Shadows dulled the old sunroom in hues of grey as the bleakness from the cloud-ladened sky bled through the windows. Heavy droplets struck the glass, the usual pleasing sound of their irregular tempo doing little to lull their listener.
Two stiff wicker couches decorated the space and a lone individual huddled at the end of the one facing outward, her eyes watching the empty backyard. A throw pillow lay across her lap and she ran her fingertips lightly across the seams, feeling the thick stitching rough against her skin. A cup of tea sat on a low table close by; the brown liquid having cooled long ago, unappetizing and untouched.
Her cheeks felt tight and she briefly rubbed at them with the long sleeve of her shirt before gripping the pillow again as a chill ran through her even though the air wasn't cool.
Perhaps she'd been sitting too long next to the open windows, exposed to the mist of the rain and occasional breeze that whispered lazily through the black screens. No clock could be seen so she was unsure how much time had passed since she'd found her quiet spot. Be it minutes or hours, both felt unsettling and wrong.
She held the pillow tighter.
There came a distant knocking from within the house followed by a pause and then hushed voices speaking. Floorboards creaked as footsteps approached and she turned to see Mrs. Campana, the homeowner, appear in the doorway.
The older woman looked her way briefly as if checking to ensure she was still there before motioning someone forward.
Alexandria felt her throat constrict and tears well up as a familiar face appeared; one characterized by bright blue eyes and framed in warm reddish-golden waves.
She pushed herself off the couch and closed the gap between them, the visitor's name spilling from her lips in a warbling voice.
"Aunt Judy," she cried as she was swept up into waiting arms.
"Oh, Alex, honey."
Alex pressed her face into the soft curls trailing around Judy's shoulders, unable to stop the sobs that burst forth. She clung to her aunt, who was a lifeline in a sea of gut-wrenching despair, and the tears that rolled down her cheeks mixed with the strands as she cried against the secure embrace. She could feel her aunt trembling and heard sharp shallow breaths next to her ear and knew Judy wept as well.
It took several long moments for some measure of composure to return and pulling back, Judy ran her thumb across Alex's cheek, wiping away the salty streaks left behind on pale skin.
Ron appeared from behind his wife and he too was quickly wrapped up in a tight hug. He planted a gentle kiss against Alex's brow and she heard his voice crack.
"I'm so sorry, kiddo," he told her, his own eyes watery as they separated.
"I'm glad you guys are here," Alex managed to choke out, hands wringing in front of her. "You too, Sam."
Her cousin nodded from his place a few feet behind his parents; sullen and quiet during the greeting. Only once Judy stepped aside did he move forward to give Alex a stiff one-armed hug.
"Hey," he replied, a bit louder than a whisper. His squeeze was brief and his eyes couldn't seem to meet hers, instead focusing on the bare wooden floor as he retreated, shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans.
A voice cleared itself from the doorway and they looked to Mrs. Campana, who had silently watched the exchange.
"Can I offer anyone something to drink? Perhaps some tea?" she asked in a heavily accented voice.
Judy nodded. "Yes, thank you. I think we can all use something warm."
Mrs. Campana ducked her head and returned to the interior of the house.
Judy took a seat on the couch, drawing Alex with her, while Ron and Sam sat opposite to them. Alex cuddled up close to her aunt, a soft whimper escaping as the comforting pressure of an arm rested across her shoulders.
"We should have been here sooner..." Judy murmured, threading her fingers through Alex's hair.
"Sweetie, we left as soon as we able," Ron reminded gently.
Judy shook her head. "I could have gotten a flight. Arrived yesterday-"
"It's okay, Aunt Judy," Alex mumbled. "Mrs. Campana has been letting me stay here since… since mom." Tears threatened to spring up again and she captured her lower lip between her teeth trying to keep them at bay.
"Mrs. Campana... she's the one who called us. Is she a friend of your mother's?" Ron asked.
"From work." Alex nodded. "And her son goes to my school. They've been good to us since we moved here."
