Rewriting the Ending

by H P Tune

  “That isn’t resting at all, actually.”

  “You’ll have to entertain me, then,” Mia said, reaching over the arm rest and moving the small strap from the bag on her lap that was tapping against the wheel. “For a while at least.”

  Juliet rolled her eyes. “I have some books you can read. It’ll be good for you.”

  Mia tried to give her best scowl of disgust. Despite often sitting down to read novels, the idea of having to relax was not something she was appreciating. And she really did feel fine, a little tired maybe, but mostly well.

  “Maybe you can read mine,” Juliet offered, and Mia thought for a moment that she hadn’t heard her correctly.

  “As in the one you’ve been writing?”

  “Mmmm.”

  Excitedly, Mia clapped her hands and looked up at Juliet. “Are you serious?”

  “For the moment,” Juliet said. “But don’t ask too much, or I might take the offer back.”

  “Yay, I would love to read it. I will definitely stay in bed for that, the whole time. I will not get out of bed until I’ve read it all.”

  “That sounds a little weird, you might want to shower or something. Eat maybe; but you can also help you know. Maybe you can help with the ending. I’m, I’m stuck.”

  Mia nodded slowly, lifting her hand to wave at Martin as she noticed him standing next to the car. She had to resist the urge to make a sarcastic comment or even a slightly annoyed one. Were their lives so paralleled with Juliet’s storyline that she had to bail on them as well? She had to create some traumatic ending to her novel because of a jaded disbelief in happy-ever-afters? Mia was quietly pissed off at Juliet’s intention to leave, and she had good reason to be. It didn’t mean her feelings for Juliet had changed, because they hadn’t, not one little bit, but it did mean that she was human too. She wasn’t someone who could just be pushed around without feeling the effects of that.

  Part of the reason she had fallen was because she hadn’t been concentrating on where she was going; she was a little too busy crying. And then the trees blurred and Oscar’s footing slipped, and she responded with a jerked reaction rather than the calm and smooth response that was needed. She didn’t even see the branch that hit her in the head, or rather, that she half rode and half slid into; and by the time she was being knocked off, it was too late. All because she was thinking about losing the most important person in her life, and accurately so, it seemed.

  “I have a feeling we can write the ending together,” Mia said softly. Subtlety had never been her strong point.

  Juliet let the comment slide as they came to a stop aside the car. Taking the bag off her lap, Juliet tossed it in the middle of the backseat and stood back as Martin guided Mia in. She slid along the seat with only a small grimace. “Thanks,” she said as the door closed and shut her off from the hushed, terse exchange between Martin and Juliet, even though she could still hear them talking.

  “You joining us?” Martin asked curtly, leaning towards Juliet with both hands on the arms of the wheelchair.

  “Umm, yeah,” Juliet answered.

  “You better give some thought to how long that’s for.” Even from the car, Mia could make out the anger in his voice. He was protective of Mia, particularly since she had returned. He seemed to feel it was almost his duty. God knows he had seen how everyone else in her life had treated her. Mia wondered if he knew or not that she could hear everything he was saying to Juliet.

  “She didn’t need to come home to this,” he was saying now, thrusting an envelope at Juliet’s chest that had been folded multiple times in the palm of his hand.

  “Ah…”

  “You make her happy,” he uttered with a low growl, taking the chair out of Juliet’s grasp. “Who knows why, with the way you seem to have treated her.” There was no end to what both he and Janet were privy too, just by their daily presence in the house. “Listen, I think I could really like you. I’d like to see you two work. But that girl in the car, she’s like family to me, so if you screw her over like that bastard husband did before you, I’ll…let’s put it this way, I’ll look after that girl as I would look after my daughter.”

  Mia could see Juliet visibly swallow, straighten up and shove the envelope into her jeans pocket. She tossed the small duffel bag over her shoulder and nodded, eyes falling to the bitumen.

  “I understand,” she said so softly that Mia barely heard her. “Wish I had someone to back me up too. Mia…she’s lucky to have you.”

