Free Beauty and the Mustache by Penny Reid Page B

eyes. She
lifted her hand and gave me a little wave.
    “ Hi, Baby,” she said with
a smile. “Did we wake you up?”
    “ No. Something else did…I
think.” My voice was raspy from sleep.
    Just then, the sound of a
sob sprang into the room, and I remembered that men were crying
someplace in the house. This, of course, reminded me that Sandra
had arrived.
    Momma laughed lightly, her
grin growing as she looked at me. “I like your friends. Sandra is a
hoot.”
    I returned her smile and reached for her
hand. “How long have you been up?”
    “ Oh…a few hours I guess.
We’re good in here if you want to go say hi and visit. Your doctor
friend, Elizabeth, made everyone ravioli. It was real good. She
said her husband owns an Italian restaurant.”
    “ Her mother-in-law owns
the restaurant.” I frowned because my mother knew all about
Elizabeth. I’d told her all about how Elizabeth had grown up with
Nico Moretti—now a famous comedian—and how they’d been married last
year in Las Vegas.
    “ No matter who owns it,
she knows how to make really fine Italian food.”
    “ It was really good.” This
came from the nurse in the corner.
    My attention shifted to
him and I gave him a little wave. “Hi, you must be Joe. I’m
Ashley.”
    He nodded, smiled. “Hey,
Ashley. You’re the nurse, right?”
    “ Yep. That’s
me.”
    “ Let me know if you have
any questions. I just checked your momma; she’s doing real good.”
Joe’s brown eyes shifted from mine to where my mother was sitting
up. He gave her a warm smile.
    “ Thank
you, I will.” I said, considering this Joe who was a nurse with a tattoo of a
dragon.
    “ You should go thank her
for making dinner for your family,” Momma said. “I know she wants
to see you.”
    I nodded, distracted by
Drew and the suspicion that my mother was losing her memory. Or
rather, I suspected the pain medication was making her
recollections fuzzy. I shifted to stand and noticed that a blanket
had been placed over me.
    I frowned at the blanket then at Drew.
    It seemed everything was
earning my frown of confusion.
    “ Go on, get.” Momma
prompted, squeezing my hand then letting it go.
    Drew didn’t move as I stood
to depart, so I was forced to walk past him in the tight space made
by our chairs, my bottom brushing his shoulder. Nor did he meet my
eyes. Instead, he opened the book, which I recognized as The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, and started again
where he’d left off—with talk of taming and need.
    I shook off the lingering
Drew-disquiet, and my stomach rumbled as I walked. It was a
reminder that food was needed in order to function, and thankfully,
the smell of good food—garlic and fried onions—was wafting toward
me. I followed the smell of Italian food and the sound of crying
through the kitchen and into the dining room.
    The scene that greeted me
was not unlike something from a Dr. Phil episode.
    Sandra had Cletus and the
twins arranged in the family room—which was just off the dining
room—and was holding some kind of impromptu counseling session. Her
face was clear of expression, neither cool nor warm but rather
accepting, open, and interested.
    The loud sobbing, I
realized almost immediately, was coming from Cleatus. He was
sitting in the chair closest to Sandra, and his face was buried in
his hands. She was rubbing his back, but her attention was affixed
to Beau, who also looked like he’d been crying at one point, but
now he seemed to have his expressions of sorrow under
control.
    I didn’t want to interrupt
them. Sandra was an excellent psychiatrist, though she usually
treated only pediatric patients. It was obvious that my brothers
were receiving something from her that they needed, some kind of
catharsis. This was her modus operandi.
    A throat cleared behind me
and caused me to jump. I turned and found Elizabeth standing at my
shoulder, an affectionate and sympathetic smile on her
face.
    “ Hey, girl,” she
said.
    “ Hey,” I