"I'm just coming home." She laughed. "What's up?"
"Well..." Rosie began. "Your mother and I had an idea, so while she was at work some decorating was done. She took off early, to be able to be here to see you right as you got home."
"That's so nice." She exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face.
"We thought we'd do something special for your birthday today!" Basil, our thirteen year old eight grader; she was going to be a freshman next year, was turning fourteen! I couldn't believe that time had flown by so quickly...
"A deep fryer? And ice cream maker!" Basil looked around the kitchen, her eyes filled with surprise and excitement. "Thank you mum, thank you mother." She reached her arms around me, pulling me into a hug.
"Thank you mum." She said, pulling away from me.
"I'm hungry." Wren complained, clutching her stomach. "School food isn't good."
"Honey, you should have asked me to make you lunch. I make Harbor's." Rosie said, as Harbor stared off into space, licking his ice cream cone.
"Nah. I mean, I'm okay. Thanks."
"Basil, why don't you take a peek of the dining room? Wren, Harbor, you could go with her." I said, as they dashed away to the formal dining room, no doubt wanting to know what was in there.
"Look... I just."
"What is it? We can talk to each other. You know that. I can tell something's been bothering you for awhile."
"I just... deep fryer." I said, ignoring her question. It was true I'd just found out about the deep fryer a few minutes ago, but it was annoying me.
"That can't be it. This has been going on for a bit. A week or two. I didn't buy the fryer until today. Didn't even think about buying it until today."
"Ice cream maker."
"Hon, the same goes for it."
"They're unhealthy They could cause health problems. You know that, right? You know it?"
"I know they're bad for you, but in limitation and only on special occasions, they're okay."
"Unhealthy." I said, crossing my arms.
"Don't talk like a little kid Hazel. We're adults. Tell me what's wrong."
"Okay. I am your wife, though. If you're no okay, need to know. I need to help."
"Why are you handcuffing me to the subject?"
"Oh, Hazel." She looked at me, a lustful glow in her eyes. "It's been a long time... what? Three weeks? I'd say twenty or more days. We're synced to each other; I know Aunt Flow isn't the one stopping us. We haven't used handcuffs, or even done it, in awhile..."
"No reason for it, I guess." That wasn't true. There was a reason, a perfectly good one. Rosie and I had a very active bedroom life and it was in a little rut right now, due to certain issues. "Let's go to the dining room. Shouldn't keep the birthday girl waiting."
"When you're ready, tell me. Please. Don't go through it, whatever it is, alone." She stared into my eyes, confusion and hope and lust and love and mixed together to form an emotion I couldn't name. We casually walked into the dining room, trying to act like a commotion hadn't happened within the kitchen's walls; a mere few steps from our children.
"Are you ready to eat your cake and blow out the candles?" I asked, as Rosie lit them.
"Happy, happy, happy birthday to Basil." We began singing as she began thinking. "Happy, happy, happy, happy. Today is very happy. Do you know why it's happy? Because it's Basil's birthday. Happy, Happy happy, oh a very happy birthday to Basil." We all sang, slightly off pitch.
"This is... good." Harbor said.
"Yeah, what is it, strawberry and vanilla cake with a custard on top?" Wren asked, eying a forkful of the yellow, pink, and white mush.
"Yes it is. Baked by your mother." Rosie beamed, taking another bite of cake."It's delicious."
"Thank you, all. I'm glad you like it."
"Basil, do you want to test out your camera?" Rosie asked.
"It would be nice... there's the dog show today."
"Why don't go?"
"Alright. Thanks." She smiled. "Wren, Harbor, wanna come along? Please. it's my birthday."
"Why... okay."
"Sure." Wren shrugged. "Dogs are cute."
"Perfect!" She slid out of her chair, grabbed her camera, and soon the three bubbling, bouncy big bundles of joy had disappeared, off to go watch a dog show.
"Rosie, what's going on?"
"Let's go down to the basement... I want to give you something." She stood up, walking towards the stairs, as I followed suit.
"Thank you." She said, embracing me. "I was hoping you'd like it.
"I want you to talk."
"I was hoping we'd be doing something different..." I kissed her, as she kissed me back. I felt her hand sliding to the portion of my back the dress didn't cover.
"We have to talk. I know something's bothering you."
