Charthur: Part II

So he hadn’t told her about it. Susan’s eyes softened with understanding, as Chardonnay truly seemed hurt for their sake. It touched Susan, but it also made her sad. She hadn’t anticipated this being the first time she learned that their parents were dead. She looked back into Chardonnay’s eyes and a sad smile crossed her lips. She reached over and touched Chardonnay’s hand. ”Thank you. They were lovely, and I wish they were here. Which is why I still pay tribute to them every year by going to their graves, and by celebrating my mother’s cooking skills in the thanksgiving preparations. They’re not really far away. They’ll always be a part of our family, no matter what!” She shrugged. ”Arthur and I don’t often like to bring attention to the fact. He moreso than me,”

In the other room, Adelaide’s laugher was a background noise. Arthur had ceased playing with the animals and slowly unhatched the gat to get into the kitchen, looking down at the ground. He could tell Chardonnay had intense emotion, just from her voice. How could he have thought she would have sneered? And told him that must be why he was so crap, that he’d never had parents to raise him? How could he think she’d be such a bitch about it?

”Arthur, come sit.” Susan gestured for her brother to come over and sit. He did, not making eye contact, his knuckles tight as his hands clenched on his knees. ”You know what, Chardonnay? I think I should show you some pictures! Like I said, we always try to keep them in the family!” She chirped and stood up. ”I’ll be right back!”

Susan darted off to grab a photo album, already back to her happy-go-lucky self. Arthur felt vaguely nauseous. He sat beside Chardonnay, silent, unsure of what to say to make this better. Nothing could make this better, because his parents were dead and he hadn’t told her. He had opportunities. But the words just couldn’t form.

”I –“ he stuttered out, clearing his throat. ”I... don’t like talking about it. Being an orphan isn’t something I enjoy bragging about. So I just never mention it.” But he knew he should have. He glanced over at her. His eyes were shining—not overflowing with tears, but they were there. ”I never even knew them. I barely remember them,” he looked away, clenching his fists tighter. ”...I always wonder if they’d even like me if they did know me. So I didn’t want to – re-think those thoughts. But I... should have told you. I’m sorry.”

Arthur bit his lower lip. He really hadn’t wanted this to come up in such a... crap way. He should have told her when he explained the New York trip. He should have explained when they discussed her family. He should have explained last night. Yet, he hadn’t, and he could see the emotions in her eyes. Anger, hurt – he didn’t know how she’d react.

Initially, when she reached for his hand, he winced – expecting her to hit him or something. But the touch was gentle and he looked at her hand on his for a second, before he felt a small warmth beginning in his chest. He was tempted to cry, but held it in, shaking the tears out of his eyes with a few fierce blinks. He turned his hand around to face the palm of hers, lacing their fingers together, returning the squeeze. She was actually being genuine, he could tell by the tone of her voice. He gave her a smile that looked more tired than anything. ”I... thanks.” He half-mumbled. He gently ran his thumb across the back of Chardonnay’s palm, not feeling self-conscious for once in their relationship. It just felt better to be comforted by her, even if it wasn’t going to change anything. It was genuine. ”I do wish they were here. Susan always says that mom would have liked you.”

In the door to the kitchen, just behind the gate, stood Susan with albums in her hands. She gave the scene before her a warm smile, remaining an outsider until her name was mentioned. She slowly unlatched the gate and stepped into the kitchen. ”She would have! She was a chef, too, but never paid for it.” She sat down at one of the chairs, and placed the albums onto the table before her. ”I think there’s a few pictures of them with baby Arthur in here, too!”

Susan smiled at Chardonnay, glancing to Arthur when she mentioned the stew. ”Oh, he made the stew for you? That’s always been his favorite since he learned how to cook!” Susan said, giving her brother a teasing look. He blushed and avoided eye contact but Susan just giggled. ”I know! I wish you could have met mom.”

She opened the album to the earliest pages. The first photograph was of a young couple. The male looked like Arthur, with much paler skin and lighter blue eyes. The woman in the photo had tanned skin, and the same almond shaped eyes as her two children. The two were in cheap wedding clothes, and Adelaide was showing off the ring on her finger. The diamond reflected a beam of light, which made her hand difficult to see. ”Our mother was a runaway, so their wedding wasn’t much. They basically eloped, how scandalous!” Susan laughed, ”This was our mother, Adelaide. Our father was Wren! He probably would have liked you, too, he was more like me though! I feel like you’d have gotten along better with mom!”

