One (More) Little Thing Part 17

'How can you say that! You've never lost a child, you don't know what it means!'

'No Helen, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't shout, I'm sorry you're right, I don't know how that feels and I pray to our dear God that I never do, please Helen, forgive me, please?'

Amy stared at her mother and her sister, appalled at the exchange she had just witnessed, the rawness of it, the suddenness of it, the truth of it... the pain... she would never... was that a blessing?

It had all started out so... ordinary... just another chapter in the Barksdale wars... Her mother had found any number of things to criticize in the hotel. Of course Helen WOULD have to move somewhere that didn't have a Four Seasons and Evelyn had vowed never to set another foot in one of the Grand Hotel chain so that left the family run Dutchman Inn, one step up from a flophouse as far as her mother was concerned.

Evelyn had refused to drive up with Amy in her "Deathtrap" and had insisted on flying from Richmond International to Baltimore-Washington and had then endured a cabride almost as long as Amy's drive up the interstate. Her mood hadn't been improved by the accommodation on offer in the Dutchman and the fact that Helen wouldn't be free to see them until that evening. Amy was pretty sure Helen was in no rush for the encounter, she was pretty apprehensive herself. Barksdale women were famously adept at fighting and holding grudges that would put any McCoy or Hatfield to shame but were equally maladroit at every other kind of human interaction.

It didn't help either that none of them had had a drink. Amy would happily have killed for a stiff straight gin right now for starters.

At least the meal had gone well enough. "Adequate" as Evelyn had pronounced it, rare praise indeed!

Now here the three of them were, not five minutes since the staff had cleared away the remains of dessert and blood had been drawn... metaphorically at least.

The silence persisted for an uncomfortable few minutes. Amy was about to say something even though she was at a loss for anything meaningful to say when Helen unbent a fraction and allowed a small crooked smile on her face.

'Yes Mom, I'm sorry for shouting but please understand... I know you don't know what I've been through... no mother should ever have to... ' Helen paused and screwed her eyes tight shut. 'No one, no one, no one... nobody no man or woman or anybody should ever have to bury their child... '

'But what...' Amy cleared her throat and repeated in a clear voice 'What about Daria? She didn't die.'

'I KNOW THAT! DO YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT!'

'Please Helen... I think maybe... in some part of your mind... I honestly think you don't. She isn't dead.'

'I KNOW!'

'Are you sure?' Evelyn asked gently.

Helen turned her glare away from Amy and back to her mother. 'What? Yes of course, I mean I see her every day! Of course I know she isn't... she isn't... Look Quinn... died... it's been hard for me to accept I know but I know. Quinn. Died... all right? There's no escape from that fact... '

'And there's no escaping that from what you've told us that you think Daria is some sort of changeling, put there in place of your own child.'

'Amy that's just...'

'Just what? Nonsense? Rubbish? What? You said yourself you have no idea why you've been acting the way you have. If not that then what? Explain it to me, please.'

'Amy! Look you don't have children so you don't...'

'No and I never will have! I can't! Tell me that means I don't know how to love!'

Evelyn spoke up then 'Oh Amy, I didn't know, why didn't you ever say...?'

'Because I was ashamed all right? Because unlike perfect damn bloody Rita and Helen I can't make babies! I'm a... I'm a...'

'No Amy your worth as a person isn't defined by...'

'DON'T YOU SAY THAT TO ME! DON'T YOU DARE!'

'Amy, please...'

'No Mom, I'm sorry but I...'

'I'm so sorry Amy I thought you...'

'Thought what? When did you ever give me any kind of consideration? What do you care if I can never have a family? You lost one and I'm so sorry but you're throwing the other one away! If you don't want her I'll take her. I love Daria, I always did.'

'NO! You won't take her from me!'

'Then love her, accept her! Show her! Tell her!'

'How...?'

'Just tell her! Say it out loud goddammit Helen must you be so dense?'

'Amy, please keep your voice down. The staff...'

'Mom, will you for the love of god SHUT UP! I don't give a damn about the staff! Or you! I only want what's best for Daria, won't you... can't you please understand that? I know I was never good enough and Rita has all your love but...'

