Coming Home: Sequel to The Truth About Life

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Olivia

         "Mom, the phone's for you....it's grandma.....," Audrey yells up the stairs to me.

         My mother? I think to myself. What in the world? She hasn't gone out of her way to called me in years. I hope she's ok, my heart gives a squeeze at the thought.  I quickly make my way downstairs, Audrey hands the phone over.

        "Mom," she whispers. "I need to talk to you when you're done, it's important."

        I nod, whisper, "After this phone call let's have some iced tea and scones on the back porch." My daughter nods, smiling as she starts pulling ingredients out for a batch of sweet tea.

       "Mom? How are you?" I say into the receiver. "Is everything ok?"

       "Olivia, everything is not ok, it's been dreadful, why haven't you answered my calls?" My mother sounds irritated, put out, haggard. Which are strange things for Annette Reynolds to sound like. Anything less than perfection is forbidden.

      "I'm sorry, Audrey got home from school last night and we've been busy getting her unpacked, everything organized." I smile proudly. "She did really great, Mother, really great......"

      "Yes, yes," she interrupts rudely. I roll my eyes in annoyance at her brushing me off like a fly.

      She continues, "I have some important news. Your uncle John passed away suddenly......."

      I don't hear the details, just my uncle's name sends anxiety straight to my stomach, making me hunch over. All the things he did to me, all the things he made me do, run like a movie reel in my mind. I start to shake, sliding down the refrigerator door to the floor.

       I can hear Audrey yelling my name, can feel her arms snake around me. I can hear my mother's voice, asking me, "Are you even listening to me?" I lean my head on Audrey's shoulder, close my eyes and just breath.

      "Mother, please stop." I rub my now aching forehead, damp with sweat. "Why are you even calling me about this, you know how I feel about him. What he did to me."
   
       I feel Audrey stiffen next to me, now that she understands whose being discussed.

      "Oh Olivia, get over yourself, this isn't about you. Aunt Deana expects you to be at the funeral, and so do I. You need to support your family. It's this coming Tuesday, at 11:00, the Catholic church on the corner of Sprague Avenue. Don't be late." And with that, I hear a click, then the dial tone.

       I pull the phone away, stare at it, trying to figure what in the world just happened.

       "Mom, what was that all about?" Audrey asks, offering me some water.

       I take it gratefully, drinking the whole glass, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. "That was your grandmother, informing me that my uncle John passed away, and she expects me to be there for the funeral next week." I say, flabbergasted. I start to laugh in confusion. "Why on earth would I go to support that man, with all he did to me? I mean, is my mother insane?"

       Audrey takes my hand, clasping it tightly. "Maybe, in a strange way, this has all come full circle now. Maybe," she says carefully, "you can finally, really and truly close this chapter of your life."

       How did my daughter get to be so wise? Far wiser than I. It feels right, thinking of it that way, to close a chapter. To continue fully on this new path I've forged for myself. To let go of the hold my uncle has on me sometimes still.

       I brush a wayward curl off Audrey's cheek, press our foreheads together. "How did you get to be so amazing...," I screw up my nose, "oh, wait, that's right, because you have me as a mother," I say jokingly.