Chapter 2
I called my dad the day before I moved in, while he was at work and told him what I'd done. He was sort of relieved and pissed at the same time. "Boy, don't ever let your mother find out. You gotta make Tina swear to keep the secret. Or your ass is so much grass."
"We've already come to that agreement. She doesn't want to cause any more problems with Mom. Dad, can you tell me what the hell there is between them?"
I heard Dad clear his throat. "I'm sorry Gabe, I'm not certain I know the whole story myself. It's something about a boy in high school. That's all I got."
***
I was walking up the front walk of Tina's modest home just as she was leaving for work on Friday. I'd had overnight duty the day before and had taken a day of leave to give myself a three-day weekend before my next duty day on Monday. I had my seabag over my shoulder.
"Oh, there you are. Good timing, I'm just heading to work." She fumbled in her purse and pulled out a key. "My room is on the right past the garage door and the guest room is off to the left, past the kitchen." She motioned with her head as she talked. "The other bedroom is my knock-around room but you're welcome to use it as well."
I nodded. She looked me in the eye. "How old are you now, Gabe?" she said seriously.
"I ... I'll be twenty-three next month, Aunt Tina."
She smiled but it had a hard edge to it. "Twenty-three, that's a good age." She shouldered her bag and fished her keys out. "You're an adult, so I don't need to tell you what a breach of my trust it would be if you were to be snooping around in my bedroom, do I?"
The thought had never occurred to me. "Of course not," I said confidently.
Her smile softened and she reached up and caressed my cheek. "That's good. Go get settled in. Will I see you tonight?" She seemed to notice her hand on my face and her expression fell and she pulled her hand back hurriedly.
I shrugged. "I have no plans."
She turned for the driveway. "Okay, maybe we'll get some DoorDash and get to know each other. I'm afraid I don't keep much food in the house. I don't really cook much. See ya!"
I smiled and waved. She was wearing a very business-like skirt and blouse with sensible heels. She made it look good. She turned back to me at the edge of the walk. "One last thing Gabe. We don't really know each other as nephew and aunt. I didn't get to watch you grow up and I wasn't there to be an aunt to you, so the title seems kind of disingenuous. So how about you just call me, Tina?
***
I moved my meager belongings into Tina's guest room in about twenty minutes. My clothes and uniforms, laptop, shoe-polish kit, and a clothes iron. The room was furnished with a full-sized bed, side table, a small desk and chair, and an old sitting chair in the corner. The closet had one of those organizers that basically takes the place of a dresser while still providing room for hanging clothes.
The house itself was a 1990s vintage single-story ranch, which she had gotten in her first divorce in lieu of alimony. Three bedrooms, two baths. I set my toiletry bag on the sink and dropped my bathing needs in the shower caddy that hung from the shower head.
I peeked into her knock-around room and found it to be a reading and hobby room. It featured a nice, overstuffed reclining chair with a hanging light and a well-appointed bookcase that took up most of one wall.
On the other side was a set of shelves that held various threads, yarns, and other tools needed for needlepoint. I was a little surprised, but I really shouldn't have been as my mother does needlepoint as well, taught by my grandmother. Several large, completed pieces covered that wall, but they were vastly more intricate than the stuff my mother does. It was very impressive.
I moved to the kitchen and found myself very disappointed. She had the absolute bare minimum for a person to live by themselves. A four-piece dish set, the same amount of cutlery, and the smallest set of pots and pans known to man. The frying pan was the most used piece in the kitchen. Appliances were limited to a blender, a well-used coffee maker, and a microwave. There was next to nothing in the refrigerator or pantry. There were a few frozen meals in the freezer.
I looked around and spoke out loud to myself. "Nope. This will not do at all."
***
I heard Tina's key in the lock around six. I heard her heels on the tile at the door and her keys jingle as she set them on the end table next to the door. Then it got quiet.
She turned the corner and peered into the kitchen where I was working. She looked at the food I was preparing on the counter and the pots going on the stove, with a look of total amazement. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled the smells of the roasting pork loin. I reached over and turned down the temperature in the oven. She looked at me with her eyes wide. "What in the heck is going on in here?" she asked excitedly.
I cleared my throat and wiped my hands on the dish towel. "Dinner." I grinned. "I'm sorry, but I really don't do take-out."
"But how ..." she started but faltered.
Chuckling, I replied. "I didn't tell you what my job is in the Coast Guard?"
She shook her head briskly. "I figured it was something ... technical."
I stepped over to stir my sauce on the stove. "I'm a cook," I said with a grin.
***