As if on cue, Mrs. Campana returned, bearing a tray full of steaming cups and a bowl of homemade tortilla chips. She handed out the refreshments, receiving polite thanks, then turned to Alex.
"The funeral home called earlier. They have some questions. I took a message as I wasn't sure if you wanted to be interrupted."
A slip of paper with sprawling cursive was given to Alex and she stared at it with unease. Plans needed to be made, details sorted out, costs to cover.
"I've never done this before…" Her hand shook. Everyone was watching and she didn't know what to do. Where to start.
Judy's hand enclosed hers and Alex lifted her gaze to her aunt.
"You don't have to do this alone," Judy said, giving a gentle squeeze. "We're here. We'll help you get through this."
Alex swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat and nodded, allowing the note to be taken from her and passed to Ron, who skimmed it briefly.
Ron gestured to Mrs. Campana and the two of them left the sunroom.
Relieved somewhat, Alex grabbed her tea and this time she was grateful for the drink. The liquid was still piping hot but the sensation against her tongue helped to cut through some of the numbness.
Sam and Judy followed suit, Sam helping himself to the chips although his stiff posture still had yet to lessen and he appeared out of place amid the two women.
"How have your studies been?" Judy asked tentatively, choosing a subject of conversation that seemed appropriately distracting for the context in which it would be discussed.
"Alright, I guess." Alex replied, eyeing the tortillas but deciding against reaching for one. Her stomach was leadened as it was and the snack wouldn't do her any favors. Rather, she crossed her arms over her abdomen and leaned back, running her thumb along the foremost scar near her wrist, trying to think back to what had been happening recently in school. "I've been getting better grades this year so far… Kept me from having to do remedial math."
"Well that's good news." Judy smiled, giving a supportive pat to Alex's thigh. "Sammy's been doing well also, haven't you, sweetie?"
Caught with a mouthful of tortillas, Sam blinked wide and chewed hastily in order to respond. "Um, yeah. Pretty good here."
"He's planning on doing his SATs this spring," Judy continued. "Getting prepared for college and… which ones were you looking at again?"
Sam shrugged. "I haven't really decided where I'll apply. Maybe Boston or John Hopkins. Something in the East."
"And get out of California, huh?" Alex asked.
"Yeah. Just… something different." Sam refrained from meeting his mother's briefly pained gaze.
The tension in the room didn't need to rise further so Alex cleared her throat. "I was thinking about going to college too."
This earned an approving hum from Judy. "Oh? Are you wanting to do something in art? Your mother was always telling me about the pictures you drew."
"Er—no. Those are just—art is just a hobby." Alex shook her head, trying not to focus on the use of her mother in the past-tense. "I was planning on taking history. Maybe teach afterward."
"Teaching is a very admirable career," Judy acknowledged softly.
Alex nodded, giving her a tight smile and, unable to contribute anything more meaningful to the table, silence once again descended over the three; glaring and awkward.
Not giving up, however, Judy changed subjects. "Oh, Sam has a girlfriend now."
A red tinge crawled up Sam's neck and he tried to appear interested in the dwindling bowl of chips. The corners of Alex's lips quirked briefly at his embarrassment and her aunt's not-very-discreet excitement regarding this bit of information.
"Sammy, show her some pictures. She's a very nice girl," Judy added to Alex.
Her cousin took out a phone from the recesses of his jeans and began looking through its content. At one point his eyebrows shot up and Alex watched as his thumb furiously clicked against the controls. Suspecting he had just come across a picture that wasn't of the sharing kind, she let out a strained chuckle.
"Picture you don't want your mom to see?" she asked, the teasing remark feeling out of sorts against the dark tone of her mood.
"Hm?" Sam looked up, his eyes moving back and forth between her and Judy with a confused expression that lasted momentarily. "Oh, oh yeah. Sorry." He coughed. "Just some of the guys being idiots. Ah, here." He passed the phone to her.
A gorgeous brunette was posed on the screen, leaning up against a wooden fence with dunes of sand and the ocean behind her. Her fingers were threaded through her hair in the attempt to brush it from her face as the long locks blew waywardly in the wind and the smile she wore was carefree and young and solely for the one on the other side of the camera.