"Screaming gout your name is talking... the children are gone. I have some new... toys to try out. It would be fun." I began kissing her neck, hoping we could avoid talking. She was right; it had been awhile since we did the deed. Maybe we needed to.
"Hazel." She moaned, as she pushed me away. "Sit."
"Sorry... I'm just horny." I muttered, taking a seat.
"It isn't that." She walked towards the back room, where her wine collection and wine making machinery were stored. She came back with a bottle that gleamed beneath the light. "Here." She gestured for me to take glass, as she filled the others up. She took a seat as well, picking up a glass.
"What's wrong?" She prompted once more.
"Want me to tell you?"
"Yes, I do. I want you to tell me because I care."
"I know you do. It's difficult to talk, though. You know how it can be."
"Please tell me." She asked, placing her full glass onto the tabletop. She hadn't drank any wine; only I had.
"I... it happened thirty-five years ago, two days ago."
"It-it-t..." I took a deep breath, as a tear slid down my face. "She..."
"She?" Rosie asked. "Thirty-fi-no. It couldn't... that long? Hazel, I am so sorry." She knew. "You're mother."
"Uh-huh." I nodded. "Thirty-five years ago she died."
"What do you want to do? To remember her?"
"I don't know. I don't know."
"Here." She stood up, trying to comfort me. "Here, let's go."
"Where Rosie? What place could possibly be used to celebrate her life and remember her death? I almost lived twice as long as her... I mean, look at me. I'm forty years old and wearing a culturally offensive dress that has large pieces cut out of it."
"Her grave." She whispered, leading me up the stairs, to the car. My mother died thirty-five years ago. Thirty-five years ago. My father... he was bad. Horrible. And our children didn't get to meet either of them. My mother, who accidentally got pregnant with me. My mother, who was young. My mother, who lied about being married to my father, to help him run for mayor. My mother, who was wonderful. My mother, who watched Marco and I play together as toddlers. My mother, who I could hardly remember. The sites passed by, as the sun sunk away, as the moon rose, replacing it. We finally arrived at the site, the graveyard, as I dried my last tear. More would come, though I knew more would.
We unbuckled our seat belts, climbed out of the car, and slowly walked towards her grave. She was buried between my grandparents. My father was who knows where. I hadn't buried him. I hadn't attended his funeral. I had been consumed with anger that I had since let go of.
"Mother." I said, bawling my eyes out. She was here, beneath me. "I'm here. I'm sorry." I stared at her grave, wishing she was next to me instead. "I know I haven't visited often enough. I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry." I kept repeating the five letter, two syllable word. Sorry.
"Rosie, she was just here, she's giving us some privacy... isn't that sweet of her? She knows I have things to say to you. I love you. I'm sorry that you didn't meet someone who was better then daddy. I don't know the full story; he never told me... I feel bad, though. I don't know, mom. I don't know.
I suppose you don't know either. I don't know what to believe. Where are you? I know you're right here, your body, but... I don't know. Rosie, I was talking about her, got a little off topic, I love her, too. I married her mom. She's my wife. You have a daughter-in-law. Daddy got mad when I told him I loved girls. I don't think you will. I think you're smiling.
We have children. Three children. Two girls, one boy. Basil, she's the oldest, she just turned fourteen, in blonde. I don't know where she gets it from. The donor, maybe? Wren, she raven headed, like you and me. You're pretty. Were pretty. I saw pictures... you were so young. Harbor, he's a little absent minded, but so sweet. He has black hair, too. He's nice. I think he would have gotten along with his grandma well. You're a mother-in-law and a grandmother. That's a lot to take in, I know.
I love you. I know Rosie, even though she's never met you, thinks you're wonderful. I wish you got to meet her and the children. I wish you were here. I wish... I wish for a lot of things. I wish and wish and wish for you, but wishes can't change time. If they could, you'd be next to me and I'd be next to you. I need to go. The kids are probably getting ready for bed and I have to tuck them in. We do that every night. I think you might have... I don't remember. Good night." I turned away, taking a deep breath. I had seen my mother for the first time in forever.
Aww poor Hazel, at least she finally got to talk to her mom. Life gets in the way of things sometimes, and you forget the little things that are important. :(
ReplyDeleteLife did get busy for her and she, unfortunately, was so caught up in it she didn't get to do the little things like talks a minute and telling her mom about everything.
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