THIRTY-TWO
Elton
Icouldn’t help myself. Neive hadn’t stopped talking about Reilly finally getting her bakery, and I wanted to see it.
It was a complete coincidence that she was leaving as I pulled up at the side of the road.
I kept a respectable distance. She deserves the space she is clearly asking for.
She couldn’t even turn around and look at me.
I’ve broken her. I’ve broken us. Her red curls tumbled down her back as she walked away from me. I deserved that. I deserve to be left.
MJ is holding court outside on the terrace, I have stepped into a kind of intervention. Very similar to the one held for her. The key players are missing though.
“I’d thought you would have brought backup in for this?
” I ask her. Jeeves and Charles aren’t here.
I would have expected this to be a free-for-all on how I’m fucking up my life.
I light the fire: we will probably be out here for a while.
We spent two hours trying to convince MJ to go to rehab, and I feel the same sense of loss I felt then.
“We discussed it, but agreed I should be the one to try and sort this shit out. It’s partly my fault.” She leans forward, bracing her hands on the back of the chair opposite me.
“MJ, it’s not—”
“It is,” she cuts me off. “Not even starting with the shitshow of a tantrum I had. You’re taking my emotions as your responsibility.
You’ve spent most of your life with the heavy burden of our family’s happiness.
You’ve neglected your own feelings and needs, focused solely on how you can make my life better.
” Her rosy cheeks pop as she offers me a thankful nod.
The seagulls squawk, mirrored by the waves crashing against the cliffs reminding me that it wasn’t so long ago that a very different MJ was standing in front of me; she was pale and her hands shook so badly I had to hold them steady.
If she slips back to that place I don’t know how I’ll cope.
“I haven’t made your life better though, have I?” I say. “That’s the problem. I’ve failed you again.”
“No, I failed. My life is my responsibility. My actions have consequences and I have to face those. Neive is my child. I failed in parenting her, and now I’m fixing that.
But that’s not on you. Our parents failed us, we weren’t to blame.
It wasn’t your responsibility to fix it.
Not then and not now.” My little sister stands in front of me, shoulders back, head held high, full of determination and grit.
In a previous life, the last few weeks would have sent MJ through the floor.
She sits next to me, taking my hand and softening her tone. “Stop taking on the responsibilities of other people’s lives. You have to allow people to make their own choices and accept that we don’t need you to make assumptions on our needs and wishes.”
“Jesus, MJ. Therapy is going well, is it?” I laugh.
“Extremely, I like this one. He gives me shit about all the crap I’ve done.” She pats my knee, her grin lighting her face. A far cry from the lost girl I dropped off at rehab six months ago. “So, I’m learning to fix my mistakes. Are you going to fix yours?”
I lean back and close my eyes. I’ve hurt Reilly again, she won’t forgive me.
“Don’t be lonely and bitter, Elton. You’ve made too much of yourself to live in self-hatred.”
“I don’t know how to fix this, MJ.” I turn my head towards her, pleading with my eyes for her to give me the answers.
“If she loves you, she’ll find a way to forgive you.”
“Maybe she can’t. Maybe she shouldn’t.”
“You’re doing it again, Elton. Assuming what Reilly needs and wants.
” MJ leans her head on my shoulder. “You are miserable without her. She is everything to you. Don’t be a fool.
You’ve made some horrible mistakes. But they are only mistakes, you can move on from them.
But you won’t be able to move on from her. ”
She’s right. I can’t move on from her. My life without Reilly is pointless.
~
I go to the one person who may be able to give me an insight into how I can make this better, probably along with a number of need-to-know hurtful truths.
Reilly’s mum is home, thank god, and Reilly is at the bakery again.
I drove past earlier. I needed a fix. A glimpse of her fiery red hair and smile.
Andrea opens the door, and her joyful eyes fall as she sees me standing there.
Her eyes drop to the bunch of tulips in my hands, and her scowl deepens.
“Reilly’s not here,” she says, curt and dismissive. This isn’t going to be easy.
“I know, I’ve come to see you.” I offer her the tulips. She accepts begrudgingly but still stands her ground at the door, refusing to allow me in. “I’ve said terrible things—”
She cuts me off. “You’ve said very few things. That’s the problem.”
