Are these things planned somehow? Years later.
In this part of the story, things have moved on some years, Alex has moved away from the family home, got married, only for his wife to leave him for another. Sarah got engaged, soon after Alex's move, but that didn't work out, their father ran off with his secretary! It just shows that life throws up challenges every day, you never know what might happen.
Thanks again to OntarioBob for his editing.
*****
"We're a sad, pathetic trio," said my sister, a laugh followed her opening statement, "I mean, let's face facts here, my fiancée leaves me, a month before our bloody wedding. Your wife," she continued, pointing her glass in my direction, looking deeply at me, "runs out on you, with the local doctor no less, and then there's Dad," she said, looking at mum, "Dad surprises the fuck out of us all, runs away with a woman half his age, who'd have guessed that?"
Mum smiled, raised her glass. "Here's a toast," she said, thought about her words carefully, "to all those who've been royally dumped... by the one's they trusted and loved."
Sitting upright, I raised my glass high. "And here's to the strength, of family. The strength that will help us all get through all this shit."
*****
When my sister, Sarah, had called, many weeks earlier, telling me, she and mum, would be visiting close by for a trade show, they had thought initially, to stay in a hotel, maybe a bed and breakfast.
"Why don't you guys stay with me?" I asked her, actually, hoping she would say no at the time. My mind wasn't in the right place, after my recent marriage breakdown.
"No, no, no" Sarah said, "We don't want to impose on you. Besides, I think mum has it covered." I was secretly pleased at that answer at the time.
Their plans changed however, discovering they, well mum, couldn't find a hotel room, or Air B&B, within ten miles of the conference centre. They didn't want to commute. Sarah, called me back, a few days later, sheepishly asking if they could, after all, stay with me.
Initially, I'd had mixed feelings about their visit. Sure, it would be nice to see them, again, it had been too long, as it goes, but I wasn't sure how comfortable the three of us would be, sharing my small one-bedroom apartment, for four days! Property, around here, was much more expensive than back home. My wife, got our two bed house in the divorce, complicated legal jargon turned me off the fight, so, in the end, I had to make do with downsizing, to a one bed place, after she had bought me out, using her new beau's money no less!
So here we all were, sitting in my small living room, mum and I on the sofa, Sarah, my not so baby sister now, slouched on the easy chair across from us. We'd polished off one bottle of Chardonnay, I got up, to open another. With the rest of the family resident in the east, me in west, it was hard to get together now. I realised I hadn't seen either of them for almost a year, too long, sure we talked regularly, just not visited. Whilst busy with the wine, they discussed their plans, for the next day, I had a chance to study them, in more detail.
Mum, now late forties, but looking at her, you'd think she was ten years younger. She'd become a fitness freak, within reason, watching what she ate, spending at least two mornings a week at the health club or jogging around the park. Her waist, now very trim, her legs, firm, well-toned. It was now a source of pride with her, she could now wear the same size clothes she'd worn in university.
Her hair, now dark blonde, pulled back behind her head, giving her a formal, sophisticated look. As was always the case, she dressed stylishly, a tan, fitted skirt, matching tan jacket, over a frilled white blouse. Never a believer in using much makeup, her face still showed little signs of wrinkles.
Sarah was now mid-twenties. After farming college, she'd gone back home, eventually helping in mum's business, after trying to make it elsewhere, failing miserably she told me. Being older than Sarah, I realised, since leaving, I knew little about her now. She was late teens when I'd left the area, although sharing mutual sexual experiences, most siblings didn't do I know, I left everyone happy at the time, both mum and Sarah understood what we shared, had run its course.
Like mum, Sarah's hair was blonde, a touch lighter. In height, a couple of inches shorter than mum, maybe a tiny bit heavier. Not overweight, by any means, perhaps a little wider in the waist and hips, slightly larger breasts. Looking back and forth, between them, I smiled to myself, realising, nice shaped, well-proportioned bodies, was one mutually inherited characteristic. They also smiled a lot, that gave me a warm feeling, as they talking back and forth, in tune with each other.
We'd gone out to dinner, earlier, a great little French Bistro, now, relaxing with wine, in my apartment. They'd spent some of the last few hours, getting me caught up, with what was going on with the rest of our family back East.
