s t r e a m {SAPNAP}

- 20 -

BEE POV

***

AUGUST 1OTH

My aunt was just as bitchy as I remembered, complaining about little things that didn't matter. She was, of course, excited to see me, but it didn't stop her from commenting on the way my hair looked, the make up I put on, and the way I dressed.

I had to remind myself that she was family, whether I hated her or not.

"So tell me, Elisa," she spoke loudly, ushering me into her living room. I hated the name she gave me. My mom called me Libbee—everyone called me Bee. "What are you doing these days? We haven't talked in ages!"

"Oh—well, you can just call me Bee. And...I'm in college right now. I study Computer Science!" I said, quite proud of myself. Lydia was not as happy for me as I thought she'd be.

"A girl in computer science, eh? You'd think your mother would've instilled some house-wife values into you." She laughed awkwardly and went to make some tea. She continued our conversation from the kitchen.

"But never mind that. Are you seeing anyone?"

"No," I remembered how utterly sexist she was. "No, I'm not. I'm focusing on school and work."

In the back of my mind I thought about Nick. He was quickly replaced by my aunt's loud voice again.

"You should really try to hop on the bandwagon of marriage. You know, your mother was already married at your age."

Aunt Lydia really did mean well. She was my mom's step-sister, which I guess technically made her my step-aunt. My whole family tree was...complicated.

I think my grandparents got divorced when my mom was ten or nine, and then my granddad got remarried to Lydia's mom, bringing in my step-grandma and my step-aunt. I was pretty sure that Lydia was a good ten years older than my mom. She did get married at one point, but I vaguely remember my mom telling me she was infertile or something.

Lydia came back with our tea and she settled herself right into the couch, next to me. When she wasn't nitpicking every little thing about me, she was a joy to be around. As a kid, I liked seeing her because she would always sneak me candy or take me out to the shops for new books.

"Well," she finally said. "I'm glad you're pursuing your dreams. What do you plan to do with that degree? And ooh—didn't you say you go to Austin? That's a good school right there."

"Yeah, I honestly don't know how I got in. The letter came in the mail and...I packed my things and went. But I don't know what I'll do with it. I want to maybe look into web design or coding."

"Mm. And how'd your father take it? I know he wasn't one for letting you do whatever you wanted."

I frowned.

"He was actually...he had already died by that point. He wasn't enthralled by my choice to start applying to colleges in the first place, so I had no idea how he would've reacted when I got in. Especially for computer science."

We both laughed, the tension easing as we spoke.

"I'm sorry we haven't talked recently, Bee," she said, her face scrunching at the sound of my nickname. "You're young, I'm well into my fifties...and then when I heard your mother had passed...I didn't want to acknowledge it. I felt terrible, see, I'd never been a good sister to her.

"But you were like a daughter to me, too. I felt terrible. I know we talked over the phone, but...I don't know." Lydia sighed. "I almost wish I hadn't moved out of Texas, but I hated the heat. I like the North so much better. And I mean, look at the sights! It's beautiful up here! In Texas it's nothing but desert."

It was true. North Dakota was beautiful. I had driven through the mountains to get up to her small neighborhood, and I was amazed by how pretty everything was.

"She talked about you a lot," I finally said. "My mom.  There was such a big age gap that she knew you'd never really get along as sisters. But she still loved you."

That seemed to cheer Lydia up. I knew she felt bad for not talking to my mom before she died, and she felt even worse for not talking to my either. I'd lost both my parents about a year apart from each other.

But Lydia promised to make up years of lost relationships to me. I only had about a week there, so I had no idea what she was planning.

But it was nice.

She made a home-cooked meal for lunch, and took me out for dinner at some of the best restaurants I'd ever been to. We laughed, we talked, we gossiped, we people watched. It was the sort of thing that you'd expect to do with your best friends, or with your mom if you had a good relationship with her.

Lydia started telling me stories about halfway through our dinner that night. About her childhood and about my mom. These were things even I hadn't heard before. I wished my mom would've talked to me more.

"And when you were kid, you were so tiny! Everyone thought that you were sick, so your parents coddled you and would barely let anyone touch you. So when I finally got to hold you, your mother was watching me like a hawk because I was notorious for being clumsy. You were probably, say, eight or nine months old? I wasn't sure." Lydia sipped her wine. "But everyone was shocked because the very first words out of your mouth was Lydia. I cried, you know."

I gasped.

"Seriously? You were my first word? God, why did nobody tell me these things?" I groaned. In a way, I resented my mother for being so quiet and reserved. I wished she was someone else, then cursed myself for speaking badly of my dead mother.

My phone wouldn't stop buzzing at the table, so I turned it over and checked to see who was calling me. It was Nick, of course. I'd told him when I made it to her house, so clearly that wasn't why he was calling.

"Your boyfriend?" Lydia asked slyly.

"No, I already said I wasn't seeing anyone." I murmured, declining the call.

"Well, I saw the heart by his name. Do you like him?"

"Lydia, please, he's just a friend." I ended the conversation, but she wouldn't stop glancing to the phone and back to me.

"Ok," she finally sighed. "If you say so. But just answer me this, do you like him?"

I thought for a moment.

"No," I said finally. "He's just my friend."