'No NO NO! How can you say that? I don't love you any less than Rita! You or Helen! I love all my children, I always did.'

'Yes but she gets...'

'And when did I ever refuse you anything you asked me for?'

'But you give her...'

'What she asks for. YOU never asked, nor you Helen. God knows I tried but I'm not going to humiliate myself offering you things and having them thrown back in my face. I swore when you were a teenager I'd never let you hurt me like that again! You only had to ask but I won't keep offering, interfering in your lives where I'm not wanted but to think I'd refuse you...'

'Oh God, Mom... what...? I thought... I always assumed...'

Across town Trent stood in the plain brown austere utilitarian offices of Jake Morgendorffer Consulting and wondered...

He had listened to the rantings and ravings for over an hour. The denunciations of this "Mad Dog" and most bitter of all the confession of the unthinkable, hitting Daria. Of all people, Daria. Daria, who was as much a sister to him now as Janey, almost anyhow, certainly more so than Penny or Summer, she was his friend. How could anyone...? How could her own father...? She was such a sweet little thing and she cared so much and she suffered so much...

And Jake had hit her, walked into her room and shouted at her but she hadn't heard because of the headphones so he'd hit her.

Trent was no saint, he'd done a few things himself while drunk or under the "influence" and he had some regrets but thank God he'd never... that one time driving home when he'd almost... but he'd missed... thank God...

Jake regretted it, he could see that. It was consuming the man, fueling his addiction but he seemed to be stuck in this endless spiral... he did something he was sorry about so he drank to forget about it and then did something he was sorry about...

Trent had tried. He had finally managed to articulate what had driven him to go to court to get custody of Jane and what that had cost him. But he didn't regret that, he'd never regret that, it was the most awful and disgusting and terrible and noble thing he'd ever done, standing up in that court and basically accusing his parents of abandonment... it wasn't that they didn't care it was just they were so damn bad at it. With Janey in the hospital and no one to sign the papers for the procedure he'd had to nut up or shut up.

His reward? Janey was alive and well. The cost? He'd had to go get a job and when that hadn't worked out he'd had to talk the band into doing cover gigs. At least Nick had backed him up and Max didn't care but he thought Jesse would never forgive him...

He did forgive him now though, since Daria came along. They played covers but also their own songs to crowds they didn't dare dream about a year ago. Was it worth it? Hell yeah, all of it and here he was explaining that to a man who was passed out drunk on the floor of a two bit office in beautiful downtown Lawndale. What a joke!

One good thing. At least he hadn't brought Jake home to his house, not with Daria staying over. That would have been... bad. Hooray for text messaging.

Oh Christ! Jake had been lying on his back so Trent turned him over so he vomited to the side. 'Not cool, Man, you don't wanna do a Hendrix in this dump.'

Now what? Stay or go?

Jane Lane, student, artist, rock n'roll road manager and pretty damn cool kid even if she said so herself was worried. First there'd been that whole scene with Amy, who was pretty cool too. Then the two of them had eaten a fancy dinner in The Settlement like a couple of business ladies. Then, on the walk home, that semi had passed too close by and Daria had crumpled up in tears like a child afraid of the boogey man. To top that all off there was that weird text from Trent. What the hell?

Now here she was in her room watching Daria play her acoustic, some old song she'd never heard before but it scared her somehow, even though it was strangely beautiful.

I was twenty-one years when I wrote this song.
I'm twenty-two now but I won't be for long
Time hurries on.
And the leaves that are green turn to brown,
And they wither with the wind,
And they crumble in your hand.

Once my heart was filled with the love of a girl.
I held her close, but she faded in the night
Like a poem I meant to write.
And the leaves that are green turn to brown,
And they wither with the wind,
And they crumble in your hand.

I threw a pebble in a brook
And watched the ripples run away
And they never made a sound.
And the leaves that are green turned to brown,
And they wither with the wind,
And they crumble in your hand.

Hello, Hello, Hello, Hello,
Good-bye, Good-bye, Good-bye, Good-bye,
That's all there is.
And the leaves that are green turned to brown.

"Leaves that are Green" by Simon and Garfunkel