by Natalie Ward
Fuck, why did I have to mention L.A. That place and those people are the last thing I want to think or talk about. “Yeah my parents are, but Mia, as you know, lives in Chicago.”
“And you don’t go and visit them?”
Why the hell did I open my big mouth? Not only do I not go and visit them, I don’t even talk to them and I try very hard not to ever think about them. If it wasn’t for that day my dad showed up, I doubt even Jared would have known anything about my parents. “Nah, I don’t really get along with my parents anymore,” I say, confused at why I’m even telling her this, I never actively tell anyone. “I mean we haven’t really spoken in seven or eight years actually.” Longer really, when you think about it. I don’t think I’ve ever really spoken to them my whole life. “Mia and me are close, obviously,” I add, as if she doesn’t already know this. “But not my parents and me.”
I’m silently pleading that she doesn’t ask me why. It’s not that I want to keep anything from her, but I’m sort of afraid what she will think about what happened nearly six years ago. I’m not sure I want her to know that side of me. Ash is looking at me as though she’s trying to work out what to say. I’m waiting for her to ask why, but then she surprises me with something I never expected to hear.
“Both of my parents are dead, my brother too.”
Fuck.
“Oh shit, Ash,” I immediately say, feeling like a dick for even bringing this up in the first place. “I’m so sorry.”
Ash doesn’t say anything for a second and neither do I. When I glance down, I notice her hand is in mine. I don’t even realise I’ve done it, but we are now holding hands. Ash hasn’t moved and I don’t want to either. My fingers are spinning the ring she wears on her thumb and somehow, we are sitting here holding hands and it is the most amazing, yet totally normal feeling.
When our food arrives, I’m forced to let go of her hands so we can eat. I barely remember what we talk about because I’m too busy thinking about everything she just told me. It’s sort of become clearer now, the real reason she might have wanted to come to Providence today. Maybe she wants to go and see her family, her past. I don’t fully get it, because having this relationship, this connection to where you are from, is just so foreign to me. It’s not something I understand because it’s so completely opposite to what I have, to what I had before I left. But I already know Ash’s life is different to mine, the photos all over her apartment prove that.
I have no idea why she’s brought me along today though, and there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to read too much into it. But she does seem scared about being back here and the only thing I can come up with right now is that she doesn’t want to be back here alone.
When we finish our meal, Ash pays, shaking her head when I go for my wallet. I let it go, knowing I’m possibly here for different reasons, and instead I turn to her and say, “So, should we go and visit them?”
“Who?” she asks, confused.
I smile at her, take her hand in mine again and say, “Your family?”
I know she’s shocked by my suggestion, but there’s a tiny flash of relief too. When I see that, I know it was the right thing to suggest. I have no idea why she is so scared, I just know I’m going to be here for her, whatever happens.
“You’d do that?” she says as we walk out the door.
“Of course,” I say, wishing I could tell her I’d do anything for her, if she’d just let me.
The walk takes us an hour and I hold her hand the whole way, trying to distract her as much as I can. When we reach the cemetery, I let go as she walks through the front gates. I follow her to three graves standing side by side, the names of her father, her mother, and her brother carved into the headstones. As I glance over them, it takes a second for it all to register, but when it does, I’m fucking speechless.
Seriously? This seriously happened to her.
I turn to look at Ash, but she is staring at the headstones, her father’s. He died today; he died three fucking years ago, today. “Ash, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, wishing there was something more I could say, something more I could do. “I’m so very sorry.”
She turns to face me and there’s a look on her face, a mixture of sadness and resignation. “It’s okay, Luke, really,” is all she says.
And I can’t help thinking; no, it’s not. It’s not okay at all, it’s not even close. This is so completely different to everything I have with my family. And seeing Ash now, how upset she is, the one thing I realise is that it’s all so unfair as well. Why does she have to lose the family she so clearly loves? Why did she have to lose all of them? Fuck, even with all the shit going on in my family, at least I have Mia, but Ash, she has nobody.
