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Aunt Edith
by Stephen de Medici
Jessica and Steve were clearing up lunch - leftover Christmas food - when the doorbell unexpectedly rang. They weren't expecting anyone. Jessica, a 5 foot 5 petite brunette, looked quizzically at her slim six foot tall husband of three years. Steve shrugged silently, having no more idea who it was than his pretty wife.

"I'll go," Steve offered and made his way along the almost bare hallway towards the front door. The stained glass panel showed the shadow of a stout female form. His puzzled frown deepened as he reached for the door handle.

Standing on the door step was a formidable middle-aged woman, classically handsome rather than pretty or beautiful, and she had about her an aura of power. This aura was almost palpable and, as it was early January, supplemented by what seemed like steam coming off her head and clothing. All in all, it was a daunting sight for Steve. He knew the lady. It was his mother's sister, Aunt Edith, and she looked decidedly cross.

"Auntie!" Steve said with surprise. "Wha..?" Before he could get the rest of his query out Edith walked forward, forcing him to step aside and open the door fully to allow her entry.

"Good day to you too, Stephen," Edith stated as she passed her nephew. "Close the door, dear, it's rather chilly out."

A chill that had nothing to do with the cold ran up his spine. Usually, only his mother called him Stephen and only when he had been in trouble as a child. Hearing his aunt say it caused unaccountable squirming in the pit of his stomach. Jessica had come to the kitchen door to find out who was calling on them the day after New Year's Day so Edith strode forwards in her sensible shoes and Jessica gave way to allow this somehow threatening figure to enter the kitchen. Stephen followed, still puzzled as to why they were receiving a rare visit from his dour aunt. Edith undid her sensible overcoat and imperiously handed it to Steve, revealing a knee-length tweed skirt, white blouse and deep purple cardigan that clothed her slightly-stout figure. At 45 she still looked trim but... substantial... was the word most people used when describing her - though not to her face!

Steve hung up her coat while Jessica offered their unexpected visitor a cup of tea. Edith accepted the offer and sat at the pine kitchen table.

"Happy New Year, Auntie," Steve finally managed to say as he rejoined them in the kitchen. "You're looking well."

"Fit as a fiddle," Edith replied. There was a subtle uplift of the corners of her mouth which Steve had rarely seen. Steve had always thought his aunt to be an unhappy woman from having lost her husband to a work accident some ten years previously. She was the elder sister to his mother and, Steve assumed, took her seniority rather too seriously, like being the matriarch of the family was a serious matter.