Page 56 of That's Not a Thing

Suzette is the Antiguan housekeeper who’s been working for Aaron’s family since he was an infant. She’s nearly seventy years old, and Gladys adores her. She was hired as a babysitter for Aaron and his younger brother, Cole, but Gladys grew so attached to her over the years that she convinced Suzette to stay long after there were any children to care for.

“Why don’t I just go and get it?” I start backing toward the house.

“No, sweetie, it’s fine. Suzette and I are practicing our texting with each other. I’m trying to catch her up with the times, you know?” She shrugs prettily, looking younger than her years. Now that her face is tilted up toward me, I can see her cheeks beneath the hat. She has applied too much rouge.

I sit on the long lounge chair next to her, kicking off my flip-flops and crossing my legs into a pretzel in front of myself.

“So, I guess you haven’t spoken to Aaron?” I ask, cutting to the chase.

Her face falls as she looks at me.

“He might have broken up with me last night.”

“Broken up.” She repeats it, as if trying to determine that meaning of the phrase.

I can only nod.

“Oh, honey, that can’t be.” She straightens like she’s about to stand, to run off to go fix this misunderstanding. Her floral cover-up rises along with her, giving me a glimpse of the dark bathing suit she has on underneath. But then her posture slackens again as she settles back into her seat and asks, “Something with Wesley?”

“We kissed.” I wince as I add, “And then some.”

She swallows but otherwise shows no immediate reaction. I might have preferred for her to flinch or slap me. I’m ready to be punished.

“And?” she asks, cautious, controlled.

“And it gave me closure. Clarity. It erased any doubt about whether my feelings for Wesley should stand in the way of my future with Aaron. There are no feelings for Wesley. Not like that. Not anymore. It took me too long to figure it out, but now I finally understand.”

“But Aaron saw?” I can tell she’s working to sound neutral.

“No, I told him.” I wrinkle my whole face, scrunching it up as I lean backward, bracing for the tirade I deserve.

“Mm-hmm,” she says.

Just then, I notice Suzette walking toward us with a tray.

“Merry, merry, bo berry!” she sings as she approaches, her long red sundress trailing behind her.

“Hi, Suzette.” I smile up at the willowy woman and feel tears spring to my eyes when our eyes meet.

“Oh, honey, what?” She puts the melamine tray down on a small, circular table and steps closer.

“She and Aaron.” Gladys waves her hand dismissively. “Some trouble. He’ll get over it.” She’s surprisingly flip as she reaches for the pitcher beside her and pours me a glass of the reddish plum tea she loves.

Suzette looks from Gladys to me, the dark ponytail at the base of her neck moving from side to side.

“Mama always knows.” Suzette shrugs. “You hang on in the meantime.” She nods in encouragement and then starts making her way back toward the house.

“That’s not why I’m here, though.” I turn back toward Gladys and sip the tea. Too sweet for me.

“Oh?” Gladys asks as a slight breeze picks up. She moves her cell phone, placing it like a paperweight on top of theWall Street Journalthat is rustling beside her on the lounger.

“I know about the cancer.” I let that sit for a beat, before adding, “You have to tell Aaron.”

She’s silent, and I imagine that she is trying to determine how to respond to me. She hates any sort of confrontation. Like her son, she prefers to remain a people-pleaser.

“Your mother told you?”

“Last night.” I nod, noticing that I’m sweating again, despite the breeze. “After I told her about ... everything.”