I step towards her without thinking and pull her against me, my arms wrapping around her as I whisper, “I’m so sorry, Ash. I didn’t realise.” These words aren’t enough, there is nothing I can say that will ever be enough, but I want her to know how sorry I am.
Ash wraps her arms around my waist and I feel myself actually exhale as my head falls on to hers and we stand here, neither of us saying anything. I might not speak to my parents, but I don’t grieve them, and I don’t miss having them in my life. For Ash though, it’s clearly a very different story. Just seeing her, standing here looking at them, I can tell this is a family that loved each other very much. It’s a family I would’ve liked to have, a family I would like to have one day. And for her to lose them the way she did, not just her dad today, but her mom on her birthday and her brother the day after it. Fuck, to look at the dates, I’d even guess her mom died the day Asha was born. It’s no wonder this girl walks around with a cloud of sadness hanging over her.
Eventually she lets go and I watch as she walks forward and runs her hand over the top of each headstone before turning back to me. “Thank you, Luke,” she says, her eyes meeting mine.
I stare at her for a second, knowing there is one more suggestion I need to make. I know who else she’s lost, who else she loved, and I have to suggest it, because it’s the right thing to do. “Do you want to go and see Sam?”
I watch as she visibly exhales before whispering, “He’s in Seattle, but thanks anyway.”
And I don’t know what makes me do it, whether it’s the sadness in her eyes, the enormity at seeing everything she has lost or just the fact that I miss being close to her, but I take a step forward and pull her into my arms again. I wrap them tightly around her and she buries her face in my chest. And despite everything that has happened this morning and all the reasons why we are here, I can’t help feeling like this is exactly where we are both meant to be.
“How about we go and get a drink?” Ash eventually suggests, her head still on my chest.
I don’t want to move, don’t ever want to let her go, but I reluctantly pull back, knowing we can’t stand here all day. As I stare down at her, push the hair back from her face and hold it in my hands, I want to ask her why she brought me here today. Why, of all the things that we could ever do together, why did she want me to come with her today? I don’t know if it’s a test or if it’s her way of introducing me to her family or what. All I do know is whatever it was, or is, I want to have passed. I want to have been enough for her. I want her to ask me to do anything she wants or needs.
“I think I definitely owe you a drink,” she says again, and I realise I’m still holding on to her, staring at her as I try to work out what the hell is going on between us. Ash licks her bottom lip and suddenly my thoughts spin to kissing her. How easy it would be to lean down and do it, to press my lips against hers, pull her against me and drown in her.
But we’re standing in a fucking cemetery, beside the graves of her family. I drop my hands immediately, knowing this is wrong. Whatever it is I think is happening between us, it can’t happen here. Not now and not today. “Sure,” I say and I watch as something crosses Ash’s face too.
We turn and leave the cemetery, catching a taxi somewhere and finding ourselves a tiny b
ar where we spend the afternoon eating and drinking. The mood between us lightens, but I’m still stuck in that moment in the cemetery. The moment where I pulled her into my arms and felt hers wrap around me.
When it starts to get dark, Ash suggests we leave, so I settle the bill and we head out to walk back to the train station. She’s a little drunk, not badly, but it’s enough for me to take her hand again, just in case. I hold it the whole way to the station; keep holding it when we get on the train, sliding in beside her again. Half an hour out of Boston, I turn to Ash and see she has fallen asleep, her head resting on my shoulder. I can feel her soft breath against the skin of my neck and I let go of her hand, wrapping my arm around her as I pull her closer. For just a second, her lips brush against my skin in an almost kiss and I feel by heart pound in my chest.
When we get back to Boston, I reluctantly wake her up and we walk hand in hand back to her apartment, neither of us saying a word. By the time we reach her front door, I feel like I’m going to lose my mind. Having spent an entire day with no one but her, holding her hand, holding her close, seeing her so unbelievably sad and standing here now at her front door, I just don’t want to let her go, don’t want to leave her.
