Turning Things Around. Valerie Tripp
for storage.”
As Kit spoke, Aunt Millie put her suitcase and basket in the corner. She took off her hat and coat, put her gloves in her purse, and hung her things neatly on a hook in the hall. She turned and saw the pile of sheets Kit had dropped. “Changing sheets today, are we?” she observed. “Odd to do it on Saturday, with everyone underfoot. Still, it’s a good drying day today.” She scooped up half the pile. “We’d better begin.”
“But Aunt Millie,” said Kit as she picked up the rest of the sheets. “Don’t you want to say hello to Mother and Dad first?”
“Time enough for that after we get the laundry started,” said Aunt Millie. “Work before pleasure. Come along, Margaret Mildred. If we dillydally, we’ll waste the best sunshine.”
Kit grinned. That’s Aunt Millie for you, she thought. Never wastes a thing, not even sunshine.
Aunt Millie was not really Kit’s aunt, or Dad’s either. Mother said that calling her “Aunt” when she was no relation was a very countrified thing to do, and that they should call her “Miss Mildred” because it showed more respect. But Aunt Millie pooh-poohed putting on such airs. “Call me anything, except late for dinner,” she’d say. And so “Aunt Millie” she remained. Besides, she and her husband, Birch, were the only family Dad had ever known. They had adopted Dad after his parents died when he was a boy. Uncle Birch worked in the coal mine in Mountain Hollow, Kentucky, until he died. Kit’s family visited Aunt Millie there every Fourth of July. But Aunt Millie never came to Cincinnati. “Too many people, not enough animals,” she always said. So this visit was a big surprise.
“I can’t wait till Mother and Dad see you!” said Kit as she put the sheets in sudsy water to soak. “They’ll be so glad you’ve come for a visit.”
“Out of the blue,” said Aunt Millie. She smoothed her dress, straightened her shoulders, and smiled at Kit. “‘Lead on, Macduff!’” she said, pointing up the basement stairs. Kit was used to the way Aunt Millie quoted poetry and Shakespeare right in the middle of a normal conversation. Aunt Millie had been the schoolteacher in Mountain Hollow ever since Uncle Birch died, and she couldn’t stop herself from teaching wherever she was.
The sunshine was dazzling after the dimness of the basement. Kit squinted and Aunt Millie shaded her eyes as they crossed the yard. “Mother and Dad!” Kit called. “Come see our surprise!”
Mother and Dad came out of the garage blinking from the brightness and from amazement.
“Aunt Millie!” Dad exclaimed, striding forward to hug her. “How wonderful! I’m glad to see you!”
“I’m glad to see you, too!” Aunt Millie said.
“Miss Mildred, we’re honored,” said Mother. “It’s so kind of you to make the trip. You look well.”
“Fit as a fiddle,” said Aunt Millie. “And—”
“—twice as stringy,” she and Dad finished together.
Dad threw back his head and laughed with Aunt Millie at their old joke. Kit beamed. It’d been a long time since she’d heard Dad laugh so heartily. No one could make him laugh the way Aunt Millie could!
“I never thought I’d see the day you’d leave your home and come to the city,” Dad said to Aunt Millie. “How’s everybody in Mountain Hollow?”
“We’ve been through hard times before,” said Aunt Millie. “We’ll make it through this rough patch. But the town’s been hit pretty badly by this Depression. Last week, they closed the mine. Just couldn’t make any money from it. When they shut the mine, they closed down the school, and of course my house went with my job, so I lost it, too.”
“Oh, no!” exclaimed Dad, Mother, and Kit.
But Aunt Millie did not sound the least bit sorry for herself. “My friend Myrtle Peabody’s been after me for years to live with her,” she said. “So I guess that’s what I’ll do.” She smiled at Kit and tousled her hair. “I just thought I’d come and see how you folks are doing for a while first.”
“You are very welcome,” said Dad. “Stay as long as you like.”
“Yes,” said Mother. “You’ll stay in our room while you’re here. Kit can take you there now for a rest. You must be tired from traveling.”
“Heavenly day, Margaret!” said Aunt Millie. “I’m not the least bit tired. And you needn’t treat me like company. I wouldn’t dream of taking your room. I can park my bones anyplace. Just put me in a corner somewhere.”
“Dear me, no!” said Mother. She smiled, but Kit saw she was worried.
Poor Mother! thought Kit. She wants to make Aunt Millie comfortable, but we don’t have a room to put her in. The house is full of boarders.
“Aunt Millie can share with me,” Kit offered. “There’s plenty of room in my attic, and an extra bed we can set up, too.”
“That’ll be jim-dandy,” said Aunt Millie.
“I guess it’ll do,” said Mother, “since it’s just for a while.”
“Come on, Aunt Millie,” said Kit, taking her hand. “I’ll show you the attic. You can meet Stirling. He’s up there now drawing illustrations for our newspaper.” She grinned. “After I finish the laundry, I’ll write an article about you!”
Stirling and Aunt Millie liked each other right away. Aunt Millie was a Cincinnati Reds fan, too. When she praised Stirling’s baseball drawings, he turned bright pink with pride.
After Stirling left, Aunt Millie said to Kit, “That boy’s as scrawny as a plucked chicken now. But you mark my words—he’ll grow into that voice and those ears and elbows someday. And when he does, he’ll be a handsome fellow.”
Kit giggled at the impossible thought of pip-squeaky Stirling ever being handsome. But Aunt Millie had a way of seeing the potential in people and bringing out the best in them, too.
At first, when Dad introduced her to all the boarders at dinner, everyone was shy. They didn’t know quite what to make of Aunt Millie, with her wispy white hair, her cheeks as red as scrubbed apples, her twangy Kentucky accent, her funny expressions, and her quotes that sprang out unexpectedly.
When Aunt Millie passed Mr. Peck the mashed potatoes, she said, “Here, son. You’ve got that ‘lean and hungry look.’”
Mr. Peck smiled, but he looked bewildered. So did almost everyone else.
“That’s a quote from Shakespeare,” Kit explained.
“Julius Caesar,” said Aunt Millie. She turned to Mr. and Mrs. Bell. “Didn’t I read in Kit’s newspaper that you’ve acted in some of Shakespeare’s plays?”
“Indeed, we have!” said Mr. Bell.
“Please tell us about it,” said Aunt Millie, looking very interested.
Mrs. Bell told a funny story about Mr. Bell tripping over his sword in a play. That reminded Mr. Peck of the time three strings on his bass fiddle popped during a concert. And that reminded Miss Finney of a patient who was an opera singer and sang whenever he called for her. Soon everyone was telling funny stories and laughing uproariously—even Mrs. Howard, whose usual laugh was just a nervous giggle. Aunt Millie’s contagious hoot was loudest of all.
Kit looked at Aunt Millie and grinned from ear to ear. When I wrote my headline this morning, Kit thought, I never guessed who the very best and most surprising spring arrival of all would be!
The Waste-Not, Want-Not Almanac