Epilogue
LANEY
One year later…
I watched the minutes elapse into seconds before final call was announced. It was another busy Saturday night, and I wanted more than anything to wash off the grime of the day in a steaming hot shower with my girlfriend.
Neenan hoarded a couple people out the door, pinching their drink glasses from out their hands, while Kilina was banging on the bathroom doors getting the last few stragglers to hurry on their way out. I stood behind the bar watching them work.
After the Karstein takeover, Kilina and I wanted to take a step back from family business and try something new, so we opened a relaxed gay cocktail bar called Mircalla in Islington, London. Life in the city was rewarding, although I did sometimes miss the serenity of the forest. That was why the bar had a forest theme with neon pink strobe lighting and planting walls. It brought in an eclectic crowd, and I loved it.
Tonight, we were closing early. We shut on Sundays. Each week we reserved that day for family time. Usually that meant we returned to Great Tenor, or we had a playdate with little Georgia, but tomorrow was an especially important day. I was going to meet my other grandparents.
Before we left for London, Terrence gave me a letter from Grandfather, Edward. He hadn’t opened it and thought it might be a suicide note. At the time, he didn’t feel the need to keep it, but I was grateful he did, because inside was a letter addressed to me. Among other loving sentiments, he enclosed the contact information of Mother’s family that Father always forbade me from meeting.
With Kilina’s help, I finally worked up the courage to call the number listed last week. It took them a while to pick up but when they did, I could have cried. In fact, when they heard who was calling, we cried together. I told them a redacted version of my story and they agreed to meet us for Sunday lunch tomorrow.
But to be ready for that reunion, I needed a good night’s sleep and right now, my favourite pillow was marching across the bar floor ushering people to leave, the chains on her belt loops catching the light as they swung. I couldn’t wait to get her home.
Neenan came to stand across the bar from me. He pointed to the side of my mouth. “You’ve got a little something there?”
“What? Where?” I said, dabbing at my face with a napkin. “Have I got it? Is it gone?”
“Nah,” he replied, now pointing to his own face as reference, ”It’s right here. Yup, yeah, that’s it, now wipe up all that drool.”
I punched him in the arm. “That’s not funny!”
He raised his eyebrows. “I only speak the truth.” He said into a yawn, chuckling, nonetheless. “Are you nervous?”
More like shit scared. I wanted them to like me. At this point, they were my last remaining relatives, and if I screwed this up in any way, I’d be right back where I started. “Do you think they’d accept me?”
I had blood on my hands. As much as I didn’t want that to be associated with me, it was a part of me and my past. I wasn’t sure how much they knew about my father or my family, but I hoped whatever they did know wasn’t going to skew their impression of me. It’s not exactly something that I regret, but neither was it something I was proud of. Killing Father saved him from a painful death, I wanted to view that as mercy, justice even, and not malice.
“They’ll love you.” He whispered back.
Then, comforting arms wrapped around my middle and pulled me back from the bar. “Hello, baby.” I said as I turned my head to the side, pressing a quick kiss to her temple.
“You ready, princess?” She replied, looping her thumb through one of my belt loops, she tugged me toward the door before I could respond. “Goodnight, Neenan!” she yelled when we reached the door.
“Keep her safe!” I shouted in a fit of giggles as I was dragged backwards. The bar was obviously female. A drag queen in fact. Night, night, Mircalla.
He waved me off, a smile brightening his face. “Will do. Bye!”
When we hit the mean streets of London, it was still wide awake, music roaring from the surrounding bars. I pried her thumb from my trousers and interlaced our fingers together. Walking hand in hand, I revelled in the stomp of her boots and the clink of my mini heel. This was us.
We turned a corner, and a hush befell the street. Away from the ruckus, Kilina guided me up a small staircase to our penthouse apartment. The building was only three storeys high, but it might as well have been on top of the world to me. And as the door unlocked to our home, I could almost forget my previous life.
As we crawled into bed later that night, incessant questions wouldn’t quieten in my mind like how they so often did in her presence. “What if they ask me about Father?” I worried.
“He died, Laney, at your hands or his body. You don’t have to say everything at once.”
“What if I have too much of my father in me and I’m not what they expected?”
“They’ll see your mother’s eyes in you too. You’ll be loved.” That’s what Neenan said.
“How do you know that?” I said, exasperated.
“Because they’ll see what I see.”
“And what is that?”
She tucked a fallen hair behind my ear. “The most kind-hearted girl. Beaming with love.”
“Are you sure?”
Her arms tightened around me. “Promise,” she stated as if it was some universally known fact.
“Pinky promise?”
“My pinky is up.” My heart fluttered, but she just smiled as she leaned closer, mouthing promise at the same time as me before our lips touched. The kiss heated and I moved myself to be on top of her.
“I love you.” I whispered.
“I know, princess,” she said, smug.
I slapped her arm, but I was smiling.
