Unfinished Business

by Roxanne Hensley

  “Margaret—” he started, stopping when he saw Adrian. “Oh, where’s your mother?” His cheeks turned pink. The last time they’d seen each other, Harold was in Margaret’s bathrobe. At least this time he was fully clothed.

  “I’ll go get her.”

  “I’m right here,” she said. Her eyes sparkled when she saw Harold and the flowers.

  “Margaret, I’ve been thinking.” He walked toward her, carefully balancing the bouquet in his shaky hand. “I know we probably don’t have much time left, but I can’t imagine spending another moment without you. I love you, and I’ll love you as long as I live.” His voice cracked at the end, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

  Margaret, who normally displayed little emotion, had tears pooling in her eyes too. Her complexion dewy and glowing, she beamed with excitement. “Oh, Harold,” she crooned. He handed the flowers to Adrian and let them go, wrapping both arms around Margaret’s frail body. They held each other, both of their cheeks wet with tears, getting lost in each other’s embrace. Adrian retreated to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase, leaving them to their privacy.

  She could hear them mumbling sweetly to one another and giggling like teenagers. The smacking of their kisses echoed off the thin walls as Adrian trimmed the flowers and arranged them in a crystal vase. It warmed her heart to see her mother so happy. She deserved it, and Adrian admired her courage for taking a leap with her heart. And yes, Harold was right. There wasn’t much time left for them to share, but they were determined to make the most of it. How easy they both made it look.

  Well, was it really that hard?

  With Christian, things felt just as easy, which made it even harder to believe he was giving up on them, returning to his ex. Regardless, Adrian knew she was worth betting on. Eventually, she’d find someone who would place their bets on her and not fold early.

  Her mother and Harold retreated to the bedroom, closing the door behind them. Adrian turned out all the lights and headed to bed, thankful that her room was on the opposite side of the house. If that failed, there were always earplugs.

  23

  The day started out like any ordinary day, although the events that would unfold made it a day Adrian would never forget.

  Adrian started the day painting at the beach. Painting left her with a feeling of fulfillment like nothing else had. She was finally taking the steps to create the life she’d always dreamed of, and she wished her dad was there to see her. She had a feeling he was cheering her on from somewhere in the ethers.

  That day, she would give her mother the painting she’d done of her. She couldn’t wait to give it to her, showing her how far she’d come as an artist and that it was more than a hobby. She wanted her mother to see herself as she saw her, hoping to eliminate any fear Margaret might be feeling with her time coming to an end.

  When she arrived home, no talking heads greeted her, the house eerily quiet. Her mother wasn’t in her usual chair in the living room, and the bedroom door was ajar, with darkness beyond the frame. Adrian quickly retrieved the painting from her bedroom closet, placing her supplies at the foot of the bed before heading toward her mother’s room.

  She peered in to see if her mother was awake. She lay motionless, except for the shallow rising and falling of her chest, indicating she was still breathing. Adrian heard the gentle whirring of her oxygen machine in the background. Her eyes were closed, and Adrian decided to let her rest.

  “Boo,” Margaret said with a smile. She opened her eyes and saw the painting in Adrian’s hands. “Is that for me?”

  “Yes, but I can show you later. You should rest.”

  “No need.” She struggled to sit up, and Adrian set the painting down to help. Margaret thanked her, and Adrian realized how much her mother had softened in the last few months. “Now will you show me?”

  “Before I do that, I want to share a story with you.” Adrian cleared a lump in her throat. “After my accident, I went to Heaven. A beautiful little girl greeted me and told me I couldn’t stay, as much as I wanted to. Heaven is so real, and it’s amazing.” She grabbed her mother’s bony hand. “There’s nothing but love that exists there, and to be honest, it was so hard to leave. But the little girl told me I had more to do here.” She choked up, taking a deep breath before finishing. “She told me you needed my help,” she continued, her voice shaky. “And I’m so glad I listened to her.” She brushed away tears. Her mother’s eyes were damp as she attempted to squeeze Adrian’s hand. “I know things haven’t always been easy between us, but I’ve enjoyed the last few months. I feel like I finally have my mom back.” She reluctantly let her mother’s hand go to pick up the painting. “I wanted you to have this.” She revealed the painting of her mother and the little girl holding hands together, walking in a golden field toward the bright light of Heaven.

