Vivian's high school graduation, part one

Leta was actually nervous. Her hands were trembling so much that she had great difficulty with the pinning her hat.

From the reflection in the mirror, she could see the adoring eyes of her 13-year-old niece June, daughter to her brother Aaron and his wife Florence, watching her intently. The girl was always fascinated by Leta’s preparations, whether for church, a special event or an evening out. This prompted an idea to mask her insecurity.

“What do you think, June?” Leta asked. “Should I put the hat this way…or this way?”

June rose from her seat on the bed to come closer, applying her diligent, yet inexperienced mind to the task at hand. As Leta was an experienced hat designer, June was guided by the information she learned from her aunt augmented by her own imagination. Leta almost immediately regretted asking the question. After all, her purpose was to mask her insecurity, but the girl’s close proximity only increased it. Leta could hear her own heart beating.

“Well…?” June started, wrinkling her face in deep thought.

Leta handed the girl the hatpin and sat on the bench of the vanity.

June fussed only a little, without, much to Leta’s relief, mussing her hair, and placed the hat stylishly on Leta’s head.

“How is that?” June inquired.

Leta smiled. “Perfect. Now slide the hatpin in.”

June carefully tackled the task, and a moment later, Leta looked ready to depart.

“You look beautiful, Aunt Leta,” June gushed, as Leta stood and straightened her dress.

“Thank you, June,” Leta said with a smile.

Then she reached into a vanity drawer for a handkerchief to dab her forehead and cheeks.

“It’s warm in here, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” June answered, shrugging her shoulders. The child seemed impervious to higher temperatures.

Now that Leta was fully dressed and ready to leave June had lost all interest.

“We better get ourselves downstairs,” Leta said. “Your father will be waiting.”

Taking one last look in the mirror, Leta followed the girl out of the room and down the stairs into the living room.

Aaron was sitting on the sofa with the newspaper, a bottle of beer on the end table beside him.

“Papa!” June called as they entered, “Aunt Leta is ready.”

“About time,” he grunted, folding the paper. “If we wait much longer, we won’t get a good seat. Flo!” he called to his wife, who was in the kitchen. “It’s time to leave!”

“Be right there,” his wife called back.

Leta’s perspiration, and, at least to her, trembling, had increased as she left her bedroom.

“I’ll see what’s taking them so long,” she said and practically darted into the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ!” her brother swore, “Now I’m missing three!”

In the kitchen, Leta’s older niece Lucille was standing on a chair, while her mother was quickly repairing a loose hem.

“I’m sorry,” Florence said, as she sewed. “We didn’t see this until now.”

Leta barely heard her; her own mind was occupied with one thought. She went right to the icebox and retrieved a bottle of beer.

“Leta?” Florence questioned.

But Leta followed through with her objective, popping off the cap and chugging the beer. It was cold and soothing, refreshing and shocking to her system.

When she finished, she sighed with great satisfaction. Florence and Lucille were staring at her with astonishment.

She shrugged her shoulders slightly.

“What?” she demanded. “I was thirsty.”

“Oh, Leta,” her sister-in-law muttered and returned to the hemming. Lucille, noting that her mother was no longer paying attention to Leta’s behavior, grinned at her aunt.

Leta then rinsed the bottle in the sink, opened a cupboard door, slid out the bin that concealed a wooden box, and put the empty beer bottle away.

“Ready!” Florence said loud enough for everyone to hear, and then Aaron hustled everyone to the automobile.

Leta was feeling far more relaxed and cooler.

Ten minutes later they were at Morrison R. Waite High School near the Maumee River for Leta’s daughter Vivian’s high school graduation.

To be continued.