Page 58 of The Dom

Mom frowned. “I didn’t know they knew I had a kid. I didn’t bother sending them an invitation to the shower or an announcement when you were born. I assumed they’d be as close-minded as before. A baby wouldn’t fix that.”

“All right,” I said as I finished with the last glass. “That’s where we’ll start. I’ll ask how they knew about me.”

Mom nodded and followed me into the living room. My grandparents were on the couch while my aunt had taken my favorite chair. That was fine. I wasn’t planning on sitting. Too much nervous energy. I took the tray of glasses around, managing a tight smile for each stranger.

“You know, I didn’t get the chance to ask how you knew who I was.” I set the tray aside and picked up my own glass.

“It was just obvious, honey,” my grandmother said with a smile I didn’t quite trust. “You’re the spittin’ image of our Bobbi.”

I glanced at Mom. I’d never heard anyone call her Bobbi.

“I go by Roberta, Mom. And I think what Ashlee wants to know, what we both want to know, is how you knew my daughter’s name is Ashlee.”

I’d never heard my mother’s usually gentle voice come out so hard.

“We saw that picture,” Aunt Janette spoke up.

If she smiled, she and Mom would resemble each other, I realized with a start. Her hair was more auburn than a true red, and she was slender where Mom had curves, but the features were there.

“What picture?” Mom asked.

Oh. I had a feeling I knew which one.

“The one with her and her friend or whatever he is,” Janette continued. “I thought she looked a lot like you, but there wasn’t a name, so I started looking. Tennessee isn’t New York City, but we know how to use the internet.”

Tennessee explained the accent. I’d never caught it from Mom, and now I wondered how long it’d taken her to get rid of it.

“Seems my niece found herself a man.”

Maybe Janette just made bad first impressions, but I really didn’t like her.

“Janette, you hush now.” Granny – the name still spun me – took a long draught of her tea and then smiled at me. “We never knew Bobbi had a child, and once we realized she did, why, we had to come find her. We wanted to meet our grandbaby.”

“It’s not like you don’t already have grandkids,” Janette muttered.

“Yours or Chester’s?” Mom asked.

Janette glared at her and held out her left hand. A ring shone on her finger. “Larry and I’ve been married for twenty-eight years. Got four kids. Three girls and a boy.”

“You remember Larry Morrisey, don’t you, little bee?” Gramps spoke up. “Graduated a year or two before you.”

Mom nodded. “Quiet guy. I remember.”

“Ashlee, you’re what, twenty-one?” Granny asked.

“Twenty-three.”

She nodded. “Same age as Janette’s middle girl, Yvette. Estella’s three years older; Pauline’s three younger.”

“Trenton’s sixteen,” Gramps said. “Didn’t think we were gonna get a boy after all those girls, but Larry had it in him for one at least.”

This was the most bizarre conversation I’d ever been a part of, but judging by the look on Mom’s face, it wasn’t anything new for her. What would it have been like, I wondered, growing up with this sort of uncomfortable, stilted conversation where no one said anything real?

“Chester doesn’t have any kids?” Mom asked.

Granny’s mouth flattened, and Janette scowled. It was Gramps who answered, “He went and got converted by those Jehovah’s Witnesses. Married one of ‘em and they moved to Pennsylvania. We get Christmas cards, but that’s about it.”

So, Mom wasn’t the only one of her siblings who’d turned out differently than their parents had expected. Maybe seeing my picture in the paper had prompted them to rethink how harsh they’d been. They could fix things between them and Mom, get back some of what they’d lost. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that things would be all rainbows and unicorns with a single visit, but maybe, just maybe, I could have the bigger family I’d always wanted.

---