Coming Home

What followed was a very hectic day which I spent mostly on the telephone. Either I was calling someone - a bank, an insurance company, friends - or I was being called - people from one of our parents' workplaces, parents of my sisters' classmates, old friends of the family, some of my High School classmates and friends. Everybody seemed to have learned about our parents' passing.

I barely found the time to prepare my sister some lunch and I don't know if I would have succeeded if it wasn't for Mrs Brown, our neighbour on the left, coming in to help me.

Just as I wanted to start making dinner, the Social Services called and we discussed the funeral arrangements and the obituary in the local newspaper. Once my sister was in bed I took a quick shower and somehow managed to fall on the bed while collapsing into a deep sleep.

+

It took me a while to get everything in order but after some time, I managed to get everything necessary done on a daily basis. Our parents had been solid middle class. Apart from the house, there were college funds for each of us. Mine had been untouched as I had been on a full scholarship and one of the first things I did was to transfer the contents of my fund into my sister's one. There had also been some savings which I had partially used to keep us fed and dressed for the first couple of weeks until I found a job at the hardware store in our corner of the town. It allowed me very flexible hours while earning just about enough to keep us afloat without having to dip further into our inherited savings. I had tried to find other, better paying employment, but they all clashed against my need for flexibility and my sense of loyalty towards Charles, the owner of the hardware store. He hadn't needed another employee when he hired me but he had known my parents and knew the desperate situation I was in. In order to be considered, any other job would have to offer the same flexibility and a salary that was more than just a little bit better.

I had been living my new life as a surrogate father for my baby sister for a bit over two years and had just finished preparing dinner on a Tuesday evening in May, two weeks after Carla's thirteenth birthday, when the doorbell rang. I called my sister to the table and went to the door to fob off whoever was there. As I opened the door and saw who was standing there, my brain went to basic survival mode.

Between working, helping my sister with her homework, cooking and looking after the house, I didn't have much time for myself. My dating life, therefore, was non-existent. Not that it had been much to write home about before. I had started dating when I was sixteen and lost my virginity to a girl named Becky when I was sixteen and a half. It was a disappointing experience for both of us and the relationship didn't last much longer. My next girlfriend, roughly six months after I broke up with Becky, was Veronica.

With Veronica everything was different. We were perfect together. We fit seamlessly while studying, we had great and lots of sex and we had fun all the time. We enjoyed the same activities, had a similar sense of humour and could have lengthy discussions without saying a single word. I had found my soulmate.

Obviously, she felt different. Out of the blue as far as I could tell she broke up with me after nine months 'because she wasn't ready for a committed relationship'. Three days later she hooked up with another guy and all thoughts of trying to remain at least friends vanished into thin air. I stopped dating after Veronica and remained single for the remaining months of High School. I still went to parties but only if I had reason to assume that she wouldn't be there. If she showed up nonetheless, I mysteriously disappeared through the back door. In the school corridors, I ignored her the best I could. The short time span between her dumping me and the hook-up with Brian led me to believe that she had already been seeing him when we still were together. She was still with him when we graduated so I took the opportunity the switch from High School to University offered to cut her out of my life in an attempt to move past her. I kicked her out of my friend's lists on all social media and blocked her for good.

When I started at the university, I resumed my dating activity but apart from a few short-term relationships nothing ever came out of it. No one could measure up to Veronica or rather the feeling of completeness I had felt when we were together. And now, she was here, right in front of me, without any advance warning.

"Hi, William."

She had always called me William, never Will like people at school or Billy like my family.

"Hi," was all I was able to say as my brain refused to cooperate in forming a coherent sentence.

"How are you?" she enquired with her melodic and soft voice. I had always loved to listen to her speak and found myself wondering if her laughter still sounded like the heavenly choir as it had more than six years ago. But hearing her voice also pulled me out of my stupor.

"What do you want?"

I hadn't forgotten how unceremoniously she had replaced me with Brian and the shock of seeing her had reduced my ability to speak properly to a minimum.

