Rewriting the Ending

by H P Tune

  “Only if I could have met you.”

  * * *

  Somewhere mid-flight over the North Atlantic, Mia and Juliet sat quietly, earphones discarded after watching a movie and snoozing lightly. Painfully quiet for most of the day, in Mia’s opinion, Juliet maintained a death grip on Mia’s hand. Even when she curled away from Mia and stared out the window with a small airline pillow behind her neck, she kept a tight hold.

  “Hey,” Mia said after she was confident Juliet was staying awake. She pushed up the armrest between them. “Come here and lie on me for a while; I want to give you cuddles.”

  Juliet turned toward her with the hint of a smile. “I haven’t stopped yet, you know,” she said, tucking hair behind her ears. Juliet had continued to tell Mia that she would gladly fall apart later, when she could. And Mia respected that; sometimes you just do what you need to do, she thought, and then worry about the rest later.

  “I know, and I’ll still be around when you do. But I can still have you here, can’t I?” Mia asked, tapping her chest with an open palm.

  Juliet pulled her knees up and rested them over Mia’s thighs, then lowered her head, cheek resting over Mia’s clavicle, chin tapping the curve of her breast.

  “I wish we were just back at your place and having meals and dancing and getting to know each other. Everything is crazy and chaotic. Why didn’t we get to just start like a normal couple?”

  “It has been a bit full-on, I’ll give you that.” Mia liked that Juliet thought they could be a couple, that the direction they were headed in was definitely together. She thought better of drawing attention to it though; Juliet had enough to deal with. “What’s the plan when you arrive?” she asked instead, picking at strands of Juliet’s hair. Juliet shrugged silently into Mia’s body. “Your flight leaves JFK before mine, so I’ll be able to wait with you until you have to board.”

  Juliet huffed. “Make sure I get on, huh?”

  “I’ll come with you. Just give me the word that you’ve changed your mind and I’ll be on that flight.”

  “No. Thank you, but no. I just need to sort some stuff first. I’m not trying to be all weird about it.” She nuzzled a little closer. “I didn’t really tell you what happened to my father.”

  “I figured you would fill me in when you wanted to.”

  “He’s in the army and based at Fort Riley, hence the Kansas destination,” Juliet explained quietly. “He’s been a soldier since before I was born. We moved around so much—whenever they changed his base. He loves it…loved it, I guess. I hated it. Mom hated it, though she never said that.”

  “I’m not surprised. It’s a tough life for family isn’t it? Always left at home worrying.”

  Juliet nodded, tapping her fingers that splayed over Mia’s blanket-covered thigh. “In the last, maybe, ten years, Dad had been training teams to go over to Afghanistan and mentor the Afghan security forces. His teams started off doing some civilian stuff, just basic law enforcement and working with local officials—well, that was the section he was in. He used to say he was safe now, that it wasn’t the front line.”

  “But he wasn’t.”

  Juliet scoffed. “He had a heart attack, Mia. He might have been over there, but that’s not why he died.”

  “Mmm, I know. But still…”

  “It seems ridiculous. He would be pissed. He would be so pissed that after all our family has been through and all the deployments he’s had that this is how it ended.”

  Mia pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “He was superhuman, Mia. How did he die from a fucking heart attack?”

  “He seemed superhuman. None of us actually are, though.”

  “He always made me feel like I was nothing, like I was a failure because he was the hero, and no one ever lived up to his expectations. I wasn’t good enough—my choices, my life was never good enough. My father was an awful man, and I have to go and say a eulogy that paints him as the…hero.”

  “You don’t have to do anything, Jules. You have to do what’s good for you.”

  Juliet’s nails scraped at Mia’s leg, and she felt the pressure through her jeans. Moving her fingers from Juliet’s hair, she snaked her hand to wrap around the back of Juliet’s neck, kneading the muscle. “I can’t get up there and say what I think. I just need to get the funeral over and done with, play the game. I’ve been doing it half my life, I can do it for another few days.”

