Chapter Two -- Part Two/Three

What was I even supposed to say? As I stood in front of the massive group of people assembled to mourn my mother’s passing, my mind was blank; all I wanted to do was curl into a corner. So many… She’d touched so many people’s lives, and I’d abandoned her. If I’d only been there…

I’d found the reports on the internet: woman found with slit throat in home. The doors had been all locked — the windows, too — and all I could think was what if I had done something? What if I’d known?… And who would want to kill my mother in the first place?! Anger roiled under the sorrow; she’d been in her bed.

I refocused on the crowd. “Gwenyfer Langley. My mother…” I took a long breath. “This wasn’t her time.” I felt it in my bones. I gestured to everyone in front of me. “I didn’t see it when I was a kid — I was one of those rebellious types — but she was wonderful. She did everything she could to accommodate Lane and I —“ Pride flared when my voice didn’t catch on my sister’s name “— and I never knew to say thank you…” I grimaced slightly. “I guess I just took it for granted… But she will always be in my heart and all of yours because that’s just the kind of woman she was. Even if it was just a step into and out of your life, she leaves a mark for the better on everything she ever touched. In that she will live on.” And then I stepped down because I couldn’t take it anymore, and instead of taking my seat, I continued down the aisle to the doors.

Something stopped me before I stepped out into the sunlight, before I just started running down the streets of what I’d left behind three years ago. This was my mother’s funeral. I couldn’t just leave… “God, Mom, why’d you have to go die?” I whispered, biting the inside of my cheek as I attempted to swallow my tears.

“I don’t think she meant to.” I felt bile coat the back of my throat, and suddenly the tears were gone. The cure? The rage burning in my veins now. All of my anger at the unfairness of it all now had an outlet.

John wore a grin on his lips, and I glared at him. “What’re you doing here? You don’t have the right.”

He tsked at me. “Is that really the way to talk to your father?”

“As far as I’m concerned, you don’t exist.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh. “Now Rory —“

“Get the fuck out.”

He crossed his arms, then. “Hey now. Your mother and I had a relationship, Rory. I have just as much a right to be here as you.”

“No, you had an accident: me. After which, you promptly disappeared and only reappeared at times that were convenient for you!” I sucked in a breath. “No child support for her, no visits for me; God, you didn’t even try to be in my life in any kind of substance, and you were just a weight dragging her down! All you had to do was give a damn every once in a while, but you could never find one to spare. So you do not have a right to be here, John. Get. Out.”

A smirk flitted across his face. “Oh? Because you’re one who can talk, Miss I’m-going-to-disappear-because-I’m-a-child-having-a-temper-tantrum, is that right? Your mother and I had a good thing going, and you know what her biggest regret was? You. She always blamed herself —“

My hand was moving before I’d even registered what was happening. “You bastard!” I’d meant to scream it, but my voice was hoarse and I couldn’t seem to breathe right… It was then that I noticed we’d attracted a crowd. Lane stepped forward, her violet eyes concerned, and she put a hand on my shoulder. “Is everything okay?” she murmured in my ear, and I jerked away from her.

“Don’t touch me.”

Great. Those were the first words I had to tell to my sister.

She turned to John. “Is there a problem here?” she asked and crossed her arms, and John just grinned.

“Not a bit.”

“Then I must ask you to leave the premise. You’re disturbing my sister.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I was just having a peaceful conversation. You should be asking her to go.”

I heard Lane suck in a breath to reply, but I spoke first. “Fine. I’ll go.” I glanced at Lane. “Thanks for telling me.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

Xxx

Melanie’s Readings. My sister’s “psychic” shop. Mom had let her set up in the back of our little book/coffee shop, and I saw it happen. Business declined faster than I’d thought possible; most people don’t want to be caught stepping into one of “those” places. I suppose I was one of them, though not for the same reasons as everyone else… I didn’t give a damn what people thought of me; I just knew it was all garbage. I think that’s what had made me the most angry; my sister had killed my mother’s precious business — the one thing she still held onto from before she had us — on a scam.

As I looked at the defiantly glowing neon sign, I wondered if Mom had associated my judgement of Lane with judgement of her. She’d always supported Lane so thoroughly in this effort… Did she think I thought she was a bad mom? My stomach turned, and tears pricked the back of my eyes. If I could just go back…

I shook my head. That was impossible, and goddamnit, I wasn’t going to beat myself up over it. I stepped into the shop, disregarding the “Sorry, we’re closed!” sign, and I wrinkled my nose at the heavy smell of incense floating in the air. I saw the bright flash of Lane’s red hair behind the bookshelves, and I started weaving around to go towards her. Might as well get over it now.

“Hey,” I said, and I frowned. She was stocking shelves the day after our mother’s death… I knew it was just to keep busy, but didn’t she have friends? You two are a lot a like, you know, a voice in the back of my head, and I grimaced slightly; that wasn’t good in Lane’s case. I met her eyes, and I realized she was crying.

She wiped away tears and tried to give me a bright smile, a mask sliding into place. “Hey,” she replied. “How’re you doing?”

“I think the question is how are you doing.”

She laughed, but I could hear the force behind it. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.”

“What’s happening to the shop?”

Her mask faltered. “I don’t know,” she admitted. Lane didn’t have to tell me about the massive amount of debt Mom had left behind. I already knew the collectors were swimming around like sharks, and if Lane wasn’t careful, they’d take her down, too. Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare try to “help” me in this either, Rory. I’ll be just fine by myself, thank you.”

I smiled slightly. “Oh, I know better than that,” I said. I’d considered “donating” to my sister like I sometimes “donated” to various start up artists I found in Soho while I wandered after a job, but I knew Mom wouldn’t want it that way… And Lane’s pride would be far too damaged if I even came to her with the proposition. It was like saying she wasn’t good enough to take care of Mom’s legacy, which absolutely wasn’t true. She may be a con, but she’d been closer to Mom than I’d been… She had more of a right to any of this than I did, and I wasn’t about to take that from her.

“Sorry about John, by the way.”

I shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s not like it was your fault he was a shitty father.”

She shrugged, too. “Once you left, he didn’t have this massive force keeping him from Mom… And she was lonely, you know. So he started coming around more… I tried to tell her that he was just using her as usual, but…”

Her eyes watered, and I stepped forward and squeezed her shoulder. Lane had always erred on the side of politeness. “It’s fine,” I said. “He’s always been an asshole, and she deserved so much better. We knew that, and she knew that. He knew that too, I think… He’s just desperate.” And sure, maybe he did care for Mom in that twisted way of his…but that didn’t change the fact he didn’t have a spine worth a damn, and he didn’t have a right to any piece of her life.

She took a shaky breath. “I know…” She sighed. “When’s your flight?”

“Three hours from now.”

She laughed; this one sounded more genuine, though it was short. “Didn’t want to stick around, then?” I shrugged. “I know you didn’t want any of it, but she left this specifically to you.” When Lane turned back around, she offered a box to me. It was a pretty decently sized box, but it didn’t look very heavy.

Out of everything, I got a box. Guilt kicked me in the chest, and I couldn’t stop the tear that leaked from the corner of my eye. God, I must have been a terrible daughter.

“Can you mail it to me?…” I asked and took a step back without thinking about it. “I don’t think the plane is going to let me take that with me…and even if it did, I wouldn’t want to chance it getting lost or something.”

Lane’s eyes flickered with some emotion I couldn’t quite place. “Sure… Rory —“ but I was already out the door.