  “You made this?” Margaret asked, and Adrian nodded. She studied the painting in awe. “It’s remarkable.”

  It was the first time Margaret had paid Adrian a true compliment on anything she’d done artistically, and it warmed her heart in a way she’d never felt before. She’d grown accustomed to never receiving acceptance on any of her choices, but to finally have it released a weight of inadequacy she’d been carrying around her whole life.

  “This is how I see you.” She held the painting in her lap. “I know she’ll be there to greet you like she did me, and you’ll experience the overwhelming waves of love from God wash over you.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Margaret furrowed her brow. “I haven’t been all that good.” Before Adrian could say anything to the contrary, she held up her hand. “I need to say something.” Margaret breathed deeply, appearing to search for the right words and courage to say what needed to be said years ago. “I never should have discouraged your artistic side. You’re very talented, and I always knew that.” Her voice cracked. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was jealous of how close you were to your father. I wanted you to take after me, and I am so sorry.” Tears streamed down ravines in her face.

  Adrian replayed her mother’s words in her mind, the validity of words she’d longed to hear sinking in. She stared in disbelief, seeing her emotions flooding her mother’s face. The need for parental approval never disappears, and her mother had validated Adrian’s talent. She felt compassion as she looked into Margaret’s regretful eyes.

  “You did the best you could.” For the first time in her life, she truly believed that. Despite her mother’s flaws, she knew deep down she meant well. And there she was, in her final moments, feeling scared and alone. Adrian wanted nothing more than to take that fear away. “There’s nothing to fear, Ma. Where you’re going is so much better than anything down here.”

  “Even Harold?” Margaret smiled weakly.

  Adrian chuckled. “Yes, even Harold doesn’t hold a candle.”

  Margaret considered her words. “I hope you’re right.”

  Adrian saw her mother struggling to breathe, but sadly, her own body was the enemy as she drowned from the inside out.

  “You have too, you know,” Margaret said.

  “What’s that?” Adrian brushed hair back from her mother’s forehead. Tiny beads of sweat pooled near her hairline.

  “Done your best,” she said. “I know I didn’t approve of Brad, and for good reason, but I’m proud of you for standing by him, even though I lost you for a little while.”

  “Really?” Adrian felt dumbfounded. Her mother had never told her she was proud of her. Why had they waited so long to be honest?

  “Yes, and I’m sorry I haven’t said anything until now. But I need you to do something for me.”

  “Anything.” Adrian wiped a tear from her chin.

  “Make up with Christian,” she said. “I want you to experience love like I had with George, and I’ve found again with Harold. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. What you two have…that doesn’t come along every day.”

  She certainly had tall orders, considering Christian’s
ex was back in the picture. “I’ll try.”

  Margaret wrapped a frail arm around her neck, pulling her into a hug. Adrian could feel her mother’s frailty as she held her in her arms, both of their bodies shaking with emotion.

  “Will you get me some water?” Margaret asked. Adrian reluctantly let her go before fulfilling her mother’s request. She’d never seen her mother so weak, so vulnerable. Adrian took a deep breath and wiped her tear-stained cheeks. She needed to be strong to help balance and ground her mother. That’s what she’d do if roles were reversed. She put on a brave face and headed back to Margaret’s room with water glass in hand.

  When she returned, the energy had shifted. The room felt empty, cold, and lifeless. Adrian feared the worst as the hair stood up on the back of her neck. Frozen in place, she gripped the glass of water so hard her hand started to cramp. “Ma?” Her throat constricted. The gentle hum of the oxygen machine was the only reply.

