My mother straightened up from her hunched position. “I was wrong to deny them you, Evie.” She hunched back down, as if too tired to sit up straight, which was so unlike my mother.

I didn’t argue with her. My whole chest felt tight. I loved my mother and my aunts. I still felt betrayed. They had denied me the truth of my own life. I would rather hear the truth than live in a fuzzy haze of a reality that is not real. Plus, there were extenuating circumstances: My premonitions, which Betsy could have helped me with. My parents and aunts knew I struggled with depression, that I mysteriously felt lost and alone throughout my life, and they probably guessed why that was, but did nothing. Plus, Betsy and Johnny had been so young when they’d had me, then lost me. Was there no sympathy for them?

This whole thing had shaken my world like I was in the center of a snow globe. It had turned my relationships with my parents, though my father was long gone, and my aunts upside down.

“This is a hard situation,” I said.

My mother and aunts were miserable. They seemed to have shrunk and aged since I’d found out about Johnny and Betsy. They were worn out, guilt-ridden. I knew all about guilt and I didn’t want them to live with it.

“It’s hard for them, for me, for you all.” I took a deep breath. They loved me, I loved them. I knew that my aunts saw Jules and me as their own daughters. Forgiveness had to come into play here. “There’s been enough pain. You know what would make this situation better?”

They all three sat up. “What, honey, tell me,” my mother said. “I’ll do anything.”

“Me too,” Aunt Camellia said, her face blotchy from tears. “I have been reaching out to the universe to bring peace to this situation, love. I, too, worry they will hate us. More than that, I worry every day that you hate me.”

“Tell me what to do,” growled Aunt Iris, although she was choking back emotion, too. “Be practical and spit it out.”

“Make them hats.”

That was an extremely popular suggestion.

Their faces brightened. Hope came from sadness, light came from darkness, joy came from guilt and regret. “We’ll do it!” they said together.

“I love you all,” I whispered. “I truly do.”

“We love you, too,” they said, together again, as if on cue.

We are an emotional bunch and had a long hug in the gazebo, the wisteria floating around us.

Sundance squished his way in and barked. He likes group hugs.

* * *

“Evie,” Mr. Jamon croaked over the phone, then coughed. “Did you get the new romance I ordered?”

“Yes, it’s here.” I had it right under the cash register at the bookstore.

“I’ll come get it.”

“Hang on. You sound terrible. Are you sick?”