3.13: Final Goodbyes

   "I sat on the couch, staring out the window. The dusky mist of rose was covering the sky. It would all be gone too soon. Too soon for the beauty and war and anger to matter. Only the love and happiness should surround us, for that is what is left after we are all gone. That is what will matter when we're gone."
      -Final Words: A Memoir, by Tiffani Bonaparle

   "Honey," I called out. Peter was in the kitchen, placing the candles on the cake. 
   "Yes?" He answered.
   "Did you invite anyone over?"
   "What?" He peeked through the kitchen's window. "Nope."
   "Okay..." The doorbell rang again. I didn't want it to be someone desperate to force their beliefs on me or sell me a sham product of even a paparazzi dumb enough to believe I'll fall for that trick. (Again.)
    "Want me to see who it is?"
    "I can do it." I sighed, putting Parker on the floor by his toys. Maverick was turning five today and Parker was three.Whomever it was, it better be damn important to interrupt my little girl's birthday over. Not that they'd know if if they weren't...well no one. Nobody would know it. My family was Peter, Parker, Maverick, and myself, no one more.  "Come on in!" I shouted.

    "I love him with every piece of me and I always will, no doubt. It was with him that I sealed my fate, for we will be together until the last soul is knocked out. We're dying together and what is greater than that? Certainly not our mistakes or time lost, for our love and commitment is the only thing."
      -Final Words: A Memoir, by Tiffani Bonaparle

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     "We're almost to the end."
     "Yep." I nodded, tears welling up in my eyes. "We are."
     "Can you believe it?" She laughed.
     "Mom, why are you here?"
     "Finish the story. I'll tell you afterwards."
     "Are you sure?"
     "Positive. Sweetie, trust me. Don't worry."
     "Okay." Which one? Trust or not worry? I would have to relearn how to  do both when it came to my mom.

-----

     I heard them coming up the stairs, not glancing to see who it was. "Bonjour." They greeted me, waiting for a reply. I knew who was speaking. I know that voice, even after all these years. It had been a decade and finally she was back. I spun around, staring at the door.
    "M-mother?" I gasped.
    "Oui." She smiled.
    "What are you doing here?"
    "That's the first thing you ask? Haven't seen me in ten years and you want to know what I'm doing? Clearly I'm talking to you." Not a good way to start. I thought.
    "Is dad here?"
    "No, he couldn't...Antoinette is, though."
    "Antoinette?"
    "Hey." She prances up the stairs, smiling.
    "Antoinette!" I hadn't seen her since she was a germophobic perfectionist who was going to therapy for anxiety issues.
    "Gabrielle. Nice to see ya."

     "I missed you."
     "I'm glad that jerks in jail."
     "What?"
     "Oh, um...see, a couple years ago, like five and a half or something, I came to Bridgeport, and talked to your boyfriend."
     "You did what?! He tried to fudging-" I glanced at Maverick and Parker. They where both in the kitchen; hopefully they hadn't heard me, "Kill me." I whispered.
     "I know. He threatened me, too."
     "Wha- and you didn't do anything?"
     "Not true. I ran off to England to hide."
     "That doesn't count as something!"
     "Well, it should."
     "Daniel's been in jail for at least five years and will be in until death row comes for him."
     "I know. I saw awhile back, but...mom should tell you."
     "Gabrielle? The cake's ready." He walked out of the kitchen, followed by my two children. "Who's-"
     "Peter. This is my mom and sister. Tiffani and Antoinette. Guys, this is Peter. My husband. And Maverick, my daughter, and Parker, my son. We where celebrating Maverick's birthday."
     "I have grandchildren?!"
     "Uhhh, mom." Antoinette glanced at her.
     "I know, sweetie but..."
     "What? But what?"
     "I...later, okay?"
     "Fine." She sighed, clearly upset but trying to look like she wasn't.

     "You're welcome to stay." I said, to no one in particular. "She's about to blow out the candles."
     "Oui, oui!" My mother clapped, excitedly.  "Joyeux anniversaire! Joyeux anniversaire ma chérie, heureux, joyeux anniversaire!" She began singing in French. 
     "Happy birthday! Happy birthday my darling, happy, happy birthday!" I translated for the three people in the room who didn't speak French and didn't plan on learning it.

        After Maverick had blown out her candles, we began talking. I had missed so much of their lives in ten years and they had missed so much of mine.
       "So, um. You're Gabrielle's mother?"
       "Oui."
       "Mom, he doesn't speak French. I barely speak it."
       "I'll speak English." She looked at me like it was some big trouble for her to complete the simple task.
       "Thank you. I like it much better when you aren't trying to intimidate my husband."
       "When did you two get married?"
       "Four years ago, ma'am." Peter answered.
       "Please, call me Mrs. Bonaparle."
       "Mother!"
       "Is what I would say if you weren't family. Please, call me Tiffani."
       "So, uh, Tiffani. What brings you back to Bridgeport?"
       "Back?"
       "Gabrielle told me that you moved to England."

