Chapter Eight
What Could Have Been
Cynthia stood outside the band room's exit, taking in the warm afternoon air. Long ago, when she had first moved out to Cordova, she would have considered it still far too warm. Now, after years of acclimatizing, it was at a temperature she now considered more comfortable. While it was still almost a month away from the first day of fall, the cooling had already begun.
Looking back towards the building, Cynthia waited for the band parent she had been helping, whose name she had already forgotten, to get further instruction. The school was still a giant maze to her, but staying away from it all wouldn't help her figure things out.
"Alright!" The redheaded woman said as she came from the double doors. "If you'll help me get these last few cases of water out of my car, then we should be good!"
Stepping outside of the school, Diantha felt the tension fall from her shoulders, enjoying the weather. The cooling temperatures meant fall break wasn't too far off, and it was something she was now desperately looking forward to.
Making her way to the staff parking lot, she stopped at the school's corner, happening to glance down towards the band hall. A mess of blonde hair instantly caught her attention. This time she was sure it was Cynthia.
She looked to be talking with someone, and for a moment, she contemplated approaching her. She wanted to ask her to get coffee sometime while she was in the area. After all, thirteen years left a lot to be talked about. However, it was the look in Cynthia's eyes that kept her hesitant to do so. The cold, steely gaze that, years ago, she reserved for select few people. To now be among that group, and while not unwarranted, hurt.
Shifting the notebook in her hands around, when the person Cynthia had been talking to walked away, she made her choice. "Now or never," she reasoned.
Cynthia had been brought back into her life for one reason or another, and she didn't want to risk it being for only a few fleeting seconds.
Changing direction, she headed for Cynthia, mentally rehearsing whatever she was going to say.
Hearing footsteps approach, Cynthia turned to face whoever, assuming it was the band parent again. The person instead stole her breath for a brief second. A burning feeling soon replaced it. Whether it was the warm air or Diantha who stood in front of her that brought on the feeling, she wouldn't try too hard to figure out which.
"Cynthia," Diantha greeted, trying to keep a neutral distance between them. Despite it, she noted that Cynthia still took the smallest of steps back. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon…" Already she was finding herself going off script.
She nodded, taking in the woman before her. The muted colors of her clothing still didn't seem right. "To be honest, I kind of thought I would never see you again, in general." She had to control herself to not let too much emotion into her voice.
"Yes, well, I understand that, completely…" she said, grimacing. "But I…" she was giving her that steely gaze again, making everything that much harder to say. "I had the thought the other night, but with the whirlwind of seeing you after so long, and realizing I technically know one of my students, I didn't ask. I also didn't want another teacher overhearing. I couldn't have them thinking that you were her mother, and that it might get taken as fraternizing with a student's parent, and—"
Cynthia found herself almost ready to laugh, but not quite. She wouldn't let her guard down around her that easily. Even if it was amusing to know that after thirteen years, she couldn't kick the habit of rambling when she was nervous. "Diantha," she said, figuring it would get her back on track.
"