The family welcome Aunt Peewee's return, but something's wrong in Charmaine T Davis's creepy flash.
By this time, Mama's other siblings, their parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews and other tagalongs caught sight of Aunt Peewee too.
"Aunt Peewee!" The cries erupted like champagne corks popping at a wedding. "Aunt Peewee!"
Like a Godzilla tsunami, the whole family washed over her with tears, hugs and kisses. I wiped away a tear that had slid down my cheek, touched by the joyful welcome my aunt received. Before she had arrived, it was like we were all missing something or sighing over some hurt we couldn't name.
Becca, my five-year old sister said, "Is she famous?"
"No, Short Stuff," I said, running a knuckle across her soft, chubby cheek. "We haven't seen her in a long time."
"Well, why not?"
I shrug. "I don't know."
Becca's question troubled me, but I didn't know why. I looked at Aunt Peewee soaking in all the love and attention, giving hugs, accepting kisses. I felt happy. But was I supposed to be? A chill chased its way down my spine. Grief smothered me, bringing with it the old pain, an old pain renewed.
"Aunt Peewee! Aunt Peewee!"
And then I remembered.
Aunt Peewee wasn't supposed to be here.
Aunt Peewee died ten years ago.