Page 126 of Made
“So, promise to call me later.”
“I’ll do one better. I’ll meet you in your kitchen with a Starbucks in hand after you declare court closed for the season.”
“Perfect. Here’s the thing. There are three Mistletoe Spirits at the plaintiff table next to Max.”
“Uh-huh?”
“I can’t see them.”
She grew suddenly serious. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Can you help?”
“I guess. You want me to make them temporarily bigger?”
I deferred to Lochlan. “Would it be better to make them bigger or would it be better to improve my eyesight?”
To Evie, Lochlan said, “If you’re able to enhance Rita’s sight, just for the morning, I believe that would be preferable. That way, no one will know there was an issue with the magistrate.”
“Sure,” Evie said nonchalantly as she was already walking toward me. She stopped in front of my chair. “What’s your all-time favorite memory?”
“That’s easy. When they put you in my arms the first time.”
“Awwwwwww. Mom. You almost make it sound like you like me. Close your eyes and form that picture in your mind.”
I did. At first, nothing happened. Then the picture began to change. The colors were richer. The details were finer. I could see the individual stitches on the pink blanket wrapped around Evie’s brand-new little body.
“Wow. That’s just…”
“Incredible? No. Not really. I’m the fantastic Evangeline.”
“If someone thought to deny that before, they look like fools now,” I said.
“Okay. See ya later. Good luck with this one.”
“WAIT!” I shouted just as she put her hand on the doorknob. “I may need your help hearing them as well?”
“Oh, right,” said Evie. “Hmmm. Let’s see. Do you have any memory of a time when you wanted to hear something better?”
“Yes.”
“Well?”
“At the viewing the night before Birdie’s funeral. Your grandmother and great aunt were having a hushed but animated discussion in the funeral home alcove.”
“And you wanted to know what they said,” Evie accused. I nodded. “Even though you knew it wasn’t any of my business.”
“Hey. I’m an inquiring person who wants to know.”
She smiled. “Close your eyes and picture the scene.”
I did and saw myself watching my two elders in an intense back-and-forth.
My mother was saying, “This isn’t the time or place, Glad.”
My aunt came back with, “The pink hurricane lamp should be mine, and you know it.”
Oh, my gods!My aunt was being greedy about Birdie’s stuff. I wished I could take that memory reference back and continue to not know.
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