“Okay, I deserve that. Let me rephrase it. I’ve made a terrible error in judgement. I’ve hurt Reilly. And in the process, I have hurt myself. Not to mention my family are pretty pissed off with me. As I assume you are as well.” She nods slowly in agreement, angry eyes still burning into me.
“Andrea, I need your help. I want to talk to Reilly about this. Explain myself and give her a chance to make a proper decision as to whether she walks away or not. If she chooses to do so, I will respect that. I’ll be heartbroken, I’ll never recover, but I’ll understand her reasons.
I owe it to her to give her the option of forgiving me.
” I take a deep breath, and Andrea’s face softens.
“So please, can I come in and talk to you? You know Reilly better than anyone, and you would protect her better than anyone. So you can be her gatekeeper. Let me win you over. If you think I don’t deserve a second chance, I will walk away.
” I’m not one hundred per cent sure that’s true.
She narrows her eyes at me before stepping back and letting me through.
If I hadn’t been studying her intently, I would have missed the slight soften of her features.
I’ve never been inside before. The house is quaint, tidy but lived in.
The kitchen is small but opens out to the lounge, bits fill the shelf, nothing matches but everything has a reason for being there.
All purposely collected and kept for its sentimental value.
A far cry from the nightmare I grew up in.
A small table sits against the wall with three chairs, Chip’s bed in the corner next to it.
This is obviously the spot where Reilly, her mum and Dorothy spend most of their time.
Andrea flicks the kettle on and puts the flowers in a vase.
Only stopping to glance at the photo-filled fridge as she takes out the milk.
She hasn’t offered me tea but makes me a cup anyway.
I’m not one to normally drink the stuff but now is not the time to refuse an olive branch.
I step forward and take the cup, making a point to check out the photos on display.
Everything from Reilly as a small child taking her first steps to recent photos of her and her friends.
A photo of Reilly catches my eye; she’s in a long midnight blue ball gown with her mum beaming as she wraps her arm around her.
“Her prom,” Andrea says. “A few days before that, she had taken a train to London to try and find her father.” There’s a hardness in her voice when she talks about the man who helped create Reilly.
“She stole the emergency fund, got a train into London and hunted down his office. She rang me in tears, and I managed to coax her home. We yelled, we cried. Our relationship took a hit that day.”
“It certainly sounds like Reilly; fierce, strong-willed, and full of emotion. She would have hated that she hurt you.”
“She didn’t hurt me. I could understand why she wanted to find him. I was terrified for her. That he would hurt her, that he would shun her the way he shunned me. The day Reilly was born, I knew nothing in this world would stop me from protecting her.”
I smile at her declaration of love, despite a kernel of buried hurt that’s deep inside me.
“I’ve always wondered what that sort of love feels like.
I didn’t have that from my own parents. Me and my sister, MJ, were simply unfortunate slip-ups from drug-filled nights of sex.
It was a surprise my parents could reproduce considering the state their health was in.
” I take a second to observe Andrea, ensuring I’m not pushing too hard with my truth.
She sits quietly and listens, a mask of no emotion on her face.
“I spent my youth raising my sister and trying to hide from our horrific reality. So, I had never had that unwavering protective feeling that a parent gives a child. Until MJ had Neive. The day that girl was born, I swore to protect her. I threw everything into holding that promise and put every part of myself on the line to do that. Even recently, I denied my feelings for Reilly, thinking it was necessary. I was wrong. And I will spend the rest of my life being sorry for that. Whether Reilly forgives me or not.”
Andrea picks up my untouched cup and pops it in the sink. She has been unnervingly quiet, taking in everything I have been saying and silently making her judgement.
She stares at the picture of Reilly and herself at prom. “What’s your plan? How are you going to win her back?”
“I need her to be in the same room as me first. To talk to me. Then I’ll give her everything to show her how sorry I am and how much she means to me.”
“Don’t try to buy her heart. Anyone can buy flowers and jewellery. Show Reilly you know her. Show her you really care about her.” Her body language is still standoffish, but she is giving me the go-ahead. An opportunity I won’t waste.