  “Family sucks, yeah?” Mia massaged her lightly, soothing and relaxing her in one gentle motion.

  “So much. But distract me for a while. What are your plans? You’re going to just go unannounced to your parents’ doorstep?”

  Mia groaned and hugged Juliet to her, rolling her eyes. “Did you have to bring it up?”

  “You need to have some idea what you’re gonna do, don’t you?”

  “I can’t call them. They don’t take my calls. Or they pretend to not be home. Daniela is the same. I don’t have a choice except to just go to their house.”

  “What do you think they’ll do?”

  Mia shook her head. “Refuse to see me, slam the door in my face—something similar.”

  “Really?”

  Shrugging, Mia focussed on Juliet, who looked ragged and tired. “I don’t know. They’ll expect that I’ve changed my mind, maybe. Accept that the divorce was my fault and that I’ve come grovelling back, to live by their rules.”

  “Fuck ’em.”

  Mia laughed. “Maybe I’ll tell them that.”

  “Should go well,” Juliet said with a light chuckle. “What are they like, your parents?”

  “Evil,” Mia said immediately but then laughed it off. “No, not really. They’re just stuck in the world that they know and can’t see out of it, which I guess I can kind of understand. How do you relate to people when you have never even remotely walked inside their world?”

  “Mmm. I wouldn’t quite be so forgiving, but keep going.”

  “Who will I tell you about first? Mom…my mom is absolutely gorgeous, she’s a beautiful woman. And incredibly intelligent, up on current affairs and international politics. She reads like crazy and probably could have been anything at all that she wanted to be.”

  “Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree…”

  “Well, it kind of does. My mother might be all of those things, but she doesn’t care about that stuff. What she cares about is charity fundraisers, balls, and auctions, about making sure she wears a new dress and a different designer, and about finding the perfect tie for my father to wear. She fires staff on the spot if they make the smallest of mistakes. We went through a million as kids because they were never good enough. Of course, we loved most of them. They were warm and nice. Our nanny once had her pay docked because she didn’t match our hair ribbons with our dresses. We were just going into the city for lunch. Crazy shit.”

  “Whoa.” Juliet wrapped her arm tightly around Mia’s middle. “Staff? As in plural? I think I was like eleven when I was making my own school lunch, never mind having a nanny or anyone else.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think my mom has a maternal bone in her body, and actually, Dad was probably better at the kid stuff. He at least would come home and read to us or play dolls. But he was strict. If there were other people around, we weren’t allowed to speak. We were to follow his rules. And then, when we got older, Daniela and I could just run amok, really. We had platinum credit cards and spent weekends going from party to party, alcohol and drugs, whatever was on. It was how it worked in their world. As long as we weren’t causing trouble to them, anything was acceptable. They all did it too when they were younger, I think.”

  “Rich kids gone wild, hey?”

  “’Til a point, and then it all kind of stopped. Going through college was the same, but then you reach this age, and there are decisions made. You would think that the older you get, the more independent you become, but it doesn’t really work that way. In these families—because it wasn’t just mine, you know—you get this p
eriod of four…five, maybe six years of playing up. And then it’s all shut down. You have to grow up and head into the family business or get married. Like you said, just play the game.”

  Juliet shook her head. “Dad always wanted me to go into the army, follow in the family footsteps. But there’s no way. I didn’t even entertain the idea for two seconds, but it was always the unsaid, you know?”

  “Yeah, I get that. The unsaid. Man, my life has been all about the unsaid.”

  “So, what are you going to do if they figuratively slam the door in your face?”

  Mia sighed. “Probably have a meltdown.”

  “Understandably.”

  “Yeah. What about you?”

  Juliet tilted her head up. “What about me?”

  “What if you’re not okay?”

  She shrugged in response. “I will be.”

  “You don’t have to be.”

  “But I do, for a while at least.”

  “Well,” Mia said, pressing a kiss into Juliet’s hair, “as long as you know you don’t have to fake being okay with me.”