"I wanted to see you, talk to you. I missed you."

"I'm fine but dinner is on the table. It was nice seeing you again. Bye."

I shut the door before she had the time to say anything else. I turned around and leaned against the door, waiting for my body to adjust to the sudden change in adrenaline levels. I was still recovering from the shock of seeing Veronica again when I entered the kitchen to sit down at the table.

"Who was that?"

"Nobody. Enjoy your dinner."

"Billy, I think 'Nobody' is in the garden," Carla commented cheekily.

My head snapped around to look out and indeed, Veronica was walking up to the garden door that led to our back porch.

"Eat," I commanded my sister before getting up and walking to the glass door that lead to the veranda.

"You're disturbing family dinner," I said as I opened the door.

"William, please. I beg you. Just a few minutes. Then I'll leave."

She still looked good. Not model material but still good. But she also looked very nervous. Her eyes seemed unable to lock onto mine, dropping down or sideways after every short eye contact.

"I remember you! You were Billie's girlfriend in High School!"

"Hi, Carla. How are you doing?"

Veronica bypassed me and addressed my sister directly. I didn't like that.

"Carla! We've had this discussion before. No interruptions during dinner," I put my foot down before turning back and addressing Veronica.

"You can't just show up and think I'll drop everything for you. Leave now."

I could see the tears forming in her eyes before she turned to leave. She was already almost off the patio when she looked over her shoulder and spoke again.

"Please, can I come back after your dinner?"

"If you absolutely have to. We'll be finished in about an hour."

For the second time that day I closed the door to cut her off but the effect was considerably less impressive with a glass door, so I pressed the button to lower the shutter before returning to the table.

"That was impolite. She was your girlfriend."

"Right. She was my girlfriend."

Rarely had I stressed a single word as pointedly as the word 'was' in this statement.

"And she can't just show up unannounced while we're eating dinner. I'd send your friends away just the same."

"No, you wouldn't. You'd ask them in but insist on us finishing eating."

Damn, she clearly entered puberty fast now and kept challenging my decisions more and more often.

"Maybe. But she's supposed to be an adult and should know better than that. Now stop talking about her and eat your dinner."

"What do you think she wants?"

I always used her full name when I wanted to make sure that she really listened to me.

"Carla Hazelwood. I said, eat your dinner."

She took a bite from her plate before she continued.

"I liked her. She was always nice to me when she was here."

"Maybe she was nice to you but she wasn't nice to me. She hurt me badly and I really don't want to talk about her so you better stop it now. Tell me about your history test instead. How did it go?"

"Good. It was easy. How did she hurt you?"

Damn that girl had become cheeky. I barely managed to suppress a grin at her insistence but the confused mood Veronica's appearance had put me in prevailed.

"Do you want broccoli or fennel with your liver tomorrow?"

"The history test wasn't very difficult. I had plenty of time and I was able to answer all the questions."

My threat had the desired effect and the topic Veronica was not addressed again during dinner. Knowing what my sister liked and what she didn't definitely had its advantages but I was quite sure that I wouldn't be able to keep that threat up for very long.

After dinner, she went to watch some TV while I cleared away the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. I could have killed a fluffy rabbit for a cup of coffee but my budget for this month had taken a small hit when Carla had become sick and I had to forfeit two workdays to look after her. Therefore, I had no coffee around, right now. Alcohol also was a luxury I never spent any money on so all I could do was take a glass of water and reflect on what Veronica wanted. One thing I had realised the moment I saw her standing outside the door was that I wasn't over her yet. It may have been more than six years ago that she dumped me but I still had feelings for her. Feelings I didn't want to have. Feelings I had tried hard to banish.

Dead on time one hour after I had closed the kitchen door, the doorbell rang again and I rose from the couch and walked over to the door. I saw my sister trying to follow me secretly in an attempt to eavesdrop. When I reached the front door, I strategically placed my foot half a dozen centimetres behind the closed door before I opened it. I had no intention of letting her in and my foot would help to block the door if she tried to push past me.

"What do you want?"

