I was twenty-seven when I got my first house. My wife Julie and I had been working on finding a place we could afford for almost two years. Finally, however, it came to fruition. There were, of course, all the visits from relatives on both sides. Something about having a new place that makes people think you need houseguests in order to complete the experience.
The first eight or ten visitors didnt bother me. After that, it got a little old. By the time my wifes Aunt Carla decided to pay us a visit, Id had enough. It wasnt that I didnt like Carla, I did. She was kind of kooky. She was Julies favorite relative and one she hadnt seen since our wedding.
Now when I say kooky, let me explain. Carla was a high school art teacher. She said that she liked teaching, but also liked having an art related job that allowed her to focus on her own work. Carla had been active as a painter, sculptor, photographer and tapestry maker. I know that shed sold several pieces over the years, but she seemed to prefer doing what she liked and not needing to support her art by selling it. I admired that.
Carla was certainly intelligent, well-read and widely traveled. The kooky part came from her tastes in films, music and the like. She was kind of the black sheep of the family. As I said, however, she was Julies favorite, and I knew I had to be understanding about it. At least it wouldnt be one of her stuffy relatives.
At the airport, Julie stood excitedly at the security checkpoint, gazing down the walkway in search of her aunt. Id kind of forgotten what she looked like since having seen her last, but I knew Julie wouldnt miss her. Finally, Julie called out:
"Aunt Carla! Aunt Carla!" As she waved, I looked past her and spotted a fairly tall, dark haired woman waving back. They met in a hug, all smiles. It was coming back to me now. Carla had a very Bohemian look to her. She made her own jewelry, made a lot of her own clothes and wore no makeup. Her hair was fairly long a... Læs hele novellen