"That's a very nice picture," Alex said, staring down at the laughing girl cradled in her hand.
"Her name's Mikaela. We've gone to the same school for a while. Finally got around to asking her out. It's nothing serious," Sam replied, nonchalantly. He picked up his tea and took a sip then made a face and started spooning in a few mounds of sugar.
Judy leaned over Alex's shoulder. "Is that Dockweiler beach?"
"Yeah. Mikaela likes the ocean."
The scenery and name were familiar to Alex and memories began tickling their way up from the recesses of her mind. Memories of a hot sun beating down from above while her mother smeared mounds of lotion across every inch of skin barred by Alex's bathing suit. The fruitless chase of foamy edges of the surf as it rolled and slid across the land before disappearing to rejoin the ocean depths. Ron offering and subsequently being buried in white sand by tiny hands and then bursting free to chase Sam and her down the beach, their shrieks and giggles amusing their mothers who sat and snapped pictures from under the shade of a parasol.
Alex traced one of the dunes with her finger. "We used to go there a lot..."
"Every summer as soon as you kids were out of school you'd be begging to go," Judy said, the wistfulness in her voice a trailing sigh. "That was before you and your mother moved away."
Returning the phone to its owner Alex sat back against the wicker with a defeated huff and sour note. "We shouldn't have left Southgate..."
"Alex, honey, you know your mother wanted to provide you with the best," Judy reminded gently, "and that meant being flexible when it came to relocating for work."
Alex grimaced. Oh she knew alright. She knew exactly the reason behind each move and it wasn't the rose-colored opportunity her aunt's words made it sound like.
"We shouldn't have left," she repeated, feeling words spilling forth before she could stop them; words that were venomous and loathing. "If we hadn't moved because of me, then maybe I wouldn't be here right now burying my mom."
The following silence weighed heavy on the room and from under lowered lashes, Alex could see Sam stricken in his spot, teacup partially raised to his lips.
Judy cleared her throat before addressing her son. "Sam, go see if your father needs some help."
The haste in which he jumped up and left the room was just another glaring hint of how much he wanted to be somewhere else and Alex slouched lower on the couch.
"Alex, you are not—look at me." Judy grasped Alex's chin, gently but forcefully getting their gazes to meet. "Listen to me very carefully. You are not responsible for what happened to your mother."
"I am…" Alex breathed, her body starting to shiver.
"No, you're not." The hand moved to cup Alex's cheek. "You have no blame for anything that's happened. Do you know how much it hurts me when I hear you say things like this. How much it hurt your mother to know that her little girl tortured herself with needless guilt?"
Alex could only shake her head, words failing her. The tears welled and fell again.
"It's not your fault. Please, please, believe me."
The words were fraught with emotion and the hand against Alex's face trembled. She leaned into the touch and found enough remnants of her voice to reply just as the fragile barriers she'd tried to enact crumpled all around her.
"Then why does it feel like it is?" she managed to choke out before her grief burst forth, vocalized as hoarse wailing cries that racked her body and radiated deep aching pain down into the core of her being.
Arms gathered her up again, pressing her tightly to warmth and solidity, while a hand stroked over her hair. She felt herself being rocked back and forth and between her choked gasps there came a soft humming, low and melancholic. A tune, familiar and old, formed and brought Alex back to a time when she was still small. When her mother sat beside her in bed at night, singing to lull her into sleep, just as the sisters had heard it from their own mother when they too were young.
Alex could hear her mother's voice in her head, singing the lyrics along to Judy's humming; the hymn of a young boy alone on the brink of his own death, coming to know that he would forever be loved no matter the trials he endured until his final breath. It was haunting in its melody but the message it carried soothing and as the verses went on, Alex's cries dissolved into hiccuping whimpers, which too soon ebbed.
Alex pulled away feeling her tension draining and being replaced once more by numbness. It wasn't quite clear which was worse as both emphasized the vacant space within her created by the loss of her mother. With a prolonged sigh, she decided feeling nothing at all was at least less exhausting.