"Talk. Catch up. Can I come in?"

I was still angry with her and tried to keep my emotions and feelings in check. I wasn't very successful with it and when I replied it was with an aggressive tone.

"Why?"

"Because it's inconvenient to talk here on the doorstep."

I shook my head. She had to perceive how much it still hurt me to see her.

"No. Why do you want to talk? I don't know why I should want that. Maybe you should go and talk to Brian instead."

"William. Please. I know what I did was wrong but it wasn't how it looked. You always avoided me after we broke up and I never had the chance..."

I interrupted her at this point.

"We didn't break up. You dumped me to pursue another relationship."

I could see in her eyes that she realised at that moment how much I still hurt. I saw sadness. I saw pity. I also saw something else. But I couldn't identify it.

"Please let me in."

"I don't have time for you. I have my sister to care for. I don't see a reason to waste my time with you."

That hurt her. I could see that. I also saw the tears that formed in her eyes but I lied to myself that I didn't care. I had to protect myself and even more importantly, I had to protect my sister.

"I suppose I deserve that. What I did back then was wrong and I did it for the wrong reasons."

She pulled something out of her handbag and held it out towards me. It was an envelope with my name on it.

"I'm sorry. Please read this. I try to explain everything."

"If it makes you leave, I'll take it."

I started to pull the envelope out of her fingers but she held onto to it until I looked up and into her eyes.

"I'm really sorry for everything I did."

"You want me to take it or not?"

Somewhat reluctantly she let go of the envelope and I closed the door in her face but I still heard her parting sentence.

"I never stopped loving you."

With trembling fingers, I locked the door and turned around to lean against it. I was severely shaken by the confrontation and felt that I was close to crying. I took a couple of deep breaths before I left the small entrance hall and entered the living room where my sister was standing. The expression she wore on her face made it obvious that she had heard the entire exchange. On my way past her, I dumped the letter into the bin next to the sofa.

"Won't you read it?"

"Don't you have homework to finish?" I retorted rudely, causing Carla to start crying.

Disgusted with myself, I stopped dead in my tracks and did my best to find my inner focus. I turned around, took the two small steps to get to my baby sister and embraced her.

"I'm sorry, Darling. I didn't mean it. I'm angry with Veronica and took it out on you. That was wrong. I'm sorry."

I kissed her on top of her head. She quickly calmed again and I sent her back to the TV while I went to fold the laundry that had finished drying. I soon realised that I wasn't able to concentrate on anything but the letter in the garbage can and the conversation with Veronica.

What could she possibly have written in there? What did she mean when she said she never stopped loving me? If that was true then why did she cheat on and dump me in the first place? I don't know how long I stood motionless next to the dryer before Carla came up behind me and hugged me.

"I think you should read it."

"I'm afraid."

I felt her jerk a little. For the first time since our parents had died and I had accepted the responsibility to raise her, I had admitted that I was not always on top of everything. That there were things I feared. Things that were beyond my ability to handle.

"That's why you should read it."

That little girl was way smarter than was good for her. Unfortunately, she was right. If I didn't read it the possible contents of this letter would haunt me forever. But what if I didn't like what she had to say? Wouldn't that haunt me forever as well? Or the worst-case scenario. I liked what she said. What would that mean? Thinking of it, I wasn't even sure what I would like to read and what I didn't want to read. What would I get out of an apology? Maybe I wasn't over her but I had moved on. My life had a different focus now than it had then or even two years ago. The death of my parents had changed everything.

Could I grant her forgiveness if she asked for it? Why would she want it? What were her intentions?

I realised that my sister was still holding me in an effort to provide me with consolation. I smiled, turned around in her embrace and gave the top of her head a gentle kiss.

"You know you still love her, don't you?"

"Yes, I know."

"And you understand she still loves you?"

I looked at the thirteen-year-old girl. How the hell could she be so sure of that?

"That's the thing. I don't think I can be sure of that ever again. Not after what she did all those years ago."

For a short moment, she looked at me with more earnestness than a girl her age should be able to.