  Martin gave a stern nod, and that was the last Mia could see, since he took a step back towards the hospital entrance to return the wheelchair. Juliet stood motionless, watching his retreating back. Juliet was hardly dangerous or aggressive; stupidly armoured to protect herself, maybe, but deliberately harmful; no.

  “Sometimes if you stick around long enough, you earn the right to have people go to bat for you.” Martin had returned. “I would never turn down another daughter, but not if she’s going to disappear every time she feels frightened.” Mia noticed how his voice was lower and gentler as he pointed towards her pocket. “My girls are more than that,” he said, tapping at his chest. “More guts, more heart.”

  He walked away then, leaving Juliet to hopefully contemplate his words. He waited in the driver’s seat for her to join Mia before placing the car in drive and slowly accelerating away.

  CHAPTER 20

  Sitting up in bed, Juliet sunk back, surrounded by pillows. She had gathered them behind Mia and against the bedhead, obsessing about moving them around for minutes despite Mia’s insistence that she was already comfortable. Then Juliet had joined her in the bed. The thick duvet was pulled up high over their laps, and gathered around their stomachs. Soft music played in the background from Mia’s phone attached to a dock on her bedside table. Juliet cast her eyes over the small cut on Mia’s forehead, just to the side where she was sitting. It was hard to comprehend that the abrasion was the only lasting injury that Mia had walked away with. It still had two white butterfly plasters in place, but they would be discarded in the morning. The possibility of what could have been made Juliet’s stomach drop.

  When they arrived home, Juliet took some pasta and sauce from the freezer and prepared dinner. She liked having something to focus on while Mia took a long bath and settled into bed; it gave her time to think and relax and give herself a bit of stern self-talk as she replayed Martin’s short but direct words over in her mind. She hadn’t given much thought to the fact that her issues would translate to something observable, that she was so hesitant and indecisive, that her behaviour would be obvious. It had clearly been, though, and for what it was worth, she appreciated Martin’s directness.

  It elicited a few pangs of jealousy, though, knowing that Mia had someone playing a pseudo-family member when she had no one. He had picked up on that too, apparently, since he had invited Juliet into his world with just a couple of conditions. Juliet had always considered herself to be fairly emotionally mature, intelligent, and independent, and she was probably all of those things to some extent. It just seemed like her need to analyse and be self-reliant had compromised her ability to sustain an emotional connection.

  As always, the knowledge wasn’t the issue; it was action she struggled with.

  So, they chatted easily over dinner, eating from trays on their laps and playfully chiding each other about Mia’s horse riding and Juliet’s writing mode. Mia seemed to be patiently waiting for Juliet to initiate their more serious discussion, ensuring the ball was in Juliet’s court. And as subtle as it was, it shifted the dynamic, something that Juliet knew was needed.

  Still, Juliet remained casual, until they both held steaming hot chocolates in their hands.

  “Mia?”

  “Mmmm?”

  Juliet’s eyes fell momentarily to the sheets, out of habit. She forced them back up and offered a shaky smile, then nervously laughed. “This is hard, huh?”

  With a nonchalant shrug, Mia took a sip of her hot chocolate. “Lots
of things are, aren’t they? I mean, the important stuff usually is.”

  “Yep, ah-huh,” Juliet said, tracing the mug in her hands distractedly. She was only marginally aware of her movements, just one of those simple soothing actions that she did when she was uncomfortable. “So, I should have been out there with you…”

  Mia gave her a confused look in return. “Why? I go out all the time on my own. You were writing. There was nothing strange about that, was there?”

  “I guess I freaked out when I saw you on the ground. You could have died out there.”

  “I know. Really I do. Guess we’re becoming masters of close calls, but that doesn’t make it your fault. I can probably imagine what it was like for you.” She grimaced a little. “A bit like when I saw you in the airport, all bruised and beat up.”