  Adrian approached her mother’s lifeless body. Margaret looked peaceful, staring at the painting Adrian had just given her. Adrian waited for her mother to blink but knew that wouldn’t happen. She dropped to her knees, her body convulsing as she grabbed her mother’s hand and held it to her face. She imagined the little girl reaching for that hand as they lay in the field of daffodils, naming what shapes they saw in the perfectly puffy clouds.

  Adrian gently closed her mother’s eyelids and made a cross over her chest with her hands. She looked like she was just napping, but this time, she wouldn’t wake up. Adrian was an orphan, a stray weaned too soon. She leaned down and hugged her mother’s lifeless body as she wept, her tears staining the shoulder of Margaret’s light pink nightgown. “I love you, Ma.” She kissed her forehead.

  Adrian had known this day would come, but it didn’t make the stark reality of her mother’s departure any easier. There were still so many things left unsaid, and they would forever remain so. Desperate to hear a friendly voice, she wiped the tears from her face and dialed the familiar number.

  “Finally,” Laura said when she answered. When Adrian couldn’t find the words to respond, she said, “Is this a butt dial?”

  “No,” Adrian blurted. “She’s gone.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” Her voice was full of compassion. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  Adrian tried to tell her, but nothing would come out except tears. Laura was patient while she cried. “We were talking, and I went to get her a glass of water and then…” Adrian trailed off, unable to finish, afraid finishing the sentence would make it more real and final. Could it all possibly be a dream?

  “Say no more. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  24

  The next few days were a blur. Laura arrived two days later and helped Adrian plan the service for Margaret. She was so thankful to have another body in the house. It was eerily quiet without the whirring of her mother’s oxygen machine or the incessant news blaring through the TV. She tried her best to compartmentalize her thoughts and feelings, knowing there was much to be done in her mother’s honor. But she would often stare off into space, Laura touching her hand to bring her back to the present, asking for input on various plans. Adrian would nod and go along with whatever Laura was saying, lacking the energy for anything beyond that.

  Bev and Gilda were a huge help, assisting in making arrangements. Margaret had shared her ideas with them about what kind of service she preferred. In all the time Adrian had spent with her, she’d never thought to ask. In hindsight, it seemed silly to avoid talking about the inevitable, but she was glad her mother shared her wishes with someone.

  Margaret wanted to be cremated, not buried, and wanted her ashes scattered in the Gulf. She also wished for a celebration of life instead of a traditional vigil. Given her traditional Catholic upbringing, those plans surprised Adrian. Even in death, her mother was full of surprises. Gilda told her she’d only recently changed her wishes, saying Adrian had influenced her decision. Margaret had trusted her daughter to make the right plans for the memorial, and Adrian felt honored she’d trusted her that much. Perhaps, in her own way, this was Margaret showing Adrian she loved her. It only took her dying to express it.

  They decided to hold a memorial service at the Orange Blossom Rec Center so others in the neighborhood who knew her could easily attend. Laura and Adrian looked through old photo albums to find the right images that summed up Margaret’s life, including the one Laura’s mom gave to her. Bev provided a few recent ones, including one of Margaret and Adrian from a recent poker night. Adrian stood behind her mother, Margaret resting her hand on her daughter’s forearm, both of them smiling. Seeing the light in her mother’s eyes made Adrian choke up. She’d give anything to hug her mother again. It was too soon for her to be gone.

  They set up in the back part of the main atrium, with a table filled with snacks and sandwiches for anyone who had an appetite. The high ceilings and opaque natural lighting cast the perfect glow over the somber group. Adrian didn’t have a chance to get a new dress for the occasion, but fortunately had a black maxi dress that would have to do. The turnout for her mother’s celebration surprised her. There were many faces she’d never seen before, the room buzzing with memories of Margaret. Laura’s parents were there, and Elizabeth pulled Adrian in for a wordless hug. She cradled Adrian’s head in her hand like a mother would, and Adrian didn’t want to break the connection.

