Excerpt: Grand Court

Marcie clears her throat and Leslie turns to look at her. Her eyebrows arch pointedly at her two siblings before indicating with her head that they should follow the others. Larry, Leslie and Marcie have talked earlier in the day, anticipating their aunt’s arrival. She has been growing increasingly irritable since Frannie’s fall—first, when Larry and Leslie were able to convince their mother, inexplicably and without much effort, to move to Grand Court, and then when Fran snapped at her sister in the applications store. Like everyone else in the family, Beverly is used to sulking after such grave insults to her pride.

They find their aunt supervising Mike and Patty as they slowly ease the crate of whatever into her trunk. It is a nice night, Leslie thinks, clear and without too much wind or humidity. Far too pleasant for the insurmountable task that lies before them.

Mike catches on immediately after he sees his wife and her two siblings standing there, and he starts walking back to the house. Patty pauses, her eyes daring uncertainly between Leslie and her aunt, like maybe she should stay, but Leslie shakes her head slightly. She lets out a quiet breath as her partner ultimately follows Mike’s lead.

They stand there, facing off across the asphalt, the siblings on the right, their aunt on the left, as if they are in some Western movie. Any time now, Leslie expects to see a dust ball come trundling along between them. Marcie clears her throat and begins, which is only fair as this was primarily her idea, after all.

“Aunt Bev, we want to thank you for everything you’ve done for our mother,” she says. “Not just tonight and with the move, but for the past few years, since things started to go…downhill. We truly appreciate it.”

Immediately, their aunt’s haunches are up—Leslie senses it in the growing dark as if she is one of those robot transformers constantly building up on themselves in movie trailers on tv. “She’s my sister,” Beverly snaps. “Of course I’m going to be there for her.”

“Okay,” Marcie answers in measured tones as if walking a tight rope. “We know and we truly appreciate it.”

“So there’s no hard feelings,” Larry cuts in, as sensitive as ever. Leslie cringes at his brisk tone. “No one’s trying to keep anyone out of the loop. Good.”

“What loop?” Beverly snaps again. “I know my own sister. I know what’s going on. You think I’d just abandon her at a time like this?”

“No, that’s not what we’re saying…” Marcie starts, but Leslie cuts in, exasperated. Obviously, this conversation is not going anywhere. Maybe Larry was right after all.

“So everything’s cool?” she says nonchalantly. “Well come on, they’re waiting for us. Let’s go back in.”

“Fine by me,” Bev mutters, jerkily breaking up their makeshift circle by walking between Marcie and Larry. “Don’t know why you kept me out here to begin with.”

Marcie waits until their aunt is out of range before giving her siblings the same pointed look as before. “Well that was productive,” she says sarcastically.

“It’s obvious she wasn’t going to admit anything,” Leslie defended themselves as they walked towards the garage. “Maybe it doesn’t bother her. That’d be a first,” she mutters under her breath.

Marcie continues to glare at her sister. “Of course she cares,” she snaps. “Frannie’s barely been talking to her and you and Larry have taken over everything…” her voice falters. Without looking at either of them, she clears her throat again and opens the screen door to the kitchen.

Leslie thinks about this, about her Aunt Beverly whose own children, Bart and Andrea, will not talk to her, not since the divorce, now 30 years ago. Who would take care of Bev when she got senile and fell? Of course, the answer is pretty obvious, out of familial duty, but they cannot just bring it up with her, not without getting the same reaction that they had received just now, the indignant “I don’t need your help!” defensiveness. She, Larry and Marcie would just have to prove themselves through their actions. Through Frannie.