Chapter 49
Henry
The loud buzz of the museum’s antique doorbell has me racing down the stairs two at a time.
The last forty-eight hours have been hectic and exhausting.
Between taking care of Olly, finishing the museum for the launch party on Friday night, and turning in the final papers for my two classes, I’ve been overwhelmed.
But most of all, I’ve been worried about Venus.
Texting with Ivy has brought some comfort—Dr. Blake has returned, Ivy’s been staying at the fairy house for extra support, and despite what she said, Venus hasn’t accepted the New Zealand position yet.
Last night, Venus finally texted to ask how Olly was doing. She didn’t communicate long, but she texted that she loved us both before saying goodnight.
So, I hoped it might be her at the door, overrun with big feelings and desperate to see us.
But it’s Mom. She applies a weak smile when I appear in the foyer, looking nervous but determined.
It’s a surprise to see her here. It’s the first time she’s been to the museum since Jay died.
I’ve invited her several times—when I wanted her advice regarding my inheritance, when Fred and I hoped she’d help sort his things, and when Olly and I moved into the apartment upstairs.
But every time I asked, she’d grow anxious and, even if she wanted to help, she’d finally be forced to admit that she couldn’t.
She got as far as the parking lot once before panic took over.
This is where Jay lived, where his dreams never quite reached his expectations, and where he left us.
She feels responsible for the brother she couldn’t save.
I push the glass door open, unsure what to do. “Mom, you’re here.”
She takes a deep breath, seeming to force her nerves to retreat. “No choice. I need to see you.”
“Look, Olly’ll be up soon. I have a lot to do. Why are you here?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.
“You were right,” she says firmly. “I owe you an apology that’s… been a long time coming.”
“It’s Venus you should be apologizing to,” I say, folding my arms over my chest.
“Yes, and I will… but I need to talk to you first. Please.”
Anguish brims in her brown eyes, and her hands tighten around each other, like she fears I’ll turn her away.
“Fine, but I need to be close to Olly. You’ll have to come inside, up to the apartment,” I say, assuming she’ll refuse.
But she nods and moves into the foyer as I step aside. She glances around the room, surely taking in the changes. It must look like an entirely new place to her. She doesn’t comment, though, as if limiting herself to only what she came here to do.
Until she sees the wooden bluejay on the counter. I try remembering the last place I saw it, but give up caring when a warm smile cuts through her anxiety.
She takes it in her hands and says, “Jay used to toss it my way whenever I felt anxious. ‘Hold on to Jaybird. He’s lucky.’ It seemed so silly, but it helped.”
“Hold onto him now if you want.”
She nods appreciatively. “Lead the way.”
Upstairs, I peek in on Olly, relieved to find him still asleep. I’ve kept him home from camp since the accident. Perhaps I’m overcautious, but his aches and the pain meds have taken a lot out of him. I didn’t want to push him.
I return to the kitchen to find Mom pouring herself a cup of coffee from the pot I made earlier. Over her first sip, she motions to the cluttered mess scattered over my kitchen table. “What’s all this?”
Shifting the papers so she can sit down, I say, “Research. A list of all flights to New Zealand over the next six months, info on expediting Olly’s passport, rentals near Venus’s new job, how my health insurance works overseas, school calendars, Carly’s calendar…
I’ve spoken to her about taking some long trips with Olly, and she thinks it’d be great for his education.
She may even come with us sometimes. Venus prefers facts, so I plan to present her with as many as I can, to show her that we can make this work. ”
Mom squeezes the bluejay in her fist as she sits down. “I’m sorry for the damage I’ve done, Henry. I don’t know if it’s possible to repair it. But I promise, I’ll try.”
“She overheard you that night in the hospital, telling Dr. Blake that all she ever does is hurt me. You let a scared eighteen-year-old girl who nearly lost her best friend believe that she was a burden, unworthy of us, and then you made her feel that way all over again on Sunday. I don’t think there’s any coming back from that. ”
Her fingers shift over her mug, and tears spill from her eyes. “I have no excuse… only an explanation. If you’ll hear it.”