       "Why yes, we did. A few years ago, after Antoinette  was fine on her own, Francois and I moved to France, his homeland. Antoinette traveled around with her, well absolute darling. Really, Gabrielle, you she meet her. She's the sweetest thing."
       "Her?!" Peter and I asked in unison.
      "You two aren't discriminatory, are you?"
      "Of course not." Peter answered, blushing. "Just surprised."
      "Me, too."  I agreed.
      "Her name is Nikia and I really should let Antoinette tell you."
      "Nikia is wonderful!" Antoinette appeared out of nowhere, holding Parker. "we got married in England, since the law allows it. And we adopted Addion, oh she's so cute, about eight months ago. She's twenty-four months. We're moving back to New York, the States, since that's where Nikia and I both grew up. We're looking for a home."
      "Congratulations." I glanced at Peter.
      "Thank you. I'm so thrilled! You can meet them, tomorrow. I figured since this was a big family, been ten years thing they probably shouldn't come."
      "It would have been fine. Just...shocking."
      "Gabrielle, tell me how did you and Peter meet?"
      "We where at a club-" Peter began.
      "Gabrielle, start at the beginning. Why where you at the club?"

      "Okay." I sat down at the couch, next to her."Well, I have children."
     "What? How could this happen?!" My mother looked panicked.
    "Biology. I really hope I don't have to explain it any further than that."
    "But-that-it's impo-no. You're lying."
    "Quit the in denial act mom. I'm not your stupid innocent little girl anymore. I haven't been for a long time."
     "You-you-no. How?"
     "Mom. Dad's a doctor. It's simple. Do I really have to-" I looked at her face. She was shocked. That was clear as day. This on top of what she was going through with me. Clearly I needed to spell everything out for her.
     "You didn't really, you know, it. Did you?"
     "Yeah, I fudgin' did." I sighed. "S-E-X. I had sex. No one called that it since middle school. Happy?"
      "How? What about everything else?"
      "I was still in high school…when it began. Not the sex…just. Everything." I sighed. I wasn't eager to walk down memory lane. "Everything…there was guys and I got upset, then the fame and singing…and him. It was insane. I graduated, barely, and…high school. It started the mess."
     "Sweetie…" She whispered.
     "The talent show. The first one I preformed at." I stared at my feet, then launched into my story.  I told her everything, the club, Jason, Daniel, Peter. The attempted murder, the secrets. High school and therapy and talk shows and award shows and prizes and being a celebrity. I was a three star celebrity; a Headliner singer. "And that," I finished, "Is everything. Why are you here? Where's dad?"
     "We where moving to Paris. We explored some ruins, archeological wonder, really. There was three other tourists. Francois and I where on a guided tour; we hadn't been to France in a while and where being accustomed with their culture; forgetting the English one."
     "What happened?"
     "Your father and I...the tourists, we breathed in some dust. we picked up a rare lung disease that Francois happened to discover, after we both received it."
     "Is there a cure?"
     "Cure...?" She took a deep breath. "No, there's not. It isn't contagious, but there's no cure."
     "Will you be alright?"
     "Non." She shook her head. "No."
     "Mom-wha-you have to be."
     "Honey, I'm dying. Your father is weakening; he can barely walk. We came back to New York to see you. We're leaving you half and your sister half. I love you, but...I'm not going to live another week."
     "You have too!" I bolted up, crying.
     "Honey." She hugged me. "I'm sorry."

     "I love you, mommy."
     "I love you too, Gabrielle."
     "Can I see dad?"
     "No...I'm sorry, his state...he won't let anyone. He loves you, he really does. It-just...he's too far gone. He's barely here."
     "Mom." I shook my head.
     "Can I see Mavie? I bet she wants to see her grandma."
      "Maverick. Her name is Maverick."
      "Gabrielle, I-"
      "I need to go talk to Peter." I turned away. How could she prance back years later? How could she? She talks to the kids then they never see her again? How can I explain that?

-Tiff's POV-

    "Hello." I smiled at Maverick.
    "Who are you?" She glared at me.
    "Your grandmother."
    "Nuh-uh." She stuck her tongue out. "I don't have one."
    "Yes you do." I smiled. "See, everyone has a grandmother."
    "I asked Mommy, cause the kids in Kindergarten all had one for Gingerbread with Grandma during the holidays. 'Cept, I didn't. So I asked her and I don't have one. She's away."
     "A grandmother is you're mommy or daddy's mommy. I'm your mommy's mommy."
     "My mommy has a mommy?" Her eyes got real wide.
     "Everyone has a mother."
     "Well I know that... but my mom's an adult!"
     "Do you think I'm your grandmother now?"
     "I guess so. But I'm not suppose to talk to strangers...it's my birthday."
     "Wow. Hold old are you?"

     "Five. I can count to fifty-three."
     "Good job." I smiled, giving her a thumbs up.
     "I gotta go to bed. See you...grandma?"

     "Oh, Parker." I picked him up. He had...his hair. He had my mother's hair. I smiled. He reminded me so much of her; his appearances where nearly replicated. His nose and hair and chin...she was gone and soon I would be. "I love you, Parker. You won't remember me, but I always will." I had said my goodbyes. I was ready to leave. I gently placed Parker in his high chair and quietly left. It was best that way.