Reunion by Kihin Ranno

After her brother called her and told her the news, Liz sat around for hours, wracked with indecision.  Finally, her partner got tired of waiting and booked her flight for her.

“Your mother just died of cancer,” she’d said, trying to hide her disappointment that Liz had even questioned whether or not she would be attending.  “You have to go back.”           

Liz didn’t want to waste money, so didn’t protest when she was handed a plane ticket from Chicago to Victoria, Texas.  She packed up enough to stay for a week, though she didn’t know if she would stay the whole time.  She boarded the plane the next morning, arriving in southern Texas some six hours after she had left.  She was surprised to see her brother, Daniel, waiting for her inside the airport.  Liz never thought he wouldn’t come to pick her up, but she still hadn’t seen him for quite a few years.  Laying eyes on him after all this time took her aback.

“Hi, Daniel,” she said, tightening her grip on the handle of her suitcase.

He smiled at her, his mouth twitching as if trying to decide how happy he should be to see her considering the occasion.  “Hello, Mary.”

Liz winced at the use of her given name.  No one called her that anymore. 

Daniel stood on his tiptoes, looking over Liz’s shoulder to see if anyone was following her.  “Are you alone?  I thought maybe your partner... umm…”  He pursed his lips together and then laughed, embarrassed.  “I’m sorry.  You know I was always terrible with--"

“Michelle,” Liz supplied.  “Her name is Michelle.  She was too busy with work.”

Daniel grinned at her, chuckling.  “That’s kind of cute, isn’t it?”

Liz blinked.  “What do you mean?”

“Mary and Michelle.  M and M,” Daniel explained, still chuckling, though it was becoming apparent to him that it wasn’t as funny as he had originally thought.  “Get it?”

Liz simply nodded and didn’t correct him.

They stood there for a few moments, an uncomfortable silence hanging between them.  Every once in awhile, one of them would nod or start to say something.  Then they would think better of it.

Finally, Liz glanced down at her wrist, thinking that she had worn a watch.  She saw that her arm was bare, but she still said, “Shouldn’t we get going?  It’s a good forty-five minute drive to your place, right?”  Her heart sank as she thought of that long, uncomfortable drive ahead of them.  She thought she might pretend to fall asleep just to spare them from attempting anymore conversation.

“Closer to thirty,” he corrected.  “Do you want a cigarette first?”

Liz tilted her head, a little taken aback.  “How did you know I smoked?”

Daniel laughed, shrugging a bit.  “Mom always wondered why you left to go to the bathroom in the middle of the homily every Sunday.  You smelled like smoke when you came back, so I just assumed.”  He shrugged again.

Liz cracked a smile, remembering how she used to steal matches from the row of memorial candles in the vestibule.  It had been the only truly rebellious thing she had done during her teenage years.  That and the Victora’s Secret magazines she’d had hidden under her bed.


“Actually, I’m trying to cut down,” Liz said, automatically reciting one of her standard jokes.  “Now I only smoke after se--"

Daniel raised an eyebrow.  “After what?”

“I’m trying to quit.”

After that exchange, they made their way to his car.  They put her one suitcase in the trunk and climbed in.  They had been driving for a few minutes when Daniel cleared his throat.  “So, is there anyone you want to get together with while you’re in town?  Just about everyone from high school is still here.”

Liz was aware of that, and that was at least part of why she didn’t want to see them.  “Anyone I want to see will probably be at the funeral.”  She leaned forward to see her reflection in the windshield and fiddled with her bangs.  “Look, don’t think you have to try and give me things to do.  I can keep myself entertained.”

Daniel frowned, but he didn’t respond to her point.  “You know, there’s a lot that we need to take care of while you’re here… She didn’t have a lot of money left after all the medical bills, so a lot of what she’ll say in the will is probably moot.  But there’s still all the stuff in the house, and--"

“Could we talk about this later?” Liz asked, speaking just a bit too loudly.  “I’m still kind of tired.”

Daniel looked at her for as long as he was able to and then nodded.  “Sure.  We’ll deal with it later.  We have the whole week, right?”

“Right,” Liz said softly.  She turned away from him and leaned her head against the car window.  Then she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep for the rest of the drive back to his home.

-----

It was another two days following the funeral before Daniel and Liz went back to their childhood home.  It wouldn’t be a pleasant experience, but it was necessary to sort through all of the things their mother had accumulated over the past sixty years of her life.  Originally, Daniel’s wife was going to accompany them, but then the babysitter had to cancel at the last minute.  This meant that the two siblings had to face the ordeal alone.