  Juliet smiled softly. “Yeah, fun times. Maybe we’re like cats and have nine lives or something.”

  “Can we not test that theory out?” Mia asked.

  “Mmm, okay.” Juliet took a sip and placed the cup on the bedside table before shifting and pulling up her knees, settling more on her side so she faced Mia. Her side gave a small pang of pain, a little reminder that her stomach muscles had worked hard to keep her and Mia upright on the horse. Her legs were just as sore. “Sooooo.” She drew out the word as if she were stalling for time, and Mia smiled, trying to calm her. “So, I umm, I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you. I guess I wanted to say that first.”

  “You were about to, though, weren’t you? Leave?”

  “I was, I think. I mean, I gave myself the option. I don’t really know if I was going to use it, but yeah, maybe.”

  “I think you were, Juliet.” Mia’s voice, though not at all angry, left little room for challenge.

  “You’re probably right. You usually are.” Juliet’s head turned upward with her eyes shut tight.

  “I feel like this is Groundhog Day, Juliet.” When Juliet opened her eyes again and looked down, Mia was waving aimlessly at her. “You’re telling me you don’t want to leave, but you are…Is that where you’re going with this?”

  Juliet shook her head. “You should be angry with me. I told you that I’m not good for you.”

  Mia drew in a sharp breath. “That’s just an excuse. Well, it feels like an excuse. You have this reason that you hold onto for why you can’t get close to people. Well, look around—we’re close. We’re already there. You don’t need to be constantly stressed out, we’re good together. We’re fine. If you just stop running.”

  “I know. I fucking know.” Why did she have to feel so exasperated at herself all the time? “It’s not like I want to, but yeah, I get how stupid and childish it seems.”

  “I’m not saying that, okay? I’m really not. But you’re worried about us never being what we already are. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “It barely makes sense to me.”

  Sighing, Mia dropped her voice and shook her head at the room. “You weren’t even going to tell me.”

  Silence fell between them, awkward and lingering. “I left you a note…a letter. I would have called.” It was a feeble offer, she knew.

  “Do you know how that feels? And I’m not trying to blame you, and I don’t want to, but the fact that you would have left and I would have come back to a note? God, Juliet.”

  Juliet grimaced. “And if this is too hard for you, if I’m too much work, not worth it, then just tell me, please. I don’t want to do this to you. If you want me to go, tell me and I will.”

  “Are you kidding me? If you want to leave, you can look me in the eyes and tell me that. You don’t get to use me as an excuse, okay? I am here, and I am willing to work this out with you, to support you.”

  “But?”

  “But nothing. There’s no huge conditions. I’ve told you I love you, and I don’t even want to imagine my life without you now. There is not a chance, though, that I am going to live every day petrified that when I get home, you’re not going to be here. And that all that you will have left behind is a…is a note.” Mia’s voice stayed calm and unwavering. “That’s your choice, not mine. Yours. You need to be accountable for your decision in this, because this isn’t me. I’m not pushing you away. You’re tearing yourself out of my life.”

  “I’m not blaming you Mia. I know this is all me.”

  She had this splintered shell that she disappeared behind when it came to relationships. Juliet knew she accepted this inability to deal with her emotions without even considering fighting it. That side of her, the side of her that hid, was a far cry from the person she was when she spoke about travel or writing. She was animated then, excitable and passionate, brave. Such a stark contrast.

  “What do you want?” Mia asked. “If you forget everything else, what do you want?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Mia dragged a hand through her hair and drew in a breath. “If you stop and just pretend that you can have whatever you want in life and there’s a complete guarantee that it will work, what do you want? Not what you think you should want or have, but what you actually want.”

  “I want to be with you,” Juliet said without missing a beat. “But without the constant running commentary in my head.”

  “What? The commentary that says I’m going to turn out to be some psychopath?”

  Juliet laughed, lifting her hand to slide down Mia’s arm before pausing and dropping it back to the pillows. “That you’ll realise that I’m far too complex, too screwed up, and not worth the hassle.”

