"It's time to leave now," Mrs. Job beckoned from inside, her voice ringing out from the open door.
Amelia sighed, watching the last remnants of daylight slip away.
She wasn't fond of visiting her Aunt Becca's house.
As Aunt Becca was Pearl's only sister, there was an unspoken expectation that they should be close, but Amelia couldn't shake the discomfort she felt when she was around her.
Aunt Becca, or Aunty Rebecca as her mother always called her, had an undeniable air of eccentricity. She insisted on being in her "prime" - a term that had grown increasingly absurd as the years wore on.
Despite numerous suitors in her youth, she had turned down each one with an aloofness Amelia found hard to understand.
Now, well into her forties, Aunt Becca still lived alone, except for the constant company of her dog and cat—Fluffy, the cat, was particularly pampered and often found draped over her aunt's lap like a living blanket.
Amelia couldn't help but wonder what it might be like to have a cousin to confide in, or even someone to talk to other than her parents.
"If only she'd agree to one of these men, I would have a cousin to talk to in this lonely house," Amelia grumbled under her breath, flicking imaginary dust from her dress, though she knew it was pointless. Her mom, Pearl, would never make her sister do anything she didn't want to.
"Coming, Mom!" Amelia called back as Mrs. Job's voice echoed from the house.
The clock on her phone told her it was almost 6 p.m. - they had to leave soon to make it home before dark. Mrs. Job stepped out of the house, her tote bag slung over her shoulder, the familiar weight of it a comforting reminder of their quiet, well-ordered life.
Aunt Becca followed her, carrying a large, fluffy cat that seemed to be overfed and more content in her aunt's arms than Amelia had ever seen an animal.
"Aunt Becca, can't you just let Fluffy walk for once?" Amelia couldn't help muttering under her breath, rolling her eyes as her aunt cradled the cat like a baby.
Mrs. Job gave her a gentle look. "Be nice, Amelia."
"I'm sorry, Mom," Amelia mumbled, not quite feeling the apology. Aunt Becca's insistence on treating the cat like royalty was one of many things Amelia found strange.
Her mom opened the car door, sliding into the front seat and fastening her seatbelt. Amelia followed her, slipping into the back. She wasn't sure why, but being in the backseat made her feel a bit like a child again.
Aunt Becca, always an odd mix of regality and aloofness, followed them to the car, Fluffy still in tow, her movements deliberate and slow.
Amelia sighed as she sank into her seat, her phone in hand, though she wasn't looking at it. She just wanted to get home.
The drive to Aunt Becca's house was always long a solid two-hour trip, and they were already running behind schedule. Amelia hated how long it took, especially since the house was just on the far side of the city.