Nana Belle Wins The Lottery

Chapter 4

Wednesday morning we get on a plane to South Carolina. Mom’s a teacher, and it’s July, so she’s free. Me, too.

We change planes in Denver. Mom’s already told me it will be a long flight and packed snacks. I’m making a list of things I want to buy in the notebook I always carry with me when I hear my mom sniffle. She pulls her purse out from under the seat, digs for a tissue, and wipes her eyes and nose.

“You okay, Mom?”

“Sure, honey, just thinking about things. The cabin air must be too dry.”

We’re quiet for a while. Me working on my list and Mom reading her k****e.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

I whisper, “You think Nana is going to give you some of the money she won?”

“Yes,” she whispers back. “She already told us she wants to give us a share.”

I lean in close. “Does that mean I get a bigger allowance?”

Mom laughs and hugs me. “We’ll see, young man. Don’t think I haven’t seen you working on your wish list.”

Finally, we land. While we wait for our luggage, Mom talks on the phone. I look around, but all I see are people talking on phones or waiting. The carousel finally jerks awake, and Mom clicks off the phone. She’s frowning.

“Is Nana Belle going to pick us up?” I ask.

“No. Apparently, Mary Beth is just too busy making dinner, and Nana isn’t feeling well.” She sighs then shakes her head. “Let’s look for a cab that will take us to the ferry. It sounds like that’s the only way to get to the island.” She says something under her breath that I can’t catch, picks up her suitcases, and we make our way to the door.

I do the same, except for the muttering.

A cab takes us to the harbor where we find the ferry. Last trip, the captain announces as we get on.

By the time we get off at the small dock on the island where Nana is staying, it’s starting to get dark.

I’m starving. We had eaten at McDonald’s when we switched planes in Denver and had snacks, but that seems like years ago. At least that’s what my growling stomach claims.

We walk up the lighted path to the beach house Nana rented. I wonder what Aunt Mary Beth cooked for supper. Is it fried chicken, or maybe grilled? We walk a few more steps up the slope. Is it hamburgers with gobs of ketchup and fluffy white buns that have been smashed on top of the burgers while they’re still in the pan? Yum.

Mom gives Nana a big hug.

“Mary Beth said you weren’t feeling well, Mom. Are you okay?”

“Yes, honey,” Nana tells my mom. “Just been tired is all with all the excitement and then the move here. Now you come here, young man, and give your nana a hug.”

I do, breathing in the nana scent of flowers and baking bread.

It’s Mary Beth’s turn next. She hugs Mom, but it is a quick hug and release. My auntie is even fatter than the last time I saw her, and I’m glad she didn’t swallow mom up in a bigger hug. She’s wearing a baggy dress, and I see crooked toes on her bare feet. I wouldn’t have noticed the toes except for the bright red toenail polish. She ruffles my hair but skips the hug. I sniff, still wondering about dinner.

“I wish you would have said something earlier,” Mary Beth says. “Mom and I had TV dinners since it was just the two of us.”

“Fried chicken,” Nana says. “Mary Beth had two and then finished mine.”

“Momma,” Mary Beth says. “You said you weren’t hungry. She pats her big belly. “I, on the other hand, was starving.”

“Sure,” Mom says, looking around. “Any of the frozen dinners left? We haven’t had anything to eat since the Denver airport. I’m sure Henry’s famished.”

I nod big time.

“You can look, Jennifer,” Nana says.

I sit down at the kitchen bar. Mom opens the freezer and rummages around.

“Rita will be here later,” Nana says.

“Not if she’s taking the ferry. We took the last one out for the day,” Mom says, still searching. She pulls out a package, looks at it, and puts it back. “Don’t you have anything other than fried chicken dinners?”

“I’m fine with that,” I chime in.

“Nothing wrong with fried chicken and spuds,” Mary Beth says. “Least it sticks to your ribs.”

“I can tell,” Mom says in that tone Dad and I know so well.

“Mom, chicken is fine with me,” I say for the second time.

“Girls, I’m not going to have any bickering,” Nana tells them. “I invited you all here, Rita too, because I want us to sit down and really talk with each other. God knows we had some difficult times when you were little.”

“Dad drank and we all suffered, you mean,” my mom says.

“Hush, don’t speak badly of the dead. I know your dad had problems, but he still did well for us. We always had a roof over our heads and food on the table. That’s better than some men I know. He worked hard and if he had a drink to relax, well—well, I just want us all to get along.”

My mom goes over and hugs Nana. “Sorry, Mom. I think it’s a great idea to get everyone together for a reunion. Thank you.”

Nana sniffs, pulls a tissue from her pocket, and wipes her eyes. “I just thank God that I was blessed with the winning lottery ticket.” She makes the sign of the cross—a touch to her forehead, stomach, left shoulder, right shoulder—then kisses her fingers and lifts them to the ceiling. I am surprised, considering I thought Nana was Methodist like us, but I don’t say anything.