“Thank you for breakfast,” I say, drawing her hand to my mouth where I risk a kiss on her palm. “And dinner.” I want to step in closer and press a kiss to her lips. The way she’s looking at me right now, it’s intoxicating. She’s pulling me in and I can’t stop myself anymore, I want her, I want more of her. I don’t just want to be friends with her anymore; it’s not enough. I want to taste her, have her, wake up beside her. I want to be able to hold her hand and kiss her whenever I want to.
I want her.
“Thank you for today, Luke,” she breathes out, her words barely a whisper between us.
“Anytime, Ash,” I say, wishing we could walk inside her apartment and never leave. “Anytime.”
We stand here, staring at each other; the only sound is our breathing and the noise of my heart, which is pounding in my chest. I want to kiss her so fucking badly, but I’m too afraid. Today has already been so much more than I expected and although I want more, I’m afraid to push it. Afraid that if I kiss her, or risk trying to, she’ll run, and I don’t want her to run anymore.
I see my fingers reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear and I know I have to get the hell out of here. So I smile at her, whisper, “Goodnight,” even though I don’t think she hears me, and then I turn and walk away, knowing I have no chance of sleeping tonight. Not when I can still smell her, can still feel the heat of her body as it was pressed against mine.
Not when I miss her as much as I already do.
Track 26 (A side) - The End Is Coming
Was this part of the plan
All these things that I’m feeling
Never expected to face this
And my mind is still reeling
∞
“Hey, Luke,” Mia says, walking into the kitchen.
I’m making all of us some dinner on a rare night when we are actually home in time to eat it. I’m surprised at how much I’ve missed cooking now I’ve practically stopped doing it. I never really saw it as a career, more a means to an end when someone taught me how. I’ve never gotten any formal training; it’s been more learning on the job. But it surprised me then, and surprises me now, just how much I enjoy it.
“Hey sis, you alright?” I ask, looking up as she grabs us both a beer from the fridge.
“Um, not sure,” she says, handing me one. “Can I help with dinner?”
I take the beer from her and watch as she looks around the kitchen, anywhere but at me. “Depends, you gonna tell me what’s going on here?” Mia looks back at me and I can tell she’s thinking about whether she should. “Mia,” I say. “Remember what happened last time you didn’t talk to me, we’re past that shit now, right?”
Mia exhales before taking a sip of her beer. “Yeah I know, it’s just…” she trails off and I have no idea what the hell’s going on with her right now.
“It’s just what?”
“Dad’s in the hospital,” she says, looking me right in the eye.
“What?”
Mia shrugs, as though she isn’t sure what she just said either. “I just got a call from Mom,” she says, shrugging again. “To tell me that Dad is in the hospital. Apparently he’s gone downhill pretty fast; they think he might have had a stroke or something.”
Her words are not what I expected to hear and I’m not quite sure what to make of them either. I’m surprised when my heart starts to pound a little, the sudden tightness in my chest that I didn’t expect to have.
“I was kind of surprised she called me, actually,” Mia continues. “Given how much she seems to openly despise me.”
A part of me thinks I know why. Mom will have done this because she knows Mia is Dad’s favourite. And even though that feeling is not reciprocated, I’m sure, Mom figures this is one way she can try and hurt Mia. If only she knew.
I take a deep breath, my mind trying to make sense of the fact that my father is holed up in some hospital, having had a stroke, possibly… “Is he alive?” I suddenly ask, as another thought occurs to me.
Mia nods at me. “Yeah, he is, although I don’t think he’s in very good shape.” She jumps up on the counter, taking a seat opposite where I stand chopping ingredients for a salad. “Do you think we should go and see him?”
“Fuck, I don’t want to see him,” I say immediately, not really stopping to think about whether this is true. “Do you?”
