4- This One is For Breezy

The shrieking guffaw that was uniquely Annie’s floated above the hedge Aunt Alice had disappeared behind and instantly dried Molly’s eyes before the traitorous moisture could combine against her into tears. Pulling herself into a formidable mountain pose, Molly’s mind reverted to it’s usual defenses—accessing and then immersing itself in her most recent research project. She’d retreated into many subjects over the years, most recently Asian political geography, Degas, a study of assembly lines, European 16th Century history, Early Judaism, deciduous ornamental shrubs of zone 4, and currently Pranayama, one of the five principles of yoga relating to breath control. Her first thought was to try a Bhramari breath, even though she wasn’t sitting, and began to “snore” in through her nose and exhale making a buzzing sound.

“Annie still hates all things winged but you won’t intimidate Aunt Alice off pretending to be a bee.” Molly whipped her head around searching for those laughing green eyes of her dear brother.

“Mike!” She said, leaving her suitcase and her mountain pose and stepping toward him before she could fully seem him. “Is everyone here hiding in the bushes? Since when did this house get so shadowy and overgrown? And I wasn’t buzzing, well, I was, but I was also extending and disciplining my life force. If I’m going to live here I need an open heart center.”

“As usual, I only have a vague idea of what you are talking about but I’m happy if your happy. Or my life force is open if your life force is open. Buzz on!” He said as he pulled her into a thick hug.

“It’s an open heart and an extended life force but whatever. It’s so good to see you! Even here. Seeing you here is a bit--”

“Weird.” He pulled back to look at her face.

“I was thinking something more-“

“Depressing?” for a second he looked too concerned for comfort until his nostrils started twitching with the effort of holding back a smile.

“I was going to say specific. But let’s just go with weird. It’s sufficiently vague and an acceptably current idiomatically.” She never had to sensor her language around Mike. She could always be 100% Molly and never alter her vocabulary at the last second to avoid sounding, well, let’s go with weird.

“Hate to break it to you sister, but “weird” is dated. Which makes you old.”

“It was your word! You’re the old one.”

“I’m not old, I have kids. That makes me a young family man!”

“Are you calling me a spinster? I can’t be a spinster at 28. And where is your family, man?”

“Behind all those shadows and overgrowth. Wait until you see Luke, talk about overgrowth. The kid is huge! He’s nearly bigger than Liza.”

“Well, but she’s so petite.” Molly said as they walked arm in arm to the backyard. At last Molly could retreat into the role of admiring Aunt, even if the bulk of that admiration had been from afar. It was a comfortable and comforting role. Molly would be (almost) fine if she never had kids of her own as long as she had plenty of nieces and nephews. She took her job of outrageously spoiling them very seriously. It was her responsibility to compensate them for being short a couple of grandparents, that and to hype them up on sugar then pass them back to the parents for the crash. All the fun, none of the discipline or messy stuff.