"I really want to apologise again for this dinky apartment," I told them, when a suitable break in their chat occurred, "but when Sallie and I split up, she got the house, as you know."
"Don't be silly darling," mum said, "we'll be perfectly comfortable here, besides, how many apartments do you know which have a fireplace like this one? Must have taken some finding?" She finished, pointing across the room.
"That's there because, I think, this place was built before central heating was invented," I said with a laugh. In reality, I really loved the apartment. Before, living in the suburbs of the city, I'd had a minimum half-hour commute. Now, I could walk to work, enjoying the buzz of life.
"Do you use it?" Sarah asked.
"The fireplace? Yeah, but it's a chore going out every morning, into the forest, sawing, chopping wood." I replied, doing my best wood choppers mime.
"Very funny," mum said, leaning over, poking me in the ribs.
"Okay, okay, if you want the truth, I buy those fake logs at the local shop." I confessed.
"Can we have a fire tonight, please Alex?" Sarah asked, "It would be like when we all used to go to that cabin by the sea, with daddy...." Her voice drifted off and she looked guiltily at mum.
"Sarah, my baby" mum sighed, continued, "don't be silly. It's perfectly alright to make references to your father. I mean, he's still your father, even if he is an asshole." She laughed, took another sip of wine.
"Well, mum," I started, "seems like you've gotten over his departure. I wish I could say the same, about Sallie and me I mean."
"It takes time," mum said, her voice serious, "It'll be a year, this week for me, it took me that long to realise life goes on without him. You need friends, family to help you through. How long's it been for you? About four months?"
I nodded my head.
"Hey," Sarah interrupted, "if you guys are going to spend all evening feeling sorry for yourselves, I'm leaving. I mean, I'm the one who's fiancée left them at the altar, well nearly, you don't see me crying in my wine."
She raised her glass.
"I propose another toast... to the survivors. The survivors of love lost."
"Here! Here!" mum said, raising her glass in return.
I went to the fireplace, picked out an artificial log. It was easy to use, even for me.
In a fake, TV announcer's voice, I said "The urban pioneer protects his women, from the dead cold of winter," I lit the paper wrapping on a log. Watching the first little flames, cascading upwards, creating a warm glow.
"Could the very rugged, urban pioneer, rustle us up some more wine, perhaps?" mum asked with a laugh.
As I busied, uncorking another bottle, Sarah stood, turned off the overhead light. The room was thrust into darkness, the flickering flame of the log, the only light.
"A fire glowing in the fireplace," she said, "How romantic."
"Hah! Romance. Who needs it," mum exclaimed, a frown on her forehead.
"We all do, if we're honest with ourselves," Sarah answered.
"Not when you're my age." Mum said, sarcastically.
"Come on mum," I started, moving forward, refilling everyone's glass in the process, I continued, "you're still young, attractive, and, if you don't mind me saying, you've always been the hopeless romantic, especially in this family."
"Me? Never, was I?" She looked puzzled.
I replied, "How about when dad and you, dragged us along to that awful restaurant, it was like a big barn, you guys would dance and dance, we'd fall asleep at the table, you'd have to carry us home, sound asleep."
"I'm surprised you remember that," mum said, actually smiling at the memory, " that was a whole lifetime ago."
"And sometimes," I continued, "dad would pull me up from my chair, hand me to you, make me dance with you. I would protest, when on the dance floor, with all those grownups about, I was always a little embarrassed."
"You were probably only thirteen, maybe fourteen then," mum said.
I looked at her face, glowing in the flickering light from the fireplace. I thought I saw a little tear, in the corner of her eye. With the back of my fore finger, I wiped it away, leaning forward, kissed her lightly on the cheek.
"Hey, there's a rule here, in my house," I said, trying to brighten the mood, "no melancholy feelings allowed. Only happy feelings."
Mum smiled, returned my kiss.
"You're right," she said, "I'm ready to feel happy now."
"Music!" Sarah blurted out, taking another gulp of wine after, "We need some music, to get you two out of this maudlin mood."
I stood again, flipped through the CD's on the bookshelf, barely able to make the titles out in the faint light, coming from the fireplace. I found one, slow ballads from the forties and fifties, that would fit the mood tonight, I thought to myself, slipping the CD into the player.
As the soft music filled the room, I stood in front of mum, put my hand out. "Would you care to dance with me, madam?"
