The Weather Inside by Emily Saso

Author:Emily Saso [Saso, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-01-12T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Days without Henry: 3

32

They don’t notice me when I walk inside, my mother and Steve. They’re layering filo pastry into a pan, the sheets as translucent as ghosts. They’re focused on their work, as though the pastry might swoop up and vanish if they look away. So I don’t have to be too precious about it when I jam my souvenir tote bag into the closet with Margaret’s purse and Kristie’s jacket. My growing collection of stolen things.

“Your face looks terrible,” I say, stepping into the kitchen.

Margaret’s eye is purple as jelly. A small welt, outlined in dried blood, marks her right cheek. It’s shaped like bees’ wings.

“I think it makes you look tough,” Steve says, flexing his wrinkled, flabby muscles. “No one better mess with Margie. Margie: Warrior Princess.”

My mother giggles. “You’re so silly.”

“Looks like Gloria got you with a left hook,” I say. “Hit you with that bee ring of hers.”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” my mother says. She turns to Steve, who demonstrates how to paint the filo layers with butter. She’s too gentle so Steve puts his hand on hers, applying more pressure.

“The dough is stronger than it looks, Margie.”

“Did you know you should always clarify the butter first?” she says to me. “That’s the secret to a golden crust.”

“You’re such a good student,” Steve says.

“I have an excellent teacher.”

“So are you two baking buddies now?” I say. A bowl of pistachios, green as limes, sits on the counter. I dig into it and roll the nuts around in my palms like dice. “Because, Margie, I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to consort with a worldly vessel of Satan.”

They look at me blankly.

“It’s just baklava, Avory. Relax.”

“You were gone for nearly two days,” Margaret says. “I didn’t have a key, I couldn’t leave. I had no idea when you’d be back.”

Steve sprinkles nuts on the pastry like a gardener spreads seeds. “I came to cook — our deal, remember? — and she was here.”

My mother hovers over his shoulder. “I was in my robe and he just waltzed in.”

“She ran to the kitchen so fast I couldn’t even —”

“I pulled out a knife, Avery! I couldn’t believe —”

“I thought I was going to die a bloody —”

“I wasn’t going to stab you.”

“What’s with you Gauthier women and knives?”

My mother bumps Steve’s hip with hers and giggles again. Steve smiles. A gold incisor I’ve never noticed gleams like treasure.

“He brought me an air mattress.” She points to a box by my television. A happy family in a campsite. All the comforts of home.

“The poor woman can’t sleep in a chair, Avory.”

“And he made me a key.”

“Excuse me?” I say. “You made her a what?”

“A key to your apartment.”

“And now he’s teaching me some recipes.”

“It’s as simple as that, Avory.” He winks at Margaret. She winks back.

“You’ve got to be joking,” I say. “Are you two flirting?”

“Don’t be silly, Avery.”

“We aren’t? Oh my aching heart!” Steve clutches at his chest. My mother howls.

I can’t handle this on an empty stomach, so I reach for more nuts.

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