Mia shrugs again, finishing off her beer. “Don’t know, I guess not.”
“But?” I ask.
Mia stares at me now as if she’s trying to think of the best way to say this. “But don’t you think we should?” she eventually says.
I keep chopping, finishing off the salad I’m making while I think about what Mia has just said. Do I want to go and see him, really? I don’t know. After going to see him and unloading years of frustration a couple of weeks ago, I thought it was over. I thought I didn’t want to ever see him again, that I wouldn’t have to. I guess I’m probably kidding myself with that, because I’m clearly still thinking about it all. My insomnia and nightmares are proof of that. And I guess, deep down, there’s a part of me that never expected this, this next… thing with him. Even after he told me he was sick.
When I’m done with the salad I rinse off my hands, pick up my beer, and walk over to the counter Mia is sitting on, and lean against it. Mia’s head falls onto my shoulder, just like it always did when we were kids and I can’t help wrapping an arm around her, pulling her closer. She is the only person in the world who can possibly know what this feels like.
“Luke,” she whispers when I still haven’t said anything.
I exhale. “I don’t know, Mia,” I say. “I just don’t know what the hell we are supposed to do here.” I stop; take another pull on my beer as I finally say the words I feel like have been trapped inside me forever. “I mean I hate him. I’ve hated him for so long now that I can’t even remember what it feels like not to hate him. And I guess that’s what makes me not want to…” I trail off, suddenly unsure.
“Yeah,” she says, lifting her head to look at me. “I know you do, I do too remember?”
I turn and look at my sister. “He’s just done so much to fuck up our lives, I’m not sure how I’m ever supposed to let that go. Have you let it go?” I ask, meeting her stare.
“No,” she says, shaking her head as if to emphasise her words. “How the fuck can I, after everything he did to us?”
I squeeze her shoulder, pulling her closer. “I know,” I whisper. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“So the what the fuck do we do?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, I mean I can’t believe that just because he’s dying, he expects me, us, to…it just, it doesn’t…”
“It doesn’t seem fair?” Mia suggests, and I know she knows exactly what I’m trying to say
.
“No,” I say quietly. “It really fucking doesn’t.” I feel Mia’s arm slide around my waist now and we sit in silence for a few minutes.
“Do you think it makes us bad people?” Mia eventually asks. “That we think this way about our own father?”
I finish my beer and walk to the fridge to get us a couple more. Twisting the tops off, I hand one to Mia and then join her sitting on the kitchen counter now. “Do you think anything he did makes him a good father?” I ask, staring at the salad bowl sitting opposite me. “I mean I know two wrongs don’t make a right or whatever, but how the fuck else are we supposed to act?”
“Dunno, like grown ups,” Mia says, her foot kicking mine.
I glance at her and see her smiling back at me and I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah right, you’ve always been a baby, Mia,” I say rubbing my knuckles into her hair. “My little baby sister.”
“Fuck off,” she says, smiling as her foot swings against mine.
I take another sip of beer. “You love it, Mia.”
“Whatever,” she says, poking me in the ribs. “This still doesn’t solve the problem of whether we go see him though, does it.”
I shake my head. “No, it doesn’t,” I say. “You tell Jared yet?” I ask, taking another sip of my beer.
Mia’s head falls onto my shoulder again. “Not yet, but I will, I promise.”
I smile. “Good. You’re done with this stubborn ass side now, right?” I ask.
“Fuck off, geez what is this, pick on Mia day or something,” she says, her head still on my shoulder. I can’t help but laugh as she continues, “But no, I’m going to tell him, I learned my lesson, okay,” she says, her hand grabbing mine now. “I promise, Luke, I’m done with hiding shit. From of either of you. And just for the record, I’m not and never was a stubborn ass you know.” I’m still laughing at her excuses. “What?” Mia says, punching me in the ribs. “What are you laughing at?”
“You, you idiot,” I say, kicking her foot with mine.