"Am I… is this too fast?" she heard herself ask, meaning to be more specific but having difficulty formulating thoughts into something resembling coherent sentences.
Judy's questioning look forced her to try again.
"Is it too soon to be having the funeral?" Alex kept her gaze on her lap where her hands were clasped, thumbs circling each other. "I feel like it's too soon but then I think that if I take too long, it's like I don't care enough..."
Her aunt stared out at the backyard for a moment in thought before replying. "I remember when your Grandma Lee passed, it was up to Mary and I to make the funeral arrangements. We held off, wanting to wait as long as we could so that everyone who loved her would have enough notice so they could attend; especially considering many of her friends and family had to come from overseas."
The name brought to mind the fuzzy image of an elderly woman with fiery hair and prominent laugh lines that hid the clear tubing of an oxygen machine; Alex having only known her grandmother briefly.
"And that was bad? To wait?" Alex asked.
"Not necessarily bad. Our hearts were in the right place but it wasn't until after the burial that we realized we hadn't been able to start healing," Judy explained. She grasped her cup of tea and swirled the liquid, watching the slight ripple play off the china. "In the end we realized Mum would have disapproved in our choice; prolonging our suffering like that."
"So, I'm doing the right thing then?"
"Honey, you were the most important person in your mother's life." Judy's warm smile was reassuring. "Whatever you feel is best, what makes you the most comfortable, is the right thing to do."
Alex nodded, a small flicker of confidence quelling some of her fears.
The creak of the floorboards made both women turn and Ron stepped into the sunroom, phone in one hand while the other covered the mouthpiece.
"Sorry if I'm interrupting," he said in a hushed voice, "but they're wondering about flower arrangements. Is that something we want prearranged for the service?"
Noticing eyes upon her, Alex spoke up in a voice slightly stronger than before. "Yes. A lot of flowers; orange ones. That's something I know Mom would have loved."
Judy stood and offered a hand to Alex. "Then let's go make sure she has the most beautiful ones we can get."
Without hesitation, Alex grasped Judy's hand in hers and followed her family into the house.
0-0-0-0-0
The rattle of a key in a lock echoed in the empty apartment followed by a creaking door as it was slowly opened. Alex pushed her way in from the stairwell, taking care not to disturb a stack of boxes and newspapers that sat in the tight front hall just beyond the entrance.
Sam waited behind the group a few steps down.
A dog howled from somewhere nearby and the faint wail of police sirens could be heard in the distance. He thumbed the edge of his wallet, which sat safe and secure in his pocket as his eyes roamed the the dimly lit stairwell with its faded wallpaper and dated metal railing.
On arriving to the apartment complex, he had felt uneasy after taking in the rundown surroundings. It hadn't helped either when they came upon an older, stick-thin woman lounging on the front steps, barring their way. Her wiry frame was adorned in sun-burnt skin that stretched too tightly over knobby joints; an odd contrast to the overly bagging fit of her clothing. Her stern face, sharp eyes and beakish nose reminded Sam of a predatory bird and he'd shivered as her beady gaze locked with his, lips curving into a toothy smile before she dragged long on the dwindling butt of a cigarette. Alex, however, had greeted the woman by name, whom then in turn responded with the same familiarity; kindness hiding within the depths of a voice that croaked from years of tar and nicotine use.
Shame had mixed with his nervousness then and while he couldn't shake the feeling that his cousin lived in an unsavory part of the city he was disappointed he'd been so judgemental, especially upon hearing Alex speak of her neighbours, calling them "good people".
He sighed and trudged up behind his parents into the apartment.
The dog howled again.
"Sorry about Rosco," Alex said as Sam shut the door behind them, locking the two deadbolts; He assumed she was talking about the dog.
"He does this every night. Has a little poodle girlfriend down the street that gets let out at this time. Don't worry, he'll stop soon."
Judy placed her overnight bags on the ground. "That's alright, sweetie. We have our own share of evening noise at home."
Yeah, like aliens landing in our backyard, Sam thought, holding back a knowing smile as he relieved the pressure of his backpack from his shoulder.