  “Not gonna happen,” Mia said nonchalantly. “I already know you’re screwed up,” she teased, “and totally worth the hassle.” She drank a few more mouthfuls of the hot chocolate before settling the cup to her side. “And to be serious for a second, I just want to see that I’m worth it too, that I’m worth you fighting whatever it is that you need to fight to stay with me.”

  “You’re the only one that has ever been close to worth it.”

  “I’m not so confident either, Juliet. I need to hear and be shown that I’m kind of important too.”

  The guilt tore at Juliet, washing over her in a wave of regret. “And I’m so very sorry that I haven’t done that, been doing that.”

  Mia nodded. “It’s important to me that you show me that.” She was silent for a moment. “What do we do?”

  Juliet sighed, and when she spoke, she could barely get her voice above a whisper. “Can you help me?”

  “Oh honey, I have no idea how. But yes, over and over again, yes.”

  “When I was twelve,” Juliet said quietly, sinking further down the bed and into the pillows, “I saw my father in bed with a woman, in bed with someone that wasn’t my mom.”

  Mia screwed her face up. She looked immediately disgusted.

  “I never told her or Ben or anyone. But he knew. My father knew I saw him. On the surface, they had this supportive marriage, but underneath, it was fucked. I’m sure he had more affairs, probably a crapload of them.”

  “And I know what it’s like to find that out and to see that as a kid, almost a teenager. Makes sense that you think all relationships are doomed.”

  “Not this one.” Mia’s hand dropped to lay palm up between them. Juliet pointed her index finger and traced lazy circles over the skin. “And, for the record,” Mia said, “when it comes to cheating, I could not be more anti that if I tried.”

  Juliet smiled slightly.

  “I just, well, I think I’ve experienced a fair few things, mostly bad stuff.” Mia trapped Juliet’s finger in mid-circle, pulling her arm to hug it to her chest. “And if I based the future on that, I’m not sure I would ever do anything now. I may as well have called it quits.”

  “What you’ve been through,” Juliet said, “God, I couldn’t compare. Wouldn’t.”

  “It’s not that. It’s more about making a decision not to base the future on the past. Which is easier said than done, but I think making that decision and naming it helped me a lot.”

>   “That worked for you?”

  “It did. I mean, I’m not naïve and I don’t think it’s that simple. But honestly, the place I was in, how low I was…I really could have just given up and figured the entire world was out to get me, so why even bother? Really making that conscious decision and telling myself that, it did kind of work. I still tell myself it sometimes, in my head, that is, although I do talk to myself frequently.” She grinned.

  “I think I feel more sane when I’m on my own and people aren’t privy to all this crazy,” Juliet said.

  “Mmm,” Mia said, nodding and smiling. “The sex is a little different though.”

  Juliet gave a laugh, she appreciated that Mia could give her brief reprieves from the intensity of the conversation.

  Mia continued, “It’s easier because you don’t have to open yourself up to anyone…It’s all surface level. And that might be fun and yeah, easy, but is that really how you envisaged your life to turn out? Alone just so you didn’t have to deal with the important shit?”

  Slowly, Juliet shook her head. “Not really, I used to imagine spending my life with someone when I was really young. Having the house and the backyard, two big dogs that we would play with. But then life happened, I suppose. That got harder and harder, further out of reach.”

  “Mmm, until it wasn’t. Until it was actually a reality.”

  “Yep. And then I go all super-crazy.”

  “Crazy doesn’t have to be bad, but what it might mean is that you try this whole new strategy and prepare, ’cause it’s pretty out there. You ready?” Mia asked.

  Juliet rolled her eyes.

  “Yep,” said Mia.” You talk. You talk to the person who is head over heels obsessed with how hot and awesome you are. Tough, huh?”

  “Very funny, Mia.”

  “I know. I should have been a comedian…”

  “Mia?”

  “Yesssss?”

  “What if I can’t give you what you want, later on…in the future?”