Unfinished Sympathy

by Amélie S. Duncan

  “Are you staying here?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she confirmed, not taking her eyes off the television. “My new place won’t be available until the first of December, and then we’ll be moving in there.”

  I stormed to my mom’s room. There I found the blaring television perched on her dresser. She was sitting in a chair with just a towel draped over her, trembling. Her long, pale brown hair was brushed and braided.

  Faith was clearing the sheets from the bed and sanitizing the plastic covering underneath.

  “The doctor said you don’t have urinary incontinence. You purposely piss the bed, you must wait until I’m done,” Faith said, scolding our mother.

  “Hello, Mom,” I said, my voice small.

  Her gaze remained on Faith, but she said, “Hello.”

  “How about I help you out?” I said, taking my mom’s hand to lift her from the chair.

  “Yeah, do it,” Faith said.

  My mom rose from the chair with my help. I took her to the bathroom and cleaned her up, changing her into adult diapers and linen slacks with a matching pullover shirt. The outfit was as elegant as she had ever been. Once her slippers were on, though, she rushed back to Faith.

  “All better now,” she announced, and when Faith nodded her approval, Mom smiled but it was just a sliver of the smile that used to light her face when we were growing up.

  A tear pinched the corner of my eye, but I took a deep breath. Tears weren’t welcome now. They wouldn’t make the situation better. I took out the envelope from my wallet and handed the money to Faith. I’d taken out the maximum from an ATM on the way. I knew better than to come empty-handed.

  She stopped making the bed and opened the envelope, thumbing through the bills. “It’s more than usual. I figured you were holding out on us. As you can see, we needed it—but I’m sure you were too busy thinking of yourself.”

  “I see you have a visitor?” I said, ignoring her insult.

  “Margo needed help, and she has a kid. She helps me out with Mom, too,” Faith lifted her chin. “We weren’t expecting you to come here. You know I decide when it’s a good time for visits.”

  “I thought you said Mom couldn’t be around people who’ll trouble her,” I said. That was the reason she had given me not to stay there when I’d had no place to stay.

  “Mom knows Margo,” she replied dismissively. “She needs company.”

  I stared at her. Oh, like she didn’t know me? I wasn’t company for her?

  “You came to spend time with her, so do it,” Faith said.

  I went back into the living room and found Mom braiding Margo’s hair.

  I fingered my own dark brown hair.

  “Do you want me to braid yours too?” Mom asked. “You’d keep it back when you played the violin.” She started to sob. “Your daddy loved his violinist.”

  Margo patted her arm. “It will be okay, Mrs. Irving.”

  “I loved him so much,” Mom moaned. “I did. I really did. He knew… he had to know. I’d say it when he asked me.”

  My heart hurt with how she tormented herself.

  “He knew. I love you, Mom.” To my dismay, her body tensed as my arms closed around her. “How are you doing?”

  Margo picked up her child and left the room.

  “You don’t need to worry about me. Faith takes good care of me,” Mom said.

  I bit my tongue. Much better than I would have I bet she thinks now.

  Mom went quiet, and I coaxed her to tell me stories of the adult day center to try to lift her spirits. When she wanted to watch television, I left her and headed to the basement to see what was left of what I stored there.

  A musty, moist air immediately filled my nostrils as I eased down the steep concrete steps. Reaching up, I pulled the string to turn on the single hanging light. I eyed the dirt-streaked windows leading outside. They appeared sealed shut.

  I covered my mouth to suppress a cry. There was no plastic wrapping over my belongings, and some of them had become damp. A puddle of water was drying near my violin, which was out of its case. My hands shook as I grabbed a towel off the line and rubbed it. Didn’t Faith know the sacrifice my dad had put into purchasing it? I remembered the day well. He came to help me settle into my dorm room.

  “Where did this box come from?” my dad teased, bringing a box from the hallway and placing it on my bed. “Open it.”