I stand opposite her, folding my arms over my chest, unsure if I want to. Her only saving grace right now is that she showed up here, the one place I feared she’d never come again, in the hopes of a reconciliation. That tells me she’s trying. So, I nod, allowing her to continue.
“Venus did for you what I couldn’t,” she says, her voice strained.
“She protected you from bullies at school. She protected you from Dale. She even helped you with your asthma, in the long term anyway. The truth is… if it weren’t for Venus, I may not have had the courage to leave Dale.
And I loved her for all of it. I loved her, Henry.
Still do… But I resented her, too. At eight years old, Venus Blake bumbled into our lives, held up a mirror, and showed me exactly where I’d gone wrong…
and I couldn’t stand it. So, whenever she got you in trouble or got you sick, I latched on to the problems until they became all I could see—that’s what my therapist says. ”
“The negativity bias,” I breathe out, remembering Venus’s words.
“Yeah, and that first night in the hospital, after nearly losing you, I-I stopped seeing her as the child I loved, but the villain who hurt you, and… I suppose, in a way, it turned me into a villain, too. I am desperately sorry, Henry. So sorry that even if you send me away and stay angry at me forever, I will never stop trying to fix it.”
She takes a breath, swiping at tears that have created black smudges under her mascara. I hand her a tissue from the box nearby, and she smiles lightly.
“Grandma? Why’re you crying?” Olly says from the hallway leading to our bedrooms. He holds Mango in his cast hand while he rubs his eyes with the other.
She chuckles through her distress. “Olly, I’m just sad because I miss Venus. I, um, haven’t talked to her since the hospital, and I hope she’s okay.”
He wobbles over to her, edging into her lap. “Me, too.”
“Here, I brought you something.” She sets down the wooden bluejay to pull something out of her purse. It’s a framed picture of Venus and me from our senior year, when things were good between us. I’m laughing, and she’s giving me a coy grin, like I’ve just said something funny.
Olly giggles over it. “They look different.”
“They were younger,” Mom says. “I thought you might hang it up with all of your superhero posters.”
“Oh, cool.” He hops off Mom’s lap, flies Mango around the room, and carries the frame to his bedroom.
“He’s feeling better,” she quips before her eyes find mine again. “Tell me, Henry. What can I do?”
What-ifs swarm me with her question. What if Mom hadn’t said those words to Dr. Blake? What if she’d been a mom to Venus all the time, even when she was upset? Would Venus have stayed then? Now?
I also remember how hard it must’ve been for Mom—Dale bullied her, too—and she was constantly on high alert over worries about me.
She was a single parent, even when she was married to Dale, the primary source of our family’s income, and was constantly summoned by school nurses or administrators over me… and Venus.
Olly is blissfully low-maintenance by comparison.
I refuse to make the same mistake with Mom that I did with Venus the first time she left—assigning blame and holding on to anger. Venus wouldn’t want that, regardless.
“Um, I don’t know what to do. She’s still here.
Dr. Blake and Ivy are with her. But she doesn’t want to see me.
I made her promise not to leave without saying goodbye, but I don’t know…
she’s distancing herself, making it easier for her to leave when the time comes.
She’s trying to protect us. She believes leaving is the best thing she can do for us.
How can I convince her she’s wrong when she’s believed it for so long?
” I shift in my chair, feeling uneasy just talking about it.
I smirk sheepishly. “After prom, I’m tapped out on big, romantic gestures. ”
Mom’s brow cinches in the middle. “Venus doesn’t need romance, and if anyone needs to give her a grand gesture, it should be me. I’ll speak to her.”
“I don’t think that’s a good—”
“Henry, trust me. I’m the one who’s messed up. I should be the one to fix it. Besides, I can’t make it any worse, right?”
“That doesn’t fill me with overwhelming confidence, Mom.”
She stands, slinging her purse onto her shoulder and gathering my messy papers into one stack.
“There are a few things I need to take to her, so I’ll deliver your research as well.
” She holds up one of the leftover invitations that Marnie made for the museum’s launch party that must’ve gotten mixed in.
“I’ll deliver this, too. She must respond to an invitation. Right?”
I smile. “Well, that would be customary.”