Aunt Kristal wasn’t like Aunt Kitty.

Ella’s earliest memory of Kitty was of sitting in her lap while her aunt opened an orange for her. When she thought of Aunt Kitty, she thought of the scent of citrus and lavender, of the little crinkles around her eyes when she smiled, the softness of her hands.

Aunt Kristal was the Mayor. She always seen from a distance, usually talking to somebody important. She had a long, rather handsome face with a strong jaw, and the few times Ella had been physically close to her, she’d smelled like Rosemary astringent. Her smiles never seemed to touch her eyes.

Ella watched, drinking her tea, as Papa quietly talked to his aunt. Kitty joined them, and the two sisters bent to exchange quick kisses on the cheeks. For a moment the three of them stood talking, their voices pitched low. Every now and then, one of them would nod.

Someone touched her arm. “Ella,” Lucas said.

He drew her away, so they were standing out of earshot.

“How long have you been drinking?” Lucas asked her.

“What?”

“How long have you been sneaking liquor into your tea? How much have you had?”

The question sounded so crazy Ella laughed. “Only a little! Don’t be ridiculous! Look, I hardly drank any and I’m pouring out the rest.” She tilted her cup, and tried to ignore the fact that only a few drops dribbled out.

“This isn’t funny, Ella. Answer my question.”

“Are you stewed?”

EXCUSE ME?

The injustice of it made her face grow hot. “No! No I am not drunk! How can you ask that?”

“You can’t get into this habit, Sis.”He took the empty teacup away from her.

“It’s not a habit!” she said, but he was walking away from her.

They were gathered around the bench, Aunt Kristal standing before Tante, talking quietly.

Ella moved in a little closer so she could hear.

What surprised her was that Tante was not looking at Aunt Kristal. Never before had she seen Tante coldly and pointedly looking to the side of someone who was talking to her. Aunt Kristal didn’t seem at all put out or shocked. She kept talking as if she were holding a perfectly normal conversation. “…I was a little worried, to tell the truth, but now that I see Marion here, I know you’ll be all right. There’s nothing like having at least one person from your family beside you at a time like this, is there? It can make you feel so much less alone.”

“She’s surrounded by family,” Papa said.

Aunt Kristal ignored him.

She looked at Mrs. Duday and asked, “Does she have a place to stay tonight?”

Now Tante looked directly at her. “I am staying here, Kristal,” said Tante.

“But that’s ridiculous! By yourself in this wet, miserable little hovel? After losing your husband? Surely you’d like to be with your own family.”

“Like I said,” Pop’s voice had that edge in it that always made Mom nervous.

“Laurette is with family,” he said. “She won’t be alone. Mimi and I will stay the night.”

This was news to Ella. He and Mom had been talking in the kitchen earlier about how they were going to get Tante back to the house on Drum, where the spare room as already set up for her. (“Maybe if we just keep pouring anisette into her…” he’d said and Mom had exclaimed, “Oh, Artie, for God’s sake…”)

“It’s her house,” Papa added.

“Really?”

In the little pocket of silence that followed this, Marion rose to her feet.

“Excuse me,” she said, as she walked past Papa.

They heard the back door close as Marion went in.

“Kristal,” said Aunt Kitty. “Please. Now is not the time.”

“But you do know the time is coming, don’t you?” Kristal said to her sister.

“The time for what?” Pop’s voice was higher and louder.

Ella felt sick. She’d expected to hear Grandpa’s calm, deep voice breaking in, saying “Now Art…” and her eyes had gone to his empty chair and it hit her that Grandpa wasn’t there, and would never be there again, and she would never hear him again.

Never.

“Just tell us. Just get it over with. What are you doing here?” Pop said.

“Well, what are you doing here, Art?”

“I’m here because my father just died and this was his home!”

“This was my home, too,” said Kristal. She shrugged. “Looks like we’re here for the same reason.”

“The Hell we are! You just can’t resist can you? You just HAVE to come here and play your shitty games…”

“Artiste,” Laurette said quietly.

“Do not talk to your aunt like that again in this house. You know your father would never have stood for it. Another swear word and you will have to leave.”

There was the sound of the back door opening again, Marion’s high heels clicking on the patio as she returned. She settled herself next to Laurette and took her hand, looking steadily at Aunt Kristal.