  I frowned at it but followed his instructions. A Ming Jiang Zhu 925 violin. They easily went for seven thousand dollars…

  I shook my head decisively and closed the case. “We can’t afford this. No, Dad. Please, please take it back.”

  “That’s for me to worry about. We’ll be fine. I have a payment plan. You need the best to be the best. You’ll pay me back when you’re rich and famous.” His childlike eyes pleaded as they stared back at me. He needed my approval, and I couldn’t give it.

  “You need to stop. I’ve made it here because of you. The violin I have already is good enough. Please stop buying me things and take care of yourself. I saw a bill in the glove compartment. It said past due—”

  “That’s none of your business. I told you that I handled it.” He turned away from me. “I did this to make you happy.”

  “Dad, don’t you know much I love you. I love you because I love you, not because you buy things for me.”

  I hugged him from the back as tightly as I’d done so many times before, hoping I would reach him.

  Hoping he’d really feel love.

  “You’re down here now, are you?” Faith said, interrupting my thoughts. She paused next to me with the laundry basket and joined me staring down at my broken violin. “I told you about the leak.”

  “Why didn’t you clear this out?” I asked, gritting my teeth. “How did my violin get here?”

  “Ask Mom,” she replied sharply. “She forgot herself and took it out.”

  Had she? I couldn’t help but think this was all Faith. Instead of selling it, she’d played the long game and waited for me to come and see what had happened to my things to destroy me.

  “But you were too busy to put it back?” I snapped.

  “You think it’s fucking easy to take care of her?” Faith said. “I’ve sacrificed my whole life after Dad died to come here. You get to live it up in New York City, while I struggle to make things work.”

  “It’s been anything but easy in New York for me. Mom said she goes to the daycare four days a week. You can arrange a caregiver for the rest.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she replied contemptuously. “I won’t, because I love her, and I’m not selfish like you. You played the violin like you were a rich person who doesn’t need a job. You put our father in financial debt and made him sick. You had the luxury of a mental breakdown after he died. Yet you’re still blaming me for your problems. You and Mom both went crazy and I’m only one person. I couldn’t keep you both—”

  “I had to leave school, and I was homeless—” I interjected.

  “—You did all that to yourself. You wanted Mom’s home in jeopardy over your drug use and mental drama, did you? You never once thought about how much dragging Mom into your misery hurt her. You’re not homeless anymore. You have a job and an apartment. Now you pay to take care of our Mom. That’s all we ask of you.”

  I jutted my chin. “You’re right. I did take those drugs and I did need help. I worked hard to get a place to live and work, and after today I won’t have the money I’ve had. I’ve been demoted and the extra income isn’t there anymore. I’ve done all I can, and things will have to change. You’ll have to get a job. I can’t afford to do it all anymore.”

  “You can’t, or you won’t?” she said, raising her voice. “Dad wasn’t the only one helping you. Mom spent thirty years with him, sacrificed her life for you too, and you can’t help? You cry over the old instrument of a career you threw away, and it’s all our fault, is it?”

  “I maxed out on personal loans to pay back what I need
ed for court. I used the rest to help save this house. I worked two jobs to keep you and Mom living here after you threw me out to put food on the table for you and your friends—and all I am is money now?” I yelled and gestured towards my rotting stuff on the floor. “I’ve done everything I can for years to make up for the past and this is how you still treat me? The house is in shambles, but you should be the sole person making decisions?”

  She stuck her finger in my face. “You come here on your high horse demanding everything to be perfect when I have to deal with mom’s hysterics every day. You want it perfect, you do it! You do it and get the hell out.”

  I pushed her hand away and grabbed the broken violin, placing it in the case to carry. Then I went back upstairs with it and kissed my mom before walking outside.

  Everything in me told me I should leave, but I couldn’t.

  I stumbled down the drive and let out a cry of frustration. Faith didn’t get to keep putting me down. She didn’t get to dismiss me.

