Chapter 13: A Room of Our Own
I feel like a celebrity when I climb out of the car and find myself surrounded. My Aunt Bobbie gets to me first—a short, overweight woman in her late 60’s, she has mousy, flyaway hair and a smattering of freckles across her perpetually tanned face, a symptom of her sun-worshipping ways. She lives in Florida with husband number five, a Greek businessman named Sander something-or-other that I can’t pronounce. I don’t think she can, either, since the last I heard, she went back to using her maiden name. When she hugs me, she only comes to my shoulder, and she squeezes me so tight that I’m sure my ribs will crack. “Michael!” she cries. Before I can reply, she releases me and moves down a step, pushing me the other way as she reaches for Caitlin.
I find myself in