Alex turned to face them, gesturing at the walls as she did so. "Well, this is it. Our home. It's a bit small but cozy."
She led them into the first room off the hall, which turned out to be the kitchen. Ron went to the circular table that sat in the center and set down the two pizza boxes he'd been carrying next to a dirty bowl and glass. Several more could be seen over the lip of the sink.
Following Sam's gaze, Alex cleared her throat, grabbing up the plates and turning on the water. "Sorry about the mess. I didn't get a chance to clean up..."
Judy took the bowl from Alex and waved her away. "No need to worry about things like that. Besides we're going to be dirtying a few more plates anyway. Now, get a slice of pizza already. You too, Sammy. You kids are probably starving."
Ron huffed a laugh. "Not just the kids. I'm famished." He flipped open the boxes to release the mouthwatering aroma of cheese and spiced tomato into the air. Sam grabbed a serving as Alex offered him a fresh plate she'd brought down from a cupboard to which he threw a second slice on, the first already have been crammed into his mouth. He thanked her with a nod and muffled grunt.
Chewing happily, Sam hadn't realized how hungry he'd been until now; the tortillas from earlier the only thing he'd eaten since leaving Southgate. Taking notice of the bliss on the faces of everyone else as they got their share made him guess that they too were in the same boat; the pressure to get to Meaford as soon as possible and the stress of the situation having pushed their appetites to the back seat.
Just as he bit into his second piece of the doughy treat, his phone buzzed in his pocket. A quick glance at the screen showed a familiar number and he gave everyone an apologetic look.
"I'm just going to take this. That okay?"
"Of course," Judy replied. "If that's Mikaela, tell her we say hi."
He was already flipping open the phone. "Sure thing."
Ducking back into the hall he moved away from the kitchen for a bit of privacy. "Hey, babe," he greeted, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as her voice came through from the other end.
"Hey yourself. How's everything going?" she replied, concern in her words.
Sam shrugged even though he knew she couldn't see the gesture. "Alright as can be, I guess," he said with careful measure.
Finding that he'd paced into the living room of the apartment, he sat down heavily on its overstuffed sofa with a disheartened sigh; running his palm over his face several times then leaning back to close his eyes.
Mikaela waited on her end for him to continue.
"Been up to anything?" he asked.
"I went over to see Bee today. He misses you guys already."
"He said that?" Sam felt a smile tug at his lips; picturing the bot eagerly awaiting their return.
"No, but I could tell. Mojo misses everyone as well. He didn't want to go back into the house tonight. Likely will be sleeping next to Bee until you return." Mikaela sounded amused and Sam felt an ache in his chest as he yearned to see her smile. "It is lonely over there, though. All dark and empty," she continued.
He glanced out the window at the sky that was tinged yellow from city lights; the sun having already set. "You just left? What did you guys do all day?"
"Chatted. Watched 'Kung Fu Hustle'."
Dammit. He'd wanted to see that.
"Went to the track..." she trailed off; referring to the amateur closed-circuit course on the eastside of the city. Bee and him had been there several times already as it was the only place the Autobot could really build up some speed that didn't attract the attention of the authorities.
Sam cocked a brow feeling there was something more from the lift in her tone at the end. "Oh? How'd that go?"
"He let me drive."
"What?" Sam bolted upright, his jaw falling open. He sputtered. "He never lets me drive there! How'd you manage that?"
"It's all in how you ask, Sam."
He felt as if his eyes would roll out of their sockets. "Riiight," he drawled, giving a shake of his head. "I can't tell you how jealous I am right now."
Autonomous robotic organism or not, Bee's alternative mode was still a sick muscle car that Sam itched to put through its paces.
Her laughter came through the phone, light and musical. "I know. I'm enjoying it."
"Far too much I think." He chuckled along, settling back against the couch. "And as much as I'm going to torture myself knowing this, I have to ask. What was it like?"
"Well, considering I could go at any speed without worrying about crashing, I would have to say it was fucking amazing."
"Way to tone it down in consideration of my feelings," he said.