  I went back to the front and emptied the mailbox, setting it straight. Next, I went to the garage and took out the garden bag, moving to the front of the house and dropping on my knees to weed the asters and shape the shrubs. After a while, a bush began taking shape. I fixed another. I went back to the weeds in the grass. Then back to the shrubs. There was so much more I could fix. I’ll make it all better, Mom. You’ll see.

  “I could’ve helped here. I should have been here to help,” I said under my breath.

  A hand’s grip bit into my shoulders, and I turned my head to find Faith glowering down at me.

  “You’ve lost it. You’re mumbling to yourself. I phoned the police. You either get out or you’ll be back in the hospital on another forty-eight-hour mental health hold.”

  I dropped the shears that had cut a lock of my long hair without my noticing. “Then I can’t work. Mom will go to a group home. The bank will take the house, and you’ll be homeless—”

  “And that’ll all be your fault,” she said. “You’re crazy, and that’s why you couldn’t stay here. I’m not dealing with you for another minute.”

  I heard the siren in the distance and a smile spread on her lips.

  “She’s my mom too. I’m not leaving.” My voice squeaked. I picked up the garbage bag and put the contents in the trash.

  “Faith, come back inside,” Mom called shrilly from the side door.

  “Mom doesn’t want you here,” Faith said. “You’re upsetting her. Leave!”

  The siren was louder now, and Faith grasped my arm. “I’ll tell them to go if you’ll leave now.”

  “No,” I said yanking free of her. “You called the police on me for no reason, now deal with the consequences. You beat me down like you’re the only one suffering. You have a roof over your head and food to eat. I try to support you both, and now, apparently, I’m also helping your friend, but all that’s ends when they take me away. Now, we’ll see who’s selfish.”

  She left me and went back inside the house. I had the lawnmower out to cut the grass and was unraveling the garden hose when a voice called out behind me.

  “Excuse me, miss?”

  I lifted my head to acknowledge the police officer who had appeared on the slate path. “Do you live here?”

  “My mom lives here,” I replied and returned to checking the lawnmower bag.

  “I understand they asked you to leave,” the officer said. “I prefer to make it your choice if you go quietly now, or I must arrest you for trespassing.”

  I dropped what I had and held out my hands. “Go ahead. I have nothing left.”

  “I’ll take her home.”

  My lungs shrank at the sound of Paul’s voice.

  My head twisted toward the sound and there he stood, just as I’d left him on the street. A solemn expression etched on his gorgeous face.

  “Come on, Aubrey. It’s time to go.” His words were like a demand and I wavered, wanting to please him still. Instead, I dug in my heels and dropped my head. He shouldn’t be there.

  “I’m cleaning my mom’s house. I can help, too. I can be here,” I said and wiped my eyes on my sleeve.

  “I know,” he said in a gentle tone, walking over and holding out his hand. “You’re done now, and we need to leave. And don’t for a minute tell me to leave you when we both know I won’t. I’m not letting you go. You’re mine.”

  I trembled, and he wrapped his arms around me. I was dirty, my hair a tangled mess. I’d lost the job I’d worked for and he’d lost his music. He’d heard all my secrets and was still here.

  I couldn’t speak and let him lead me to the car, but not before looking over my shoulder to find my mom and sister watching from the screen door as we passed.

  Faith and my mom were holding each other, and it was then I realized that I was apart from them. I had been alone, but I wouldn’t be anymore.

  Regan joined us on the sidewalk, and I climbed inside the car. I sat in the back and Paul spoke with the officer before we drove away.

  “How are you here?” I asked.

  “I called your friend Destiny when I couldn’t reach you. She was your emergency contact number. She told me what was at stake if you went home. I had the address from the water heater repairman.”

  “Destiny…” I said. She always knew the truth. Faith must have told her what I’d done. She’d never mentioned it. I hugged myself.

