by S.M. Winter
We will get there as soon as possible.”
“But I can run faster than this,” I said.
“That might be true,” he said calmly. “But are you going to run all the way to New Jersey?”
A storm began to brew outside. Behind the driver, I struggled with my emotions and looked out the window. I stared at the clouds as they were forming in the sky. They looked dangerous, dark and heavy with rain that threatened to spill over. I looked over to Valerie and she gave me a reassuring look. She was upset as well but she was doing a better job of keeping a lid on it. Thunder and lightning cracked nearby. Chauncy laid an encouraging hand on my leg. Almost as if my prayers were answered the traffic began to thin and we didn’t have trouble for the rest of the trip. I watched the sky as we drove to my sister’s little house near the shore.
It was a tiny little neighborhood where everyone knew each other. A taxi stuck out like a sore thumb in an area like this, where every neighbor wanted to know who was coming and who was going. I stopped the taxi a block away from my sister’s house and we all piled out. Thunder rumbled again just above us. As we walked, I realized it was probably a good thing we’d let out a block away, the streets were full of cars. There was barely enough room for one car to go down the street unopposed, much less a taxi releasing its passengers. I watched as people, dressed in black and mourning veils, approached my sister’s house.
“They’re hosting a wake,” I said thwacking myself in the forehead. “Of course they are.”
It was tradition. Even if my brother-in-law hadn’t wanted to throw a wake, my mother would have forced his hand. Not that the neighbors would have let him get away without one. The women in the area would have formed an unbreakable flood, dropping off food and all sorts of things for him. Then they would probably be trying to gauge when they could try and take her place. My hands began to shake at the thoughts.
“Hey,” Alexandar grabbed my hand, halting my march toward the house. “What’s up?”
“All they want is a show,” I gestured toward the line of people making their way into the tiny home. “Those people didn’t even know her, why do they care?”
Alexandar took my face gently in his hands and ran his thumbs over my cheeks, brushing away tears. I hadn’t even known I was crying. He closed his eyes and slowly lay his forehead against mine. One of his hands moved to the nape of my neck and our breathing mixed.
“I understand,” he said. “But you need to take a breath. You need to be strong for your nephews. We know at this point they are safe. If they weren’t there no one would be going in and out like this.”
I took a deep breath and tried to calm my frayed patience. His eyes opened and I stared into them. I thought about the boys and their lack of understanding about death. Their need for pizza. I wondered if there was pizza inside and made a mental note to order some if there wasn’t.
“Ok,” I swallowed and finished wiping my eyes. “I can do this.”
“Good,” he lifted his face from mine and an odd looked crossed his face. “There’s something I need to tell you before we face the Agents, if they are in fact here today.”
“What?” I prompted.
Alexandar looked back and forth between Valerie and Chauncy. They seemed to nod subtly. It made me nervous.
“What don’t I know?” I asked.
I watched him open his mouth to answer but a screech cut him off.
“How DARE YOU?” A woman screamed as she came trudging down the sidewalk.
My mother. I watched with a detached sense of awe as she stomped toward me. How had I ever feared this woman? Her face was beet red with anger. What could she do to me that hadn’t already been done at this point?
“How dare I what, mother?” I asked, suddenly exhausted.
“How dare you show your face around here after what you did?” She continued her stomping until she was right in my face. Her short stature had her up on her toes trying to get closer to intimidate me. Normally I would have shrank away but this time I didn’t. I studied her curiously as she gestured emphatically with her words. Feeling like I was really seeing her for the first time.
“What did I do?” I asked.
“You made us pay for your sister’s funeral by ourselves,” she huffed. “You know your father and I can’t afford that. We had to make some cuts and put a budget on her memorial. We couldn’t even get a caterer for this poor excuse of a wake.”
“She didn’t want an over the top funeral, mother,” I sighed.
“That’s beside the point,” her face turned a deeper red. “You had no right to disappear and take all your fancy money with you. How do you think your brother-in-law felt? Though maybe it was a good thing that you left. I know you’ve having sex with him. How long had that been going on? Did you even wait until she died to start that?”