"Is that sarcasm I hear?" Her voice lowered into that teasing, almost sultry tone that made him weak in the knees.
"Mmm," he replied, tearing off a mouthful of pizza. "You know it."
"Always so sexy."
Sexy indeed, he thought as he pictured Mikaela in the driver's seat taking the circuit's left turns with fierce determination all while wearing a white racing suit. Perhaps it was a little weird, however, since he was picturing her sitting in Bee. Little weird, but sexy.
Mikaela said something else and Sam gave his head a shake. "Sorry, I missed what you said. Noisy neighborhood," he lied, his little fantasy image of her fading.
"I said I missed you."
"Oh really?" A giddy grin spread across his face before he could stop it. "Maybe I should leave more often then."
"Don't you dare," she warned; the amusement in her voice giving away the empty threat.
"Alright, alright. Don't worry." He dismissed the notion. "And Mikaela?"
"Yeah?"
"I miss you too."
Her content hum came through the receiver. "Have a good night, Sam. I'll see you when you get back."
"Can't wait," he promised. "Oh and everyone says hi," he quickly added.
"Tell them I say hi as well."
And then she was gone and Sam let his hand fall to the cushion beside him, staring up at the ceiling while his plate balanced precariously on one knee.
Only a few more days of arrangements and then one for the funeral until everything would be over. He would be back in Southgate in his own house, with his friends, and where his parents would be back to their old selves; cracking terrible jokes, yelling at him for walking on the grass, and being the overly coddling people they were. Not like the current emotional shells that had taken over where everything out of their mouths was strained and their shoulders remained tense from the heavy burden they were under.
He dragged in a shaky breath trying not to think about it.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his gaze and Alex appeared in the entrance to the room, holding a pillow under one arm and blankets under the other.
"Hey. I'm heading to bed now," she started, moving toward him and holding out the linen. "I'm going to sleep in my mom's room and your parents will be in mine since it's a bit bigger. You can have the couch here. Don't worry, it's more comfortable than it looks."
"Oh, thanks," he said, getting up and taking her offering and eyeing the couch. It seemed a little small for him but the blankets were soft and pillow plush enough. There likely wasn't an alternative option anyway.
They stood there for several moments, both looking at the floor, the walls; anything that wasn't each other.
"Well, goodnight," Alex said softly.
As she turned away, Sam thought of the advice Bumblebee had given him and suddenly he couldn't let her leave; couldn't let the night end on this awkward note.
"Alex."
For a second he worried she wasn't going to respond and he would be left there staring after her. But then she paused, turning to cast a sidelong look his way. He couldn't quite decipher what he saw in her eyes just then. Worry? Hopefulness?
He swallowed hard and said what he had to. "Look... Alex, I'm sorry for how I've been acting." Two steps brought him next to her. "It's just I'm not the best in these sort of situations. I don't know how to handle seeing my parents this way. It freaks me out and so I'm doing stupid things."
Her head tilted. "I'm not sure I understand. What stupid things are you talking about?"
"Not being there for you. As family should. Like cousins should…" His mouth set in a grim line as he thought back to his actions earlier that day; how he'd greeted her, how much relief he'd felt on being dismissed by his mother and how soon he realized how pathetic that all was. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm here if you need me."
It must have been the right thing to say as Alex had her arms around him the next moment holding him tight, face pressed against his shoulder.
"Thank you," she whispered.
This time, he returned the hug in earnest.
0-0-0-0-0
A/N: Just a curiosity, prior to this chapter did anyone catch on that there was a high possibility that Sam and Alexandria were related?
Alexandria and Mary's surname is Taylor. Since there's been no mention of Alex's father in the story so far, you can assume Taylor is Mary's maiden name. In chapter eight, "Chase the Sun", you find out Mary has an older sister, Judith, and as per the Transformers Wiki, Judy Witwicky's full maiden name is Judith Taylor.
Also, I've decided not to add a separate chapter for the references list I mentioned in my last author's note. I felt it would disrupt the flow of the story too much. Rather, I've added the list under my profile section if anyone is interested in reading it.