I would never wonder again if I was alone in this world, because I never was. She was always there. I held her tighter as I fell into a peaceful sleep. Sans migraines.
I was loved.
KILINA
L aney’s grandparents welcomed her with open arms like I knew they would. Her mother was as much of a victim as she was. Lillian and Arthur saw that. They made us a delicious Sunday lunch of roasted lamb, Hasselback potatoes and asparagus, but I struggled to swallow a solid bite while the others cleaned their plates.
She squeezed my knee under the table. “Is everything alright?” Laney spoke in a low register.
I nodded but couldn’t say anything to her. Instead, I turned to Arthur. “Did you do much of the landscaping yourselves?”
It was a sunny day, so we sat in the conservatory behind their quaint cottage. Their garden was bright and green, a variety of sprigs stuck out of the earth and vines enveloped the side of the house.
“Well, yes.” Arthur smiled. “In our retirement, Lillian and I wished to create a slice of nature of our own.”
“We picked our first strawberries of the season last week!” Lillian interjected. “I hope you like Eton Mess for pudding!”
“I love Eton Mess!” Laney jumped in.
Lillian and Arthur exchanged a glance. “It was your mother’s favourite too.”
I examined the tablecloth, hoping to give them a private moment, but it just made me more anxious to the point where my knee started bouncing. Laney turned to me concerned, but I placated her by bringing her hand to my mouth, pressing a quick kiss to her fingers.
“Are you done?” Arthur stood with a couple plates in hand already.
“Yes, Sir.” I replied, and picking up Laney’s plate, I stood too. “Let me help you tidy up and get pudding ready.”
“Okay, then.” He gave me a pleasant look and I followed him toward the kitchen to place the plates next to the sink.
I hesitated a moment, trying to form the correct words in the most respectful manner. It was more of an effort than I had anticipated. The rehearsals in my head were futile in the end.
“May I–” I began but stopped. “I know we don’t know each other yet, but I wanted to ask for your blessing?” The words rushed out of me in one breath. I skipped my next one as I waited for his response.
But he didn’t say anything at all. Just pulled me into a warm embrace. He even went so far as to place a brief kiss on top of my head. The affection was a surprise, but I still didn’t have an answer.
I looked at him, expectant.
“Oh! Yes, yes!” He said, finally. It was the opposite to how my parents reacted. They were overjoyed, but it was understated. Only my brothers congratulated me with a clap on the back. “Let me get Lillian, she’d love this. Do you have a ring? Wait, let me get her first.”
“Don’t tell Laney,” I stopped him, “I want it to be a surprise.”
“Of course.” He said. “I’ll bring the bowls to the table, you wait here while I get Lillian.”
When he left, it was barely a moment before Lillian came rushing into the kitchen. “Let me see the ring!”
I pulled a little box out of my pocket. It was the same one I had accidentally sat on a little over a year before. Lillian recognised it immediately.
“Oh,” she whimpered, her eyes glazing. “It’s perfect, darling.”
She dragged a hand down my back, comforting me. It reminded me of my own grandmother, who would never see this day, but it didn’t make me sad. Our love bridged our families toward redemption. If Laney accepted my proposal, we could bury our parents' strife and create something entirely new. Something entirely ours.
In my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed Lillian taking the bowl of Eton Mess to the table, leaving me alone with my thoughts. When I returned to the table I was calm. Laney was already plating up a bowl of the sugary goodness for me.
I made the right choice.
To contrast my calm exterior, Laney’s grandparents were antsy. Only I knew why but I could sense Laney piecing together the shift in the air.
“Bon appétit.” She said, softly, all of a sudden subdued. Spoons clicking in bowls consumed the silence that had fallen on the table. Under the tablecloth, I linked my fingers with hers.
She squeezed my fingers back. Hard. When we were all done eating, she tugged on my hand and cocked her head violently to the side.
“Excuse us for a second,” I explained to her grandparents, who beamed at me in return.
In an apparent huff, Laney dragged me down the hallway and into a nicely presented bathroom. I got worried when she locked the door.
“What did you say to them in the kitchen?” she asked, her eyebrows deeply furrowed causing wrinkles across her forehead. I soothed them with the stroke of my thumb.
“Nothing bad, promise.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
I move my hand to run my fingers through the ends of her hair. “It’s a secret” I whispered into her ear, smiling. “Patience, princess.”
“Tell me.” She beamed up at me, folding her bottom lip over in the most adorable expression. I couldn’t deny her big pleading eyes. “Please.”
Without a word, I produced the box from my pocket and lifted the lid.
Tears sprang to her eyes in an instant. It was only right that the story that started in a bathroom should begin anew in one. “Will you–”
“Yes.” She flung herself at me and kissed me hard.
A faint cheering could be heard somewhere in the house, but my eyes were on one girl and one girl only wrapped around me like ivy clung to a home. She was home.
The End.