"I just want to get Jefferson's little jacket," I whispered and tiptoed to the closet. Even though I made less noise than a baby mouse, Richard's eyes popped open.
"What . . . what is it?" he cried.
Melanie's eyes snapped open instantly, too. "Who is it?" she said.
"Now you see what you've gone and done," Aunt Bet snapped. "And they needed to rest so much."
"A fly couldn't have made less noise, Aunt Bet," I said. "They obviously weren't really asleep." I took Jefferson's jacket off the hanger.
"Where are you going?"
"For a walk on the beach," I replied. "It's a beautiful day. Too bad the twins can't come out," I added and left them quickly. I put my letter to Gavin in the mailbox for the mailman to pick up and then went down to the ocean with Jefferson.
Jefferson enjoyed our hunt for interesting shells, but every once in a while, he would stop and look out at the ocean and ask a question about Mommy and Daddy. Did I think they were together in Heaven? Would they have new children up there? Was there ever a time when they could come back, even for only a moment?
None of my answers satisfied him. His dark eyes only widened and took on the shine of forthcoming tears. He wanted only one answer—someday we would all be together again.
As we came up the driveway toward home afterward, we were surprised to see the hotel limousine in front. Suddenly Julius emerged from the house carrying a suitcase in each hand. He put each in the limousine's trunk.
"Who's leaving?" Jefferson asked me. "I hope it's Aunt Bet," he muttered, but it wasn't. It was Mrs. Boston, all dressed up in her Sunday church clothes and carrying a smaller suitcase when she appeared. As soon as we saw her, we broke into a run.
"Mrs. Boston!" I called. "Where are you going?" She looked up and smiled.
"Oh, I'm so glad you two come back before I left," she said. "I wanted to say good-bye."
"But where are you going, Mrs. Boston? I didn't know you were going anywhere."
"Neither did I," she said angrily. "You know that your aunt came down this morning and accused me of serving spoiled food. After breakfast, she returned to tell me I didn't know how to keep a kitchen properly clean and I didn't know how to properly serve people of quality and she didn't have time to teach me. She said it would be better for everyone if I just left. Then she paid me off and asked me to go immediately.
"I told her good riddance," she added.
"Oh no, Mrs. Boston. She can't fire you. You don't work for her; you work for us," I said desperately. What would life in our home be like without Mrs. Boston? I wondered.
"Poor, poor child," she said, putting her gloved hand on my .cheek. Then she smiled at Jefferson who was looking up at her sadly. "I did work for you, but you ain't in control of the money strings for a while yet, honey. Miss Bet let me know that for sure.
"It's best this way, I suppose. After a while she and I would only be at each others' throats. That woman . . ." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, babies. I took care of you both, helped raised you and it breaks my heart to have to go, but I can't stay now."
"Where will you go, Mrs. Boston?" I moaned, my tears starting to flow.
"Down to Georgia to my sister Lou Ann for a while. It's time I visited her anyway. We're both along in our years, you know," she added, smiling.
"We'll never see you again," I complained.
"Oh, I'll make my way back in due time. You take care of your little brother," she said. "And Jefferson, you mind your sister now, hear?"
I looked at Jefferson. His sadness had turned to fury quickly. He bit down on his lower lip and then broke from my side to run around the house.
"JEFFERSON!"
"Go look after him," Mrs. Boston said. She kissed me on the cheek and we hugged hard. "I'll miss you, child."
"I'll miss you, Mrs. Boston. Terribly," I added. She wiped a tear from her cheek and nodded.
"Quickly," she told Julius, "before I turn into mush on the spot." She got into the limousine and Julius closed the door and went around to get into the vehicle. The last thing I saw was the feather of Mrs. Boston's Sunday church hat in the rear window before the sunlight washed over the back of the limousine and turned the window into a mirror of light. Shocked, feeling a scream in my throat that just stayed there, I stared even after the car was gone. My legs had turned to lead along with my heart.
Slowly, in small ways, everything that had been a part of our wonderful world was slipping away. I never felt more lonely or more afraid of what was to come.
Jefferson had crawled through an opening in the lattice under the back porch of the house. I suspected he was under there. It was one of his hideaways and places to pretend and play. He sat snuggled in a corner, mindlessly moving a stick over the hard-packed ground.