"I told you," I said. "I don't like lying."
"Then don't talk much." she advised. She looked very angry suddenly. "Don't you see how the truth just hurts most of the time? My granddad has to face the truth about my mother. She's a tramp. He can't pretend things like your great-aunt. All he can do is suffer. Anybody asks me where my mother is I'll tell them she's visiting relatives. Or would you rather I tell them the truth and say my mother ran off with a no-good man and didn't care she left me behind? Huh? Which would you say? Huh?" she pursued.
"I don't know. My mother never ran off."
She shook her head and sighed. "Sometimes, talking to you is really like talking to someone from another world," she said, glancing at Ian's letters. "What did you tell the other kids in your class about your brother when you wrote that autobiogiaphy the first day? Huh?"
I bit down an my lower lip.
"Well?"
"I said he was very smart."
"And?"
"That he wants to be a medical research scientist."
"And?"
"That's all I said."
"See? You didn't tell them about the minder or where he is. The truth hurts, so you didn't tell it."
I looked away, the tears threatening to return.
"I'm just trying to tell you how to get along. Jordan. I'm not trying to hurt you. C'mon. Let's get started on the dinner. We'll pretend we're the cooks on a cruise ship or something. We can have some fun and forget anything sad.'
I turned to her sharply. "I thought you said we wouldn't pretend."
"I'm feeling sad all of a sudden. I'd rather pretend."
"You sound more and more like my great-aunt Frances," I said.
She smiled. "Ya? Maybe she ain't so bonkers after all. C'mon," she urged and got up.
I put Ian's letters back in the bag and the bag back in the closet. Then I followed her out and down the stairs. She thought it would be a good idea to make the dinner seem special by dressing the dining room table instead of eating in the kitchen. Great-aunt Frances poked her head in to watch us work. She laughed and clapped her hands, then told us that since we were eating in the formal dining room, she had decided she had to go upstairs and dress in something nice, fix her hair and put on some makeup. Alanis thought it was a good idea, and she and I went up and put on prettier clothes. When we came down, we set up candles and Alanis found some old tapes to play on the stereo system. It wasn't music she liked, but she said we should play it for Great-aunt Frances, who, when she heard it, wore a brighter, happier smile. She did look the nicest I had seen her look since I had come to live here.
Although I had made a simple salad and Alanis had only opened a box that had everything in it. Great-aunt Frances thought we had made the most wonderful dinner, especially with the candlelight and the nice dinnerware. It stirred more memories about her youth, and she began telling us about some of the wonderful dinners her mother had made and some of the family events, especially when relatives had visited.
"Emma was particularly fond of our uncle Bronson. He was our father's younger brother, a dashingly handsome man who was a private plane pilot. He worked for a corporation and flew all over Europe as well as America. He had wonderful stories for us and was always urging us to think about traveling. Emma did a lot of traveling after she was married, but I didn't do any.
"Once, Uncle Bronson took us both for a plane ride. He rented a small plane. My mother was very nervous and so was Emma, but she wouldn't admit it. She didn't care that I was the one Uncle Bronson wanted to sit up front, When I looked back at her, she always had her eyes closed. Once." she said. hesitating. "I told her she had her eyes closed most of her life and she got very angry. You know why she got angry?" Great-aunt Frances asked us. Neither of us had moved an inch or uttered a word the whole time she'd spoken. I could see that Alanis never expected Great-aunt Frances would talk like this. She was surprised and fascinated. "You know why?" Great-aunt Frances repeated, now really looking at us and not at her memories.
I shook my head. Alanis didn
't move or speak.
"She got agryy because she knew it was the truth," she said. "And she didn't want to hear the truth."
I looked at Alanis.
She was smiling.
Her whole face was saying, "See?"
The pecan pie cheered Great-aunt Frances up and turned her back to the childlike adult I knew, Afterward, we sent her to watch television while we cleaned up. As we promised, we joined her to watch one of her romantic movies. Alanis even joined her when she spoke to the set and told actors what to do and not to do. Finally. Great-aunt Frances got so tired that her eves began to close. Alanis said she was tired herself and told me she wanted to go up to finish reading the book Ian had given me. She said she was nearly done and it would be the first book she had really read cover to cover.
"Most of the time. I skip stuff," she admitted. "Or I get someone else to tell me the story."