  “I am so sorry, Adrian,” Elizabeth said, her eyes damp. “I really wish things had turned out differently for all of us.” Adrian could see Elizabeth’s mind reeling over not making peace with Margaret before she died.

  “Thank you.” Adrian took a deep breath, trying her best to hold it together. She needed to be strong, to make her mother proud. “I told Ma about my visit with you, and she didn’t say much, but I could tell from the look in her eye she missed you too.” Elizabeth shed a tear at her words. “I don’t mean to upset you or make you feel guilty. I just thought I’d tell you that, hoping it helps. You know my mom…a woman of few words.” Adrian forced a smile.

  Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you.” She hugged Adrian, and this time, Adrian cradled her perfect French twist in her hand.

  “Think you’re up for saying a few words?” Laura asked. Adrian nodded, and parted from Elizabeth.

  She clinked a plastic knife against a red solo cup, which didn’t do much to draw attention. Gilda whistled like she was hailing a cab in New York to bring attention to Adrian. She felt nervous with all eyes on her, waiting for something profound to come out of her mouth.

  “Thank you all so much for coming. As many of you know, Margaret was my mother.” She’s still my mother. Death doesn’t change that, right? “She was tough as nails on me growing up, and I’m sure that’s no surprise to those who knew her.” A few chuckles peppered the room. “And while we didn’t always see eye to eye, as it was always her way or no way…” Adrian trailed off. This wasn’t a time to go there, and she felt the room tense up. She looked at the photograph of her mother smiling at her as a baby. “I’ve spent the last five months taking care of my mother, and I’ve learned she’s full of surprises.” She smiled thinly at Bev and Gilda. “I’m so grateful for the time I spent with her, and if I can be just half as brave, resilient, and strong as she was, I’ll count myself lucky.” She saw lots of heads nod throughout the crowd and searched for more to say. Whatever was left would remain unsaid, as her emotions overtook her. “Thank you.”

  Laura came to Adrian’s side, looking perfect in her black shift dress. “Would anyone else like to share a few words about Margaret?” she asked the group while gently rubbing Adrian’s back.

  Many people took turns sharing stories about Margaret. Adrian couldn’t recall the detail, only the emotion behind the stories left an impression. She appreciated everyone who spoke and had no idea what an impact her mother had on the small community. Once everyone went back to idle chit chat, Adrian saw Harold across the room, standing alone by the table showcasing the photos. He
seemed completely lost without her mother, and her heart ached for him. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’d ask if you’re okay, but…I think I already know the answer.”

  He turned and hugged her, catching her off-guard. “I can’t believe she’s already gone.” His voice cracked from holding back tears. “Sorry.” He pulled away, brushing himself off.

  “Have you eaten anything?” She already knew and didn’t wait for his response. “Come on, let’s get some food.” She linked her arm in his to lead him toward the spread. After much coercing, he finally grabbed a small plate of food, which she suspected was only to appease her. Her heart hurt even more to see his breaking.

  Every time a new face walked into the room, she’d secretly hoped to see Christian. But as the crowd began to thin, she realized he wasn’t going to show. Maybe it was time for her to grieve the loss of what could have been there too.

  Bev, Gilda, Laura and Adrian cleaned up the space. The others put Adrian in charge of collecting the photographs, and she studied each one before stacking them for transport. She grabbed the guest book, vowing to read the comments later. She was too raw to face it right then.

  “Okay, I think that’s the last of it.” Laura examined the room for anything out of place. “You ready?”

  Adrian nodded. It was time to move on in many ways.

  The day after Margaret’s celebration, Laura stayed to help Adrian sort through her mother’s belongings. No one talks about all the work that comes along with a loved ones’ death. The death is just the beginning. It was a cruel joke, sifting through all the things that surrounded her mother in life, seeing the lifelessness without her touch. What would her mother want her to do with all of her treasures? If only she could ask.