CHAPTER 1
I didn’t mean to lose it. Really, I didn’t. It must
have been the two squabbling teenagers. Or the
two annoying adults. Or the pressure of setting up
a new business and knowing that if I couldn’t
make a go of it, it would be just one more in a long
list of failures.
We won’t even mention the divorce.
All I wanted was a minute to myself. Just one
simple, single minute to sit there in the new office
and take a deep breath and look around and say to
myself, This is mine. And it’s going to work.
But I hadn’t been there in the chair behind my
new desk more than ten seconds when the door
burst open and Augusta and Amelia came in snapping
at each other over something. They looked at
me and said in unison, in the sort of plaintive wail
that only teenagers can manage, “Aunt Deliiiiilah!”
I held up one finger and closed my eyes. If they
can do that to me, I can do that to them. They
sighed. Together, of course.
Then I heard heavier footsteps, and Luke Edwards,
my assistant—and son-in-law—said, “Miz
Delilah, the phone’s not workin’. Are you sure
you called ’em and told ’em we’d be movin’ in
today?”
“Of course she called them,” my daughter Melissa
said from behind him. “She wouldn’t have forgotten
something that important.”
I had hired Melissa, too, as secretary/receptionist.
It was sort of a package deal. She and Luke hadn’t
been married for very long, and they thought it
would be just darlin’ if they could work in the same
place and spend all their time together, since they
loved each other so much.
I didn’t call them poor deluded fools. At least
not to their faces. You can’t do that to kinfolks.
“Aunt Delilah, she’s being totally unreasonable,”
Amelia said.
“Well, she’s stuck in the nineteenth century,”
Augusta said. “There’s nothing wrong with body
piercing. It’s an ancient custom.”
“We can’t run the office without the phones,”
Luke said.
“Will you leave the poor woman alone? She
knows that,” Melissa said as she crowded into the
room along with Luke, Augusta, and Amelia.
“She’s going to mutilate herself and embarrass
me—”
“Embarrass you? It’s my body—”
“I can call the phone company on my cell—”
“I’ll call them. It’s my job—”
“Aunt Delilah—”
“Miz D—”
“Aunt Delilah—”
I opened my eyes. I stood up and put my hands
on the desk and said, “Will y’all just hush up for a
minute?”
Now, I admit I raised my voice a little. But not
enough so that all four of them should have stared
at me like I just choked a kitten or something. Augusta
and Amelia got that little bottom-lip quiver—
you know, like they were about to cry because I’d
yelled at them—and to tell the truth, so did Luke,
whose big ol’ country boy, football player looks hid
a soul that was a tad on the sensitive side. Melissa
had known me the longest, so she recovered first
and said, “I think we should all go on and leave
her alone for a minute. She’s got a lot on her plate
these days and we don’t need to be bothering her
with our petty problems.”
“There’s nothing petty about tryin’ to run a
tour business with no phones,” Luke grumbled as
she shooed him out of the office.
“You, too, girls,” Melissa said to her cousins,
who, at sixteen, were six years younger than she.
I could tell Augusta and Amelia wanted to argue
with her, but they left, too, and Melissa eased the
door shut on her way out. I was alone again.
Problem was, I didn’t want to be alone anymore.
The mood was gone. Like I said, all I’d wanted was
a minute. I hadn’t gotten it, and now it was time to
move on.
But after Melissa had stepped in like that to
help me, I couldn’t very well act like I didn’t want
to sit there in the office by myself. I took a deep
breath and turned around to look out the window.
I had a good view of the office complex parking
lot and the big-box discount store across the street
and the futuristic skyline of downtown Atlanta rising
a couple of miles beyond it. I had worked downtown for
several years, in one of the city’s biggest
travel agencies, and I was glad I didn’t have to go
down there every day anymore. That was one big reason
for starting my own business. I wanted to be able
to slow down a little, to take stock of my life, to devote
more time to the things that were really important.
Divorce will do that to you, I guess. Make you
take a hard look at your life and try to figure out
what’s working and what isn’t, before anything
else breaks down beyond repair.
You figure out a way to go on, because you can’t
just stop.
I stood up, went to the door, and opened it.
Luke and Melissa had gone back to their desks in
the outer office. Augusta and Amelia were sitting
on the sofa, one at each end with as much room
between them as they could get.
“Luke, I did forget to call the phone company
and make sure they turned the phones on today.
I’m sorry. Would you take care of that for me?”
He grinned. “Sure, Miz D.”
“Augusta.”
She looked at me. I crooked a finger.
“You’re going to yell at me? It’s not fair. You’re not
my mother.”
“No, but your mama’s my little sister, and I
promised her I’d look after you girls this summer.
I just want to find out what all this fuss is about.”
“And you’re going to listen to her side of it
first?” Amelia said. “It’s not fair!”
I could have told her a few things about how fair
life is, but I knew she wouldn’t want to hear it. So I
just said, in as calm and rational a tone as I could
manage, “I’ll get to you in a minute.”
She leaned back against the sofa cushion, crossed
her arms, and sulked.
When Augusta and I were back in the office with
the door closed, she said, “Aunt Delilah, you’ve got
to talk some sense into her—”
“What’s this about body piercing?” I couldn’t
help but frown as I said the words.
