A HARD TALK

We finally broke the embrace after a while and calmed down, now sitting on the porch bench in comfortable and peaceful silence.

If only this bench could talk... There were so many conversations here – well, not all of it was talking – and so many memories.

I always felt like this bench was the "talking spot". My mum would bring me here – and later did the same with Chris - whenever she needed to talk to me about something important, so Chris and I formed the same habit.

By now it was a bit worn out, no one had been taking care of the old wood lately. My dad was the one who originally would keep it as new - as his father taught him when they made it together - and later Chris and I learned to do it together too.

You see, my dad died from leukaemia when I was 13, leaving my mum and me alone and in a really bad situation, but that's a story for another day. The thing is this was his bench, so my mum and I came to love it even more after he left.

We would keep it the best we could, but it wasn't till a few years later when we took Chris in – after his mum died - that we started doing it properly. For the past ten years, no one was here to take care of it properly, I guess my mum might have tried but not very successfully.

Chris had been back for around half a year if I recall correctly, but I guessed he was probably busy taking care of mum and his work.

"I've been meaning to take care of it." He said, getting me out of my train of thoughts. And as I questioned him with a look, he made a brief gesture towards the bench in between us, almost as he had read my mind. Or maybe I was just very obvious. "I just been really out of it lately, with mum sick - I mean Diane - …" He immediately corrected himself and shifted his gaze nervously to his lap.

"Chris," I said slightly angry, searching for his eyes, but he avoided me. "Chris look at me." My tone sounded like my mum when she was angry at me. He snapped out of it, looking at me with a surprised but amused expression. "Gosh, you have me sounding like a mother here" I rolled my eyes when I said that, but I had his attention, he chuckled slightly at my comment. "Glad that I grabbed your attention sir, might I proceed?"

"Yes, mam." He smiled, giving me an exaggerated military salute. I shifted my body to the side, facing him and I proceeded.

"I told you many times and I'll tell you again, all the times I need to. Diane was your mom too, you have every right to call her that, no guilt allowed." I made sure I held his gaze with an; am I making myself clear?-kinda-look till he nodded. "And also to make decisions on her behalf as you did this past few months. She adopted you because she loved you, and you agreed to it because you loved her too." I paused for a brief moment, collecting my thoughts. "Did you do this in front of her or is it just with me? Because I know my mum would never allow you to feel that way."

"I didn't…" He muttered and I realised what it was, but I wanted him to say it, to admit it to me. I waited expectantly for him to continue. "I do see her as my mum, my second mum, you know that. But… I know we left things in a complicated place, eleven years ago." Oh boy, complicated is an understatement. "I didn't want to overstep, I didn't know if you were still angry at me. Because I do feel angry… angry at myself. Every day for these past 11 years. And I know I deserve all your anger."

"I'm not." He looked in surprise at me. And it was true, when I saw him again I realised I didn't hate him anymore, I was never one to hold grudges. "I'm not angry at you, not anymore. But I haven't been completely able to forgive you." I paused, and he removed his gaze from me, I could have sworn I saw a glint of happiness in his eyes, his face relaxed slightly. And a bit of relief.

"I understand. You need to know…" he started, seeming ready to jump onto the theme.

"Chris, no. Stop it." I said, interrupting him.

"But we should talk about it"

"No buts. This is something we should talk about, I agree. No, let me finish" I added, as he was ready to start again. "We should talk about it and finally leave that in the past, but as of right now I don't have the strength for that. I came here for mum, I can't fit any of this in the situation now. Do you understand me?"

"Yes. Yes, I do." His shoulders went down as he let out a relieved sigh and his posture visibly relaxed. "I wasn't trying to force this conversation, I guess I was just nervous about this meeting. I didn't want to talk about this straight away, but I was afraid there might be tension in between us the moment we met."

"Were you feeling any tension when you hugged me before?" I said, slightly playful. I didn't want to seem flirty, just friendly, I really wanted us to get along now, forgetting about the past for a bit.

"Don't say that like you didn't need a hug. You needed one of my magic hugs, just admit it." He smirked, sending a slightly flirty look my way. Okay, abort the mission, this is leading in a bad, bad direction!

"Yeah, the tears and the runny noses made it all very magic..." I rolled my eyes at him. "Look, I really want us to get along in this moment, this is hard enough as it is. We are gonna have to deal with a lot of stuff now; the funeral, the rest of the preparations and, of course, the legal side of things, which I'm honestly not completely ready for." I got up when I started the last phrase, moving a couple of steps away and stopping right in front of him to face him, while I leaned on the railing of the porch "It's been ten years, I believe it can wait a couple of weeks?"

"Eleven" he simply answered.

"What?"

"It's been eleven years, not ten." When he saw the expression on my face, he chuckled lightly and added "Yes, you're right. Mom would have wanted us to get along, especially at this time."

"Yes" I smiled, because he finally said 'mom' without being ashamed in front of me. After a few seconds of holding his gaze, I turned around, suddenly very aware of the next wave of sadness that was starting to come in. "Thank you, Chris."

"For what?"

"For being here, with her, when she needed you the most." I was crying again. Behind me, I heard him getting up and taking a step closer. "I'm never gonna forgive myself for not coming sooner, for not leaving everything aside and simply being here with her. How can I call myself her daughter when I put my stupid gallery show before her? I kept telling her I would come soon, but now it's too late. You, however, left everything to be here. Without you she would have died alone, what kind of a daughter am I?"

"Shhhhh" He pulled me against him for the second time today and he stroked my hair tenderly, till my sobs calmed enough for him to talk, whispering softly above my ear. "I'm gonna be the one lecturing you now. I don't want you thinking like that and I don't think your mum would approve either. She knew how excited you were about this show, you called her every day - some days even twice – and you were going to come to spend some time with her in a couple of weeks, is not your fault you didn't get to see her, we couldn't have known." He pulled me back, cupped my face and whipped the tears, while I could only manage to look at him and keep sobbing. "You know, I've been here for half a year, yes, but I haven't been able to be of much company either. I wasn't able to fully install myself here until a bit more than a month ago, and even then, I couldn't be here for her as much as I wanted."

"But at least you were here." I managed to whisper, afraid that if I spoke too loudly I would break into hysterical sobs again.

"Stop it. You were here just a few weeks ago, you came as much as you could. It's exactly what I meant just now, it's never enough. If you were here you would have been blaming yourself for not coming sooner, or not spending enough time with her. Is not worth it, Diane wouldn't have wanted us to feel like that. We did the best we could."

He was hugging me again now, meanwhile, I kept crying, but in a less hysterical manner. He was right and I knew it, yet I couldn't stop myself from feeling guilty.

"And I also know you didn't come as much because of me." He added in a whisper, I felt really guilty now, knowing he was right. "She knew it and understood your reasons too. So, if you need to blame someone, blame me."