  Juliet didn’t respond, but she tightened her arm around Mia’s waist, fingers pressing into the side of her back. None of it was simple, and they were both heading to that odd concept of home now, to face it all again. It was as if they were walking directly into a pit of fire, and then they would later wonder why they had gotten burnt.

  If there were other choices, they both would have been taking them.

  * * *

  The moment the loudspeaker at JFK announced her flight, Juliet dropped her face to her hands.

  “I don’t want to go,” she said. She only consented to turn her head when Mia tugged on her arms. She gave Mia a tearful, guilty smile. “But I know I have to.”

  “Up,” Mia said. She stood up with both hands outstretched, waiting until Juliet reluctantly took them. She gently pulled Juliet to her feet.

  “So, I will be in a motel tonight and will have my phone glued to me, got that? I won’t call, ’cause I know that you’ll have things that you have to do, and I don’t want to intrude, but I’ll be texting like a crazy woman. And you phone me, okay?”

  Juliet nodded, and her lower lip slightly trembled before she bit down on it. “What time do you arrive?” she asked quietly.

  “Just before you land. A half hour earlier, I think.”

  Leaning in, Juliet pressed a hurried kiss to Mia’s lips; it was awkward and rushed. She wrapped an arm around Mia’s neck and another around her lower back, clutching her tightly. “I’ll call you.” Her own voice was barely audible.

  Mia enveloped her, ever so slightly rocking. “I know it’s not okay, but you can do this.” Juliet nodded into her neck.

  A few more seconds passed and Juliet lifted her face and rested her chin on the curve of Mia’s neck. “You don’t let them fuck you over either, okay? They don’t get to control you.”

  Smiling, Mia drew back and cupped Juliet’s face. She met her in a slow, lingering kiss. And Juliet kissed her back. “I’ll see you soon,” Mia said. “And call me…”

  “Yep.” With what she knew was a defeated look, Juliet grabbed her worn backpack and hanging it over one shoulder, stepped away. She glanced back and waved. “Bye, Mia.”

  “See ya.”

  Juliet approached the counter and had her boarding pass scanned before she disappeared into the air bridge. She couldn’t look back or she would never get on that plane.

  * * *

  Standing in the middle of a barren lounge room, Juliet gratefully acquiesced to the distraction of her phone vibrating in the back pocket of her jeans. She had met with the required army personnel, though she was less interested in financial benefits and payments than she was with negotiating the funeral arrangements. But after hours of planning and completing forms and meeting up with extended family and friends, she was exhausted. And she was standing in the middle of a barely lived-in three bedroom house, with just a small amount of light from the low voltage bulb overhead.

  Checking her phone, Juliet breathed a sigh of relief. It was a text from Mia.

  Hey beautiful. How are things going on your end? I’ve checked in, been for a walk, gone to the shops, and tried to talk myself out of the family visit tomorrow at least twenty times. Been hoping you’re doing okay.

  Juliet slowly lowered herself onto a small sofa which had been pushed to the side of the room. It was the same old two-seater they had lugged from home to home throughout her childhood. Her mother had never liked the furnished army houses; she had always wanted her own things.

  Have I mentioned how much I hate this? :-( No dramas, though, just full on. No talking yourself out of it—you’re going. xo

  Juliet’s phone immediately indicated a return message from Mia.

  You up for a call?

  Juliet didn’t hesitate to reply.

  Call please!

  It was only a few seconds before Juliet’s phone started ringing, her text message box still open. “That was quick,” she said into the receiver.

  Mia laughed. “Just desperate to hear how you’re doing?”

  “Blech, I’m all right. Unless you ask me to sign a form, then I may just have to kill you.”

  “Oh, crap, is that all you’ve done all day? As if you don’t have enough to be doing and thinking about.”

  Juliet swivelled around until she laid back on the sofa, head on the arm and feet hanging off the other end. “It was half the day. I had to go to the base and meet with some representative. I don’t even know half of what I signed. The one good thing, though, is that they’re organising most of the funeral stuff. I just spoke with the chaplain, and he’s going to do it all. I suppose that’s what happens when you’ve served for thirty-five years, even if half of it was, like, an office job.”

