The door was red, red and wide. The house’s outsides were overgrown. Exhausted daffodils flopped across the winding walkway. A mammoth rose of Sharon fainted across the porch stairs. I could hear Uncle Axel’s revving his truck. Christie was fast asleep tucked under one arm and all we had was in a big blue IKEA bag under the arm. Sighing I rang the doorbell.

When life gives you lemons, you got lemons. I had a lot of lemons. Mom had fallen in love again skipping town to follow her heart who was skipping his bond. My daddy was dust settling on the highway. First Christie and I went to live with Mom Mom. But having a toddler around the house was too much for her when I was in school. We were passed from aunties to cousins and finally the family decided on Great Aunt Sylvia’s house.

I have never met my Mom Mom’s little sister. Even though my grandmother said I met her at a barbecue when I was four years old but since that was five years ago it doesn’t count. I wonder why Great Aunt Sylvia didn’t come around the family anymore.

Let’s get this over with, I thought. I double tapped the doorbell. Next I would police knock the door.

The door sprung open. First I heard Uncle Axel honk and peel away. Second the tall like 6’ 3” tall voluptuous woman standing in the doorway was in a purple velvet pantsuit with a cream ruffled shirt and a jonquil yellow silk scarf. Her feet had silver pointed slippers and on her head a plum beret perched to the side. My mouth must have fallen open because she leaned down and tapped my chin to close it. She lifted our bag off my shoulder. She smelled of spice.

“Did you know let the cat out of the bag came from English marketplaces we’re people would put a cat in an actual bad to sell as a piglet,” Great Aunt Sylvia said. Laughing high and shrill, she waved me in. My mouth fell open again.