“It came just in time,” she continues. “We’ve always owned the house, the one you girls grew up in, but I need to replace the roof. And the plumbing is bad. I haven’t used the bathroom upstairs forever since the pipe under the vanity rotted out. Got tired of having to empty the bucket whenever I ran water in the sink.”

“Mom, you should have said something. Peter and I would have paid to have a plumber come out and fix that.”

“You have enough going on in your life, with teaching school and taking care of Henry. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Everyone turns to stare at me.

Awkward.

“I’m thinking of selling the old house, anyway,” Nana continues. “I’m just rattling around in that big place, too much space. And the taxes and upkeep. That’s the expensive part.”

“But we all grew up in that home,” Mary Beth says all whiney. “Think of all the memories we have there.”

“So, you’re saying your terrible childhood wasn’t all that bad?” This from my mom in the sarcastic voice again. Two zingers in one day, a new record.

“How would you know anyway, Jennifer,” Mary Beth shoots back. “You being the baby and all, growing up after Dad started Alcoholics Anonymous.”

“Not that he ever took that seriously.”

“Stop it,” Nana says, slapping her hand on the countertop. “This is exactly what I was talking about. Bicker, bicker, that’s all this family has done for years. I’m tired of it.”

I keep my head down and go on eating the dinner Mom cooked in the microwave. This is interesting. Mom doesn’t talk about being a kid other than to say she couldn’t wait to go to college and get out of Nebraska. I pick up a chicken leg and chew on the bone. Mom watches, and then without me asking, pulls another dinner out of the freezer and puts it in the microwave. Mom’s good at reading minds.

“I’m gonna fix up the house and sell it,” Nana tells them. “Buy me a condo somewhere. A warm place on the beach, maybe. It’s beautiful here, and I’ve always wanted to live near the ocean. Winters are pleasant, everyone says.” She sighs, smiles. “I’m not going to miss snow at all.” The smile widens. “Think I’ll have enough money to get a little condo on the beach?”

Everyone laughs, and Nana grabs more hugs from us all.

The beach house Nana rented is big. In the great room are large windows and a sliding glass door that opens out to the beach. I step outside on the deck. There’s a full moon, and the light makes the waves look like they’re waving at the moon’s face. I can see that the deck wraps all the way around the side of the house. This is going to be fun. I breathe in the warm salt air and then go back inside, holding a hand over my yawn.

“You’re sleeping in the bedroom on that side,” Nana says, pointing to a door.

The kitchen is open to the great room, and, on both sides, I see other doors leading to what looks like a bunch more rooms.

“There’s a Jack and Jill bathroom between your room and the one on the other side.” Nana points to a door near mine. “Jennifer, you can sleep in the room on the other side of the bathroom, next to Henry.”

“I have the room closest to Mom,” Mary Beth says smugly, and motions to the opposite corner. “Mom has the master, of course. There’s a balcony off it, facing the sea.” She looks at me for a moment and then says, “Jen, if I knew you were bringing Henry here, I would have brought my girls. But,” she pauses, “I thought this was supposed to be a time for just Mom and us girls.”

Inside I groan but manage to clamp it before the groan pops out.

“Peter’s working on a big project,” Mom explains. “He’s been working ten to twelve hours a day.”

“And what does he do again that’s so all-fired important?” Mary Beth asks, one fist on a plump hip.

“Like I’ve explained to you before, Sis, his company writes software programs.”

She waves the hand not on her hip. “That seems to be, I don’t know, such a fuzzy science. At least my Stephen does something that we can visualize. He puts a ‘For Sale’ sign in front of a house, shows it to people, writes contracts, and then puts up a sold sign when the house sells. Real estate, that’s something you can see, touch, feel.”

“Touch and feel are the same,” I say.

“You know what I mean, Henry,” Mary Beth snaps. “Don’t get smart.”

Mom starts to say something back to her sister, but Nana Belle puts out a hand in a ‘stop’ gesture and gives a loud whistle. Go, Nana.

“This is exactly what I wanted to avoid,” she says. Then speaking slowly and deliberately, “We are all going to have a nice visit, and we are going to get along.”

Suddenly, I’m very tired. I grab a suitcase and go to my assigned room.

Five minutes later, I come back out.

“Nana, how do I connect with your Internet? You have a router set up?”

Nana looks puzzled for a moment then says, “No Internet out here, honey. And cell phones don’t work this far from the mainland. All we have is the landline. When it works, that is. That’s the number your mom called on earlier.”

“No Internet?” I can’t believe it. “I guess I’ll just watch TV.”

“No television reception either,” Nana is smiling. I’m feeling doom.

“Sorry, honey,” Nana went on. “That’s one of the reasons I selected this place. No distractions. There’s plenty to do. There are fishing poles in storage under the house. You can walk on the beach looking for shells, read, swim, snorkel. I think there are even a couple of bicycles around.”

I’m so doomed, I think as I slump back to my room.