.”
Embarrassed, I managed to laugh and introduced Can-dace, who was then treated to another warm Deborah reception-a kiss on the cheek and a cheery hug. “And Bob Don didn't tell us you had such a pretty girlfriend. I'm so glad you're here. There's not many folks around our age. Except Aubrey, who I swear acts like he's sixty anyway. Old fuddy.” Her voice, warm and sweet like caramel, could reduce men to abject slavery. I liked her immediately and could tell Candace did, too.
“If you are quite done being the Welcome Wagon, Deb,” Aunt Lolly intoned, reproof in her voice, “perhaps you'd show Jordan and Candace to their rooms. Bob Don and Gretchen, y'all are in your regular room at the end of the hall. Why don't y'all get settled and then join us down here for cocktails? Then we'll all get acquainted and eat.” She patted me on the arm, smiled wanly at Candace, and glided from the room like a spirit. Only the vague smell of her cit-rusy perfume declared she'd been in the room.
Deborah made a wrinkled face at her aunt's departing form. “Speaking of old fuddies-she needs a little more sugar in her diet.” She grabbed Candace's bag. “Follow me, troops.”
The stairway she led us up was dark, in stark contrast to the glaring summer light outside. The banister was heavy and worn by several decades' worth of sliding palms. The stairs bent at the second floor, then bent again to rise to the third. The house must be older than I originally thought, built perhaps in the last century. The floor, the walls, the stairs all held an enclosing permanence that felt choking. It was not an airy house and an invisible denseness pressed against my skin. Deborah kept up a line of patter all the way up the stairs. “So you've already met Tom and Lolly- anyone else yet?”
“Rufus,” I answered.
“Ah. Uncle Mutt's marionette. Rufus is okay, but he's not one of the world's great thinkers.” Deborah paused at the second-floor landing, one hand on an ornate orb of wood on the staircase. “And have you made the acquaintance of Aunt Sass yet?”