"Trust me, I know. And you know it, too. Listen to your heart, not your head. I love you, Brodad."

That was one of the running gags in our little family. I was Brodad, half brother, half dad. It also helped to take the seriousness out of the moment.

"Love you too, Carla. Now hush, it's time for bed."

"Read it. For good or for bad. Good night."

And with that, she left and went upstairs to brush her teeth and change into her pyjamas. Pensively, I returned downstairs and went to the paper bin into which I had thrown the letter. It wasn't there anymore. I furrowed my brows and looked around. It was lying on the armrest of the couch, my name clearly visible. I dropped my ass into my seat and picked up the letter, holding it in one corner, swivelling it, letting it hit my other hand repeatedly.

I brought it to my nose and smelled it but it didn't have a specific odour. I don't know what I had expected, maybe some perfume but it was totally neutral. I turned it over and looked at the backside but it was plain white. The flap had been glued, she hadn't just tucked it into the back. Maybe she hadn't expected me to accept the letter and would have thrown it into the letterbox. She would have wanted the envelope sealed in that case.

After turning the arguments for and against over and over in my mind, I finally decided that I needed to know what the letter said. I tore off the corner of the envelope and then pushed my index finger into the hole and tore the rest of the flap.

With slightly trembling fingers, I pulled out a few thick sheets of paper and unfolded them. She hadn't used regular paper, it obviously was of high quality and for an instant, I asked myself how much it had cost but my mind quickly returned to the task in hand and I started reading.

This is my umpteenth attempt at writing this letter as I usually already fail at the form of address and there is a pile of crumbled-up sheets in the basket. 'Dear', 'My dear', 'my dearest', 'beloved', 'my' or simply 'William'. I just don't know. Everything is so messed up in my head.

A few days ago, I came home for the first time in three years after finishing my studies overseas. It took me a couple of days to overcome the jetlag and then I fortuitously bumped into Priscilla and Ashley - I'm sure you remember them from school - when I was in town. They told me about the accident and the passing of your parents. I'm really sorry for your loss. I always liked your parents and to hear that they had died hurt. I would have come to the funeral if I had known about it. I'll go and visit their graves to express my respect.

I also heard that you are back in town and take care of your sister and act as her legal guardian. It took me a while to recover from that shock but when I did I went home immediately to write this letter. There is nothing I want more than be able to talk to you but I also know that there is a good chance that you won't receive me. Therefore, I'm now writing this letter.

I desperately hope it's not too late. That I still have a chance to correct my mistakes from six years and five months ago. I know I hurt you and therefore, the first thing I have to do is to apologise.

I AM SORRY. I AM SORRY I WAS A STUPID BITCH. I AM SORRY I HURT YOU. I AM SORRY FOR EVERYTHING I DID. IT WAS ALL MY FAULT.

I want to explain why I did it. Not to justify my actions because they aren't justifiable but without honesty from my side there can be no forgiveness from yours.

The truth is I was scared shitless. The night before I broke up with you I had a dream. A dream that should have disturbed me but didn't, quite the opposite. I dreamed of you, me, our children, a nice little house in the suburbs and a white picket fence. I was a seventeen year old High School girl and dreamed of having children and I still remember the warmth I felt when I woke up with a contented smile plastered on my face. I panicked. I was so young. I thought I shouldn't dream of a suburban idyll. I should dream of conquering the world, instead. I should dream of making a career, being an astronaut, a scientist, a doctor. When I saw you that morning, I broke up with you.

'I'm not ready for a long-term relationship.' These words still reverberate through the halls of my memory. I know today how wrong I was. I was ready for a committed long-term relationship with you and could still have chased my other dreams but it didn't match with what I thought I should want.

I realised my errors the same day. My Mom showed me how wrong my thinking was. Unfortunately, I didn't listen to all of her advice. She told me to run to you and apologise but my stupid teenager brain came up with the most imbecile of all possible plans. I grabbed the next best guy in a moronic attempt to win you back by making you jealous.