  “So that’s good? Are you happy for them to do it?”

  “Shit yeah, I don’t have the energy. They probably knew him better than me anyway. Suppose that makes me sound like a bitch—there’s just so much. I had to go and listen to my aunt sob for hours, and all these people I didn’t even know kept coming to her house. I haven’t even really been in his life. I mean, I have…I’ve known bits and pieces, but I haven’t actually been in his life. All these people—they know him and I don’t. Didn’t. I don’t know.”

  “Mmm, it sounds awful.”

  “I don’t even know what to do next or what decisions to make. His closest friend, who I’ve known since high school, wanted to give me all this stuff to put in the eulogy. Stories to tell. So I said he could do it. And now I feel guilty—should I have? I’m his daughter. It’s my job.”

  “Oh, honey, no. You shouldn’t feel guilty—at all. That’s exactly it. You’re his daughter, so you do what’s right for you, fuck the rest. You need to look after yourself.”

  Juliet released a shaky breath, pressing her thumb and index finger into her eyes. “Tell me I can do this.”

  “You can.”

  “My brother died.” A choked sob escaped her, followed by a startled moan. “And my fucking ribs are still fucked.”

  Drawing her knees up, she rolled onto her side and slipped off the arm of the sofa, so that she was lying horizontal along the length of the couch and curling up with the phone still pressed with one hand to her ear. She cried into the phone, trying to elaborate multiple times, but stopping to gasp in mouthfuls of air and wipe at her nose with the back of her hand. “Ben died over there too, trying to live up to Dad’s expectations. I spoke at his funeral…he was my best friend, and he died.”

  “Jules…”

  “Do you know what Dad said at the funeral? He said that Ben screwed up, that it was his fault. Who says that? And what, I’m putting pressure on myself to stand up and paint that bastard as a hero who loved and supported his family? I have no family left because of him, and I hate him. And I can’t hate him because he’s dead. I’m not allowed to hate my dead father.”

  “You're allowed to feel whatever you feel.”
r />   Juliet cried more audibly. “I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this again.”

  “Okay, Juliet you need to slow down and breathe. Just stop for a second. Take a breath.”

  A silence fell between them. Juliet tried to breathe, to settle. “I feel like crap.”

  “You think? It’s a lot, too much.”

  “Yeah, well, life hasn’t figured that out yet.”

  “You shouldn’t be alone. Where’s your mom? Why is this all on you?”

  “She can’t do any of this…she just can’t.” Juliet loudly sniffled, wiping at her face. “I have to do it.”

  “Okay, then I’ll come, Juliet. Do you want me to? I want to.”

  She hesitated, genuinely considering the offer. “It’s not that I don’t want you to, I just need a few days.”

  “Okay. I’m trusting you to tell me if you change your mind, okay?”

  “I will, I promise. And in a few days, I’ll fly to you wherever you are, depending on what happens with your family. I don’t think I’ll want to stay here.”

  “Fair enough. Something tells me I won’t want to stay here either. I hired a car at the airport, by the way. I’ll drive out to see them tomorrow.”

  “You got your armour ready?” Juliet’s throat was starting to relax.

  “Yeah, absolutely. Full body armour, helmet, the whole lot. Bring it on, right?”

  “And if all else fails, we have Scotland, huh?”

  Mia smiled and chuckled. “Yes, we do.”

  * * *

  It was familiar, and Mia hated that. She was being overwhelmed with memories, both good ones and the not-so-good ones. The road to the family winter property was relatively quiet, but the long driveway was simply deserted. The same trees that Daniela and she had tried to climb as kids lined the paved track, and when she looked out the window at the wide expanse of grass, she could almost hear Daniela’s high-pitched childish squeals.

  At the large iron gate, Mia leaned out her window and punched in the access code. To her surprise, it opened.

  Driving around the large turning circle in front of the house, Mia parked under a shady tree. Her hands shook as she turned the ignition, and the keys fell to the ground as she stepped out of the car.