Goode Parenting

“So how exactly does this work?” the teenager asked, sitting in the passenger side of Vivian’s car, pulling up to the driveway of Ginger Baines’ small New Jersey house. The car ride had been relatively silent except for directions given by Henny on how to get to her mother’s home.

Vivian’s mind was blank. She parked the car in front of the house and turned off the car, sitting still, staring at her deceased sister’s home.

“It’s not much but we called it home,” Henny spoke out, assuming a big city mogul like Vivian Goode would think little of their cottage like abode.

“She always said she wanted red shutters,” Vivian said, looking at the white house with cherry colored shutters. “She sure got them.”

Henny rolled her eyes at the woman’s reminiscence.

“I’m going inside,” the young girl announced, climbing out of the car and fishing house keys from her pocket. Vivian followed her.

It was the first time Vivian had ever seen her sister’s house or her sister’s daughter. Everything was a blur to her at that moment. It was so much to take in. She stopped at the doorway and peered inside the house at the small living room and kitchen that seemed to be connected. She recognized things from their childhood home in there. It brought tears to her eyes.

“Are you gonna come in?” Henny asked.

Vivian nodded and walked through the threshold. Henny closed the door behind her Aunt as she looked around. The shelves were littered with pictures of Henny and her mother, then of Vivian and Ginger’s mother, and finally of Vivian and Ginger as schoolgirls. Vivian studied each one intently, seeing the history contained in each picture frame.

The nurse at the hospital had said very little about Henny’s father who Vivian had guessed had run out on Ginger when Henny was quite young. She remembered him from when she was young. Lou was from Philadelphia and they met at Ginger’s work. She waited tables for the only food stop between Jersey and the Walt Whitman Bridge at that time and he would always stop by. One day she broke the news to Vivian that she had gotten an apartment in Philadelphia with Lou and they were having a baby together. That was the last she saw of her older sister. Looking at the picture of a young Ginger and Lou in front of the diner’s bar brought the memories back up in her mind.

“Do you want something to eat?” Henny asked, interrupting Vivian’s thoughts.

“Huh?” Her aunt asked, coming back to reality. “Um, no thanks I’m okay for now.”

The young girl shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’m starving.” She opened the refrigerator door and scrounged around for leftovers. “You know…you really don’t have to take me with you.”

“What do you mean?” Vivian asked, following Henny into the kitchen.

“I’m almost out of high school. Not trying to be rude or anything, but I can take of myself.” The teenager said, sitting down at the table. Vivian took the seat across from her.

“You’d want to live in this house by yourself?” Vivian shook her head. “I wouldn’t wish that on you.”

“No offense,” Henny started between bites of chicken salad sandwich, “but it’s more comfortable than living with a woman I don’t even know in a city I’ve never been in.”

“I understand,” her aunt nodded. “When my mom died I had…your mom. I know how hard it is…just trying to get through it.”

Henny shrugged. “I’ll be okay.”

“I would like you to stay with me though…I’m your only living relative and I’d like to get to know you better. I mean, we’ve never even met before. Would you allow me that?” Vivian asked.

Henny sighed. “Sure, I guess.”

“Thanks Henrietta,” Vivian smiled.

“It’s not Henrietta. It’s Henny,” the girl pointed at her aunt angrily. “Heh—knee.”

Vivian nodded. “Sorry…Henny.”