“Called for reinforcements, did you, dear?” asked Aunt Kristal.

“Why would she need reinforcements?” asked a rather loud, deep voice.

It was Mrs. Liana Duday Tesange.

Pop was always summing up people who came into the Rose. Old Mrs. Duday, the painter, was “that salty old beauty.” Sergei Pascoe who sometimes helped with deliveries, was “like his dad, only smarter.” Martin Ambriz was “oily as shit in a goose,” and Kristal’s son, Cousin Ben Abbot, was “a nice guy, considering.”

As for Lee Tesange, when Pop got home on the night she and her husband brought in a party of twelve for her birthday celebration he had sighed and said, “That woman alone can suck every bit of oxygen out of the dining room. I mean, my God, have you ever heard her laugh?”

Mrs. Tesange didn’t look like she was going to laugh any time soon. She bent to hug Tante, and held her tightly for a moment, her cheek pressed against her aunt’s. “Oh Tante,” Ella heard her whisper. Ella watched as Mrs. Tesange straightened up and turned to face Kristal.

(“Artie…” Mom was trying to get Pop’s attention.)

“Can we expect more visitors from the Duday contingent tonight?” Kristal asked.

“I believe that depends on you,” said Mrs. Tesange.

(“When did we ever talk about staying here overnight?” Mom’s whisper was almost a horrified hiss. Pop shrugged.)

“Is that supposed to worry me? It doesn’t. You know Lee,” Aunt Kristal said. “True concern for someone includes being realistic. You, of all people, know that.”

(“Kitty,” Mom said quietly over her shoulder, “Your sister…” Aunt Kitty spread her hands helplessly.)

“And why would I, ‘of all people,’ know that more than anyone else here?”

“Because we’re alike, whether you want to admit it or not,” said Kristal.

“Don’t presume, Kristal,” she said.

Kristal looked at Tante. “They want you to leave, don’t they, Mrs. Macana?,” she said.

“They’ve been trying to get you off this property for months. Nobody here is any different from me, when you come right down to it. Just less honest with you. Or with themselves.”

For a moment, Tante looked at Kristal, as if she were thinking.

Tante shook her head. “No, Cherie,” Tante said, so gently she actually sounded sorry for Kristal. “I think you know the only person on this Island like you is you.”

Someone was walking in long, purposeful strides around the side of the house.

“Good evening, Madame Baranca…” Ella heard a man’s voice say.

“Hello, Leon,” said Kitty.

Leon Duday. Tante’s nephew. Marion Duday’s husband. The lawyer.

Once, Ella had heard some girls at school giggling about him. “A dangerous man!” they called him, and she could see why. It wasn’t just that he was good-looking, or that he always looked slightly angry, even when he was smiling. It was the quick, graceful way he moved, sliding past Mrs. Tesange and Aunt Kristal as effortlessly as a cat. He nodded briefly at his wife, bent to kiss his aunt, then, pointedly ignoring everyone else, crouched in front of Tante and began speaking to her quietly in a strange language.

They exchanged a few words. He nodded, reached out to pat Tante’s hand, then rose and turned to face Mrs. Tesange.

“Tante,” he said, “Is tired. She has not had a moment to herself since the ambulance arrived last night for Uncle Artiste.”

“That’s why I want her to…” began Mrs. Tesange, and he held up his hand. She fell silent, and he continued.

“Tante Laurette appreciates your concern, Lee, as do I. She appreciates all our concern,” he said, looking around at everyone. “Believe me, Marion and I would love it if she’d come to stay with us this evening, but the fact is, she doesn’t want to. She wants to sleep in her own bed, in her own house tonight”

His back was to Ella and she couldn’t see his expression, but as he said this Ella saw Aunt Kristal flinch back slightly, stepping away from both him and Mrs. Tesange.

“We need to let her breathe. She doesn’t want to hear raised voices or quarrels. She wants to have some time to herself, drink some tea and eat a meal and go to bed.”

“There will be a time for discussing practical matters. This isn’t it. Not just hours after we lost someone who mattered so much to us. We have plenty of time ahead to talk about it.

“And if anyone has any questions concerning property and the estate, you will not bother Tante Laurette with it.”

“You will come and talk to me.”