Liz immediately recognized the row of photographs in the foyer.  She saw the last family portrait they’d taken before her father died in a car accident, both hers and Daniel’s high school graduation photos, and even the picture of the family cat, Snickers.  Her mother had said that the cat ran away, but both she and Daniel knew that it had died.  There were other photographs as well, ones she didn’t recognize.  For example, there was one of Daniel’s wedding that Liz had been unable to attend.  There were also several pictures of his daughters at various milestones in their young lives.  Liz noticed that there were no recent photos of her.

“Liz?” Daniel said, pulling her out of her reverie.  He glanced down at the pictures and said, “Do you want to take any of those with you?”

She shook her head.  “No.  I was just thinking we should probably put these in storage.”

Daniel looked a little surprised and then nodded, seeing her point.  “I guess you’re right.  No sense in me having two copies of the same picture, and it’s not like you have much room to take stuff back with you.  There are probably more important things you’d like.”

Liz pulled off her coat, hanging it on the row of hooks that adorned the wall.  “We’d better get started.  Are there boxes in the garage?”

“The attic too.”

The next few hours passed in the same fashion.  Daniel and Liz would come across something significant from their childhood – an old toy or a piece of jewelry their mother had always liked to wear.  He would ask her if she wanted it, and she would decline.  Liz had never known how easy it was to have the same conversation so many times in one day.

Finally, even Daniel’s patience wore out.  “Mary, isn’t there anything in this house you want?” Daniel asked, standing up and holding his lower back.  “We’ve been at this since morning, and all you want to do with all of this stuff is put it in storage.”

Liz straightened up from her box of books in order to glance around, but she did not stand up.  “I just haven’t found anything worth taking back, that’s all.  Like you said, it’s not like I have a lot of room.

“You have room for something small,” Daniel countered.

Liz shut her eyes.  “I figured you’d want this stuff more than I would.”

“Why would I want any of it?” Daniel asked her, taking Liz off guard.  “I took everything of value to me when I moved into my own place.  There’s nothing here that I want, but I don’t understand why you can’t find anything.”

Liz cracked her jaw to try and relieve the tension in her face.  “I really don’t want to talk about this, Dan.”

“Just tell me--"

“I don’t want anything that belonged to her, Dan!” Liz snapped, unable to control her feelings any longer.  Realizing that she’d lost her temper, Liz bit her lip to keep from shouting again.  “I just want to put all of this stuff away.  I don’t want this shit, Dan, not this house or anything in it.  You can have it all or give it to charity or sell it.  Do whatever the hell you want with it.  I don’t care”

Daniel stared at her, genuinely confused by her reaction.  “But why not?”

Liz dragged a hand through her hair.  “Would you just get off my back?  I don’t need you harping on this issue when I didn’t even want to come to this… fucking funeral in the first place.”

He continued looking at her, completely silent.  She could tell that this news had surprised him.  The possibility had obviously never occurred to him.  “You didn’t want to come?” Daniel asked.  “I don’t believe that, Mary.  I mean, I know you and Mom had problems, but--"

“We didn’t just have problems, Dan,” Liz interrupted.  “She threw me out of her house when I told her that I was a lesbian.  She said the most awful things…” Liz trailed off, unwilling to repeat them just to make a point.

Daniel looked at her sympathetically, swallowing.  “You know she didn’t mean it.”

Liz shook her head.  “It wasn’t that she was surprised; she was appalled.  She never wanted one of her children to be gay, and when she found out that I was, she snapped.”  Liz looked down, clenching her jaw.  “I’m not sure Mom ever forgave me.”

“Of course she--" Daniel stopped himself, seeing how her shoulders tensed.  He quickly switched tactics.  “She loved you, Mary.  You have to know that.”

“I don’t think she hated me,” Liz conceded.  “I knew that she spent the rest of her life trying to make it up to me.”  She paused, reminiscing for a moment.  “She used to visit me and Michelle sometimes.  Before she got sick.”

Daniel narrowed his eyes.  “You know all of that, but you’re still angry with her?”

“It was never enough, Dan,” Liz said, her voice starting to crack.  “She never stopped believing that something was wrong with me.  I know it.  She might have tried to fix things, but she couldn’t do that as long as she thought that I was broken.”

Daniel shook his head, sticking to his convictions.  “You’re wrong, Mary.”

“I’m not wrong!” Liz insisted, clenching her fists.  “She didn’t hate me, but she didn’t accept me either.”

“Maybe that was asking too much of her," he suggested.

“It wasn’t,” Liz maintained.  “It wasn’t too much to ask of her.”  She swallowed, her lips trembling.  “And it wasn’t too much to ask of you either.”

Daniel closed his eyes.  “Mary.”

“Don’t,” Liz demanded, getting to her feet.  “Don’t try to convince me that I’m being too sensitive or whatever because that’s bullshit.  You know what, I’m still angry at Mom, but I can give her credit for trying.  But you?  You didn’t do anything.”