My face must have registered some sort of reaction that she interpreted as shame, because she smiled deeply as my mouth just dropped open. What I was feeling had nothing to do with shame but a deep sense of disappointment and pity. This woman, whom I called mother, was deliberately trying to ostracize her only living daughter. I shook my head. I was tired of her awful attitude and cruelty.
“Didn’t think I knew about that did you?” She crowed triumphantly. “Well your little display at the hospital was enough for me to understand where your loyalties lie, which is nowhere.”
“Mother, this is neither the time nor the place for your wild accusations,” I looked around and saw that a small crowd had formed at the front of the house. Curtains in the houses around us rustled.
“You afraid your new boyfriend will find out about your indiscretions?” She sniffed as she looked Alexandar up and down.
“I will never know what people see in you,” she said.
“Enough!” Startled, I looked around before I realized that had come from me.
My mother seemed shocked as well but recovered quickly. I cut her off before she could say anything.
“You do not get to talk to me that way,” I told her. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the small crowd parting. “You do not demand money and then attempt to disparage my character.”
Alexandar, Valerie and Chauncy moved next to me. A silent wall of support.
“You don’t even know me,” I spat.
“I know you,” her eyes went to slits. “I know you were dropped on my doorstep in an ugly little basket. Ugly basket for an ugly baby.”
The words that were about to spill from my mouth dried at the source.
“Didn’t know that did you?” She smiled again. “Of course not. Because for all your education, you’re still stupid.”
“I...” The blood drained from my face as she chuckled.
“Evelyn,” a soft voice came from behind my mother.
She turned and instantly went rigid. Then she seemed to collapse in on herself and began sobbing. My father, or the man I thought was my father, stood there.
“Oh, Thomas,” she walked the couple feet between them quickly. “I’m sorry, I know we agreed to never tell her. She just pushes me, you know how she pushes me.”
“I’ll be taking her home now,” he looked up from the sobbing woman who was currently soaking his shirt. “I apologize for any extra grief she caused you today. This is for you.”
This was the most I felt I’d ever seen him speak. I was in awe. I’d almost forgotten what his voice sounded like when it wasn’t thick and slurred. I took the envelope he offered without hesitation and stuffed it into my pocket.
He smiled at me through watery eyes and turned with his wife. I had always thought this man was my father, was it possible he wasn’t? Together they walked up the street and disappeared.
The small crowd waiting by my sister’s house began to disperse. I took a deep breath and my friends smiled at me encouragingly.
“Are you ready for this?” Alexandar asked. Still holding my hand he ran his thumb over the back.
“It can’t be as bad as this was,” I huffed o
ut a broken laugh.
Turning hand in hand with Alexandar, we moved toward the house.
“Who are my parents?” I wondered as we walked into the front yard.
“That’s a question we will attempt to answer after we ensure the safety of your family,” Alexandar squeezed my hand.
I had a hard time forming thoughts. My entire world had just been turned upside down. We walked into an open room of hushed conversations, some of which halted at my appearance. I could only surmise that they were probably talking about me and what had just happened outside. The downstairs of the house was an open circle: to the left was the sunken living room, to the right was the sitting room. I walked to the left and through the living room, into the kitchen. The pocket door was open so that I could see the dining room table full of food. It was at the little breakfast nook where I found the three of them. Twin cries of joy escaped the boys, who wiggled out from behind the table and through the crowd of people.
I let go of Alexandar’s hand to crouch down and intercept them.
“You came! You came!” Thomas yelled. He’d been named after the man I’d called father.
“Auntie Tabbie! Auntie Tabbie!” Tad threw himself into my arms while Thomas squeezed my neck.
“I’m sorry I’m late boys,” their tears wet my shirt and neck.
“It’s ok,” Thomas whispered in my ear. “Because you’re not dead.”
“We were scared that you went to sleep and didn’t wake up like mommy,” Tad said a bit louder than Thomas had.
“Oh, Tabbie,” Jon walked