  “She is a good friend and she loves you,” he said. “I’m grateful she told me what could happen to you if you came here. I left as soon as I could to find you.”

  “Thank you for all you’ve done for me. You shouldn’t have, but I’m grateful…. You’re here now, even though you know I’m crazy,” I said and sucked in air.

  “I know you’re the hardest working person I know. I know you’re talented, gorgeous, passionate, funny, and the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. I know you love your family and did everything you could for them. You’ve also done everything you could to help them and are holding guilt for something you did out of grief. I was never looking for perfect because I’m not. I was looking for real, and I found the real you. I’m not leaving. I will wait for you to forgive yourself.”

  “What if it takes forever?” I asked quietly.

  “Then I’ll step in and make you,” Paul said, a spark in his eyes.

  I cocked a brow. “Oh, you’ll make me?”

  “I will, because I don’t like my days without you,” he replied. “I love you. I’m telling you now because this is a bad moment for you, and I want you to know my love is unconditional. You don’t have to play for me, but I love that you do. Just be you. And when you fall apart, I’ll be right here to bring you back together. You don’t have to say, ‘I love you’ back, I know you do.”

  “I love you,” I said. “I’m telling you now when things are bad, and when time is so precious. I will not wait to tell you how much you mean to me.”

  “You mean so much to me,” he said and kissed my cheek. “Now we can start.”

  “Start what?” I asked.

  “Forever,” he said and kissed me deeply.

  “I have things to do before our forever,” I said when we broke apart. “One involves a conversation with Gunnar.”

  “That can’t be good, but you won’t do whatever you have planned alone. I’ll be right there with you.” His tone was commanding, but I would not cut him out from my life anymore.

  “I want that,” I said. “There’s nothing left to hide. You have all my secrets now.”

  “There’s no going back,” he mused. “I love you.” He’d said it again, and I never would grow tired of hearing it.

  “I love you so much, Paul.”

  He pressed his forehead against mine and I whispered it repeatedly, adding it to my other devotions and vows to never hold back from him. I’d fill our time with the same love, care, and patience he’d shown me.

  I wanted to be better. Not just for him, but for myself. And it started with forgiveness.

 
Aubrey

  8:01 A.M.: CHECK YOUR ASSIGNMENT LIST. I SENT IT BEFORE YOU CAME IN

  The message came from Daniel. He was flexing his new power as a higher tier in the chain of command of our audio team. So much so that he was even using capital letters for all of his texts.

  I smirked and showed the message to Destiny. She was already in her flight attendant uniform.

  “He’s letting his new position go to his enormous-sized head,” she said, tucking in the back collar of my suit jacket.

  “Yep, he’s picking up right where Ryan left off,” I replied, bending down and tying my white Old Skool Vans shoes.

  “You sure you’re ready to go back in today?” she asked, touching the ends of my bobbed hair. “I know you went through a lot last Friday with your family. I’m sorry that I interfered. When Paul came here and asked me where you were—”

  “Don’t be,” I said, securing my backpack. “You saved me from myself, and that’s all I could ever hope for. You’re my bestie and I love you hard, silly.”

  She teared up and hugged me. “I’m relieved and happy that Paul found you. He cares for you.”

  My heart warmed. “Yes, I believe he really does.”

  He loved me when I fell apart, and I was there to hold him up when he needed me. Together, we formed an unshakable bond. I believed in his love and he believed in me.

  “You’re invited to Quinn and Kyle’s going-away bash on Friday. Will you be back in the US?” I asked. The first time we’d all go out together, and it was because they were celebrating leaving Emono Games. That was something I regretted not doing sooner.

  “I’ll be back for it,” she said. “I feel like I know them from what you told me. What did you say Kyle’s doing again?”

  “Broadway. He received the callback Friday night,” I said, grinning.

  I didn’t even know he could sing or dance. Quinn kept better secrets than me. Speaking of secrets, Destiny had been awfully quiet about Enzo.