Arthur glanced over at the photographs before them. What would their child look like? Would some of their grandparent come into play? He had gotten his father’s facial structure but his mother’s coloring – would the kid look like him? Chardonnay? Her parents?

”Dad’s parents never liked mom very much, and unfortunately, they died when I was a baby.” Susan said. ”And mom’s family... I don’t know. She never said anything,” she shrugged. ”Maybe we have cousins in Brazil! But she did leave us with her family recipes! Which is why we always took the Turkey this specific way!” Susan smiled at Chardonnay. ”And she always loved feeding the neighbors in our apartment complex her cooking!”

Susan smiled at the comparison. ”Really? That’s not too surprising; some parents can be protective of their kids, especially when it comes to partners. But they really loved each other. Our dad’s family was rather well-off, but when he eloped with a Brazilian girl they cut him off! But he didn’t care; it was never about money for either of them. They were just happy. And wanted a family.” Susan could remember sitting down with her parents and asking them about her grandparents. ”When his parents died, he didn’t get any of the inheritance. So they never had much, but they never let me know about it! Not until they died, anyway,” she shrugged her shoulders.

Susan could see Thomas donating his food to people, just to see them enjoying good food. ”Mom used to be a stay-at-home parent, but she always went to soup kitchens. She liked to make her own recipes there.” she said. When Susan mentioned they looked like their parents, she grinned. ”Don’t we? Our dad was basically the white version of Arthur,” Susan said. Arthur gave his sister a look and Susan snorted, gently whacking his shoulder.

Arthur glanced back over at Chardonnay. ”I wish they could have met,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. ”Every August, we go up to New York to visit their graves. That’s why we went on that – that trip I invited you to.”

Arthur shook his head. ”You wouldn’t have been intruding if I invited you. It’s not even that somber an occasion. It’s basically a picnic in a graveyard.” He rose his brows at that and Susan shot him a look.

”It’s more than that! It’s keeping our parents involved in our buy lives.” She chastised, smiling over at Chardonnay. ”But he was right about it not being an intrusion! I’m sure they’d have loved to have you visit them. After all, you are carrying their second grandchild!” Susan said. ”I grew up close to our parents, and since both of them had rather... troubled extended families, the family that does choose to stick around no matter what? That’s important to us.” Susan said. She flicked through the album, coming across a page of the four of them. Arthur was a baby in Adelaide’s arms, and younger Susan looked unhappy to be there.

”When Arthur was a baby he was such a brat, I hated his guts,” She gave her brother a teasing look and he scrunched his nose at her. ”But after we lost our parents, I couldn’t bear to lose him to the foster system. Family sticks together, no matter what! He grew on me like a little parasite, and learned to take care of me while I was taking care of him!” The dogs barked in the living room and Adelaide’s giggles reached the kitchen. ”And I know family’s important to you and yours, too! No matter how you acted as a student, I always knew yow and your parents had an inseparable bond. I love that!”

Arthur glanced at the photo album, taking it closer with his free hand. He observed the photograph, a distant look in his eyes as he focused on his mother holding him. He couldn’t remember what she felt like, what her voice was like, but at least there was this. Evidence that, once, she had held him and loved him.

Susan smirked at Chardonnay’s comments, the humor welcome in the situation. Arthur glared over at her in response.

”Oh, I was such a moody little thing! Especially when this one went and got himself conceived. I was so mad I wasn’t the only child anymore! Besides, look at his fat little cheeks – I wanted to pinch them so hard they fell off!” She joked. Arthur grit his teeth. ”But then, he grew up so dang skinny they just faded away into this not-cute jawline of his!”

”Stop,” Arthur growled, but Susan just ruffled his hair, with no concern made to the fact he had combed it earlier. ”Shut up, Princess. I wasn’t the one who wore high heels to a hiking trip.”

He could still remember the first time he met this crazy woman. They were teenagers, assigned together for the same group project. She got on his nerves, he blew smoke in her face, and she broke her ankle which forced him to carry her home. Susan had shown up with a search party; it was chaos.

”Wow! Was it really that time you two first met?” Susan giggled, flicking through the album. She stopped on a page of a younger Arthur – clad in plaid and jeans – ready for his first day of school. She smiled at the picture nostalgically. ”Time flies so fast! Even though we’re siblings, I see Arthur as a son, most of the time.” She flashed her brother a grin, turning to Chardonnay as Arthur flushed and muttered something incomprehensible. ”Watching him grow up is just so hard sometimes!”