Daniel’s shoulders started to sag.  “I didn’t know what to say.”

Liz jerked like she wanted to stomp her foot like she had when they were younger.  “Neither of us has known what the fuck to say for the past three days, but we’ve managed.  Don’t try to tell me that it was too hard.  All you had to do was pick up the phone and say hello.  But you didn’t.  Not once.”

“The phone does work both ways,” he pointed out.

“I tried to talk to you.  But you were never home when I called, and I never got any response when I e-mailed.  Hell, you were even miraculously out of town when I came after Mom got sick.  Eventually, I got tired, and I gave up.”

Daniel inhaled.  “I’m sorry if it felt like I was avoiding you.”

Liz surprised herself and Daniel by letting out a strangled sob.  “Don’t do that, Dan.  Don’t pull that passive aggressive crap and make it seem like it’s my fault when it isn’t.  Don’t make me feel like I’m the bad guy when you’re the reason I didn’t want to come here!”

His mouth hung open slightly, his face contorting like she’d just punched him in the stomach.  She hadn’t meant to say that, so he certainly hadn’t been expecting to here it.  “You mean… this wasn’t about Mom?”

“No, Dan.  It was about you,” Liz muttered, rubbing her eyes discreetly.  “It was always about you.”

He obviously needed a few minutes to take that information in.  He turned away from her, staring at a blank wall.  She’d hurt him deeply and as angry as she was, she almost regretted it.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that just now,” she told him softly.  “But it’s how I felt, Dan.  You can’t blame me for that.”

He shook his head.  “I don’t.”

She exhaled and closed her eyes to try and stop the tears from coming, but it was a useless gesture.  “Just tell me why, Dan.  Do you hate me?  Are you disappointed in me?  Why wouldn’t you talk to me?”

“I don’t hate you, Mary, I--" he ran a hand down his face, trying to collect himself.  “I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Liz shook her head.  “That’s crap, Dan.”

“I mean it.  I never had time to process the information, okay?” he said, begging her to understand. 

“It’s been ten years, Dan,” Liz reminded him tearfully.  “You’ve had plenty of time to process.”

“Just listen,” he demanded, forcing the words out from between his teeth.  “You came out, Mom went ballistic, and the next thing I know, you’re on a plane to Chicago.  I assumed that you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“But then I tried to talk to you, and you still wouldn’t have anything to do with me.  What about that?”

Daniel’s eyes traveled down to look at the floor.  “I didn’t know what to make of you anymore.”

Liz gaped at him.  “What are you talking about?  I was still your little sister, Daniel.  That never changed.”

“But it did change!” Daniel shouted, making her jump.  It took her to realize that he wasn’t angry.  “I had always pictured myself walking you down the aisle at your wedding and maybe being an uncle someday.  I wanted that so much for us because we would have been so happy.  I know it.  And when you told us that you were gay, all of that got completely wiped out.”

“That would have made you happy, Dan, but it wasn’t what I wanted,” Liz said quietly.  “You can’t blame me for becoming something different than what you wanted.   The important thing is that I’m happy now.”

He clearly didn’t know what to say to that.  She couldn’t bear to look at him now, so she turned her head to the same blank wall he had found solace in just moments before.  Just an hour before, it had been covered with illustrations and knick-knacks that her mother had loved.  Now it was just a white wall, and she could see all of the imperfections that had accumulated over the years.  There were holes and imperfections in the paint that she had never seen before.  She wanted to put the decorations back up so that she wouldn’t have to look at them.

She wondered if Dan felt the same way about her.

“I’m sorry.”

Liz stiffened at the abruptness of the words even though they were spoken barely over a whisper.  “What did you say?”

Daniel swallowed.  “I said that I’m sorry, Mary.”  He took a step forward, physically bridging the distance between them.  “I did avoid you.  I could have made an effort and tried to patch things up with you, but I didn’t.  There’s no excuse for that.  I realize that now.

“I know it’s been a long time, and if you don’t want to forgive me, I’d understand,” Dan continued softly.  “But could you do it anyway?”

Liz was able to hold it together for exactly three seconds before she burst into tears.  It was the kind of crying that seemed to come right out of her bone marrow, making her entire frame convulse.  After a moment, she felt Daniel wrap his arms around her.  She started to pull away, but that only made him hang on to her more tightly.  Finally, she stopped resisting and buried her face in his shoulder, letting out all of the pain and frustration of the past decade.

“I’m sorry, Mary,” he whispered.  “I’m so sorry.”

Liz took a deep breath.  “Do me a favor, Dan.”

“What’s that?”

“Call me Liz.”