Her response was quick. “It’s very safe. It’s done
by professionals, you know. And I just want to get a
belly button ring and maybe a little stud for my
eyebrow. It’s really no different than having pierced
ears. You have pierced ears.”
“Yeah, but I don’t have a hole in my belly button.”
I leaned back in my chair. “What do you think
your mama would say if I was to call her and ask her
if it was all right for you to get these . . . piercings?”
Augusta looked down at the floor and didn’t say
anything.
“That’s what I thought.”
“It’s still not any of Amelia’s business,” she muttered.
“She’s such a little suck-up. And a tattletale.”
Inside every sixteen-year-old lurks a twelve-year-old,
I guess. Especially when it comes to sisters.
Twin sisters, at that.
“Can I at least call myself Gus?”
That took me by surprise. “Augusta is a beautiful
name.”
“An old-fashioned name.”
“Honey, you’re talkin’ to somebody named
Delilah here, you know.”
“I still want to be called Gus.”
I looked at her through narrowed eyes, or maybe
I just squinted at her. “Now there’s an elegant name.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Gus.”
“Not many sixteen-year-old girls named that,
though.”
“I don’t mind being different. I want to be different,
and since you won’t let me get my belly button
pierced...”
I’d lost track of all the pierced, Gothed-up sixteen-year-
old girls I’d seen, not that I’d been counting
to start with. Augusta’s concept of “different” wasn’t
quite the same as mine.
“You say that now. How are you going to feel
about it when school starts again?”
“We’ll be back home then, so it won’t be any of
your business, will it? Anyway, it’s got to be better
than Augusta.”
“Your sister’s never minded being called Amelia.
You think that’s a more modern name?”
I could see her digging in her heels. “All I’m saying
is that it ought to be my decision. It’s not any
of her business what I want to be called.”
She had a point there. And calling herself something
else wasn’t nearly as permanent as getting
holes stuck in her.
“Go back out and send your sister in.”
“You’re not going to make me go by Augusta,
are you?”
“Just send your sister in.”
I sat down behind the desk and waited. A few
seconds later Amelia came in and closed the door
behind her a little harder than necessary.
“Augusta is absolutely immmmpossible. Mama
would have a fit if she got her navel and her eyebrows
pierced.”
“She’s not going to. But she’s going to change
her name to Gus for the summer.”
Amelia stared at me in horror for a second before
she said, “Gus? That’s horrible!”
“Your sister’s got a right to call herself whatever
she wants to.”
“But Gus Harris sounds like a boy! An ugly boy,
at that.”
“Maybe she could call herself Gussie.”
Amelia gave me the look. You know, the one that
teenagers give adults when they want to say, Could
you be any more ridiculous?
“You know, she’s probably going to change her
mind about this whole thing before school starts
again. That’s still more than two months off.”
“But what if she doesn’t? I’ll be Gus Harris’s sister!
It’s already hard enough being a twin.”
“You liked having a twin sister when you were
four. You even liked it when you were eight.”
“I’m sixteen now.” She managed to sound terribly
world weary as she said it.
“I know, I know, everything’s different now. All
I’m sayin’ is that if you just let things go for a
while, a lot of problems will sort themselves out so
they aren’t problems anymore.”
“Oh? Like the problems you and Uncle Dan
had?”
I felt my jaw getting tight. I didn’t know if I was
more hurt or mad.
She saw that and said quickly, “I’m sorry, Aunt
Delilah. I didn’t mean that, you know I didn’t
mean that.”
I held up a hand to stop her. “No, you’re right,”
I said. “Sometimes you can’t just let things go and
hope they’ll get better. The trick is knowing when
those times are and which battles are worth fighting.” I
turned my chair so that I was facing the
computer and turned it on. “Go on back outside,
and we’ll talk about this some more at home. For
now, you and your sister just try to get along, all
right?”
“Yeah.” She caught her lower lip between her
teeth for a second. “Yeah, sure.”
I kept my eyes on the monitor and watched the
screens change as the computer booted up. I didn’t
let myself sigh until Amelia was gone. I didn’t let
myself cry at all. I’d been there. Done that. A lot.
A knock sounded on the door and Luke opened
it without waiting for an answer. “Talked to the
phone company,” he said. “Phones’ll be on by the
end of the day.”
“Thanks, Luke. Sorry about the mix-up. My bad,
as the kids say. If they still say that. I haven’t
checked lately.”
“That’s all right. You’ve got a lot to keep up with
these days, Miz D. It’s not easy opening your own
business, you know. Not to mention taking care of
kids, even if they’re not yours. I hope by the time
Melissa and I have kids, I’m a lot smarter and
more grown up than I am now.”
I smiled and said, “That’s a good way to look at
it.”
“ ’Cause sometimes I think I’m dumb as dirt.”
“No, you’re a sweet young man, and when the
time comes, you’ll do just fine.” I sat up straighter,
trying to be more brisk and businesslike. “Now,
let’s talk about this Gone With the Wind tour.”
So that was how things started out on the first-ever
day for Delilah Dickinson Literary Tours. A little
ragged, maybe, but I had high hopes. We’d get over
all these rough patches. Things were going to get
better as they went along. I was sure of it.
Of course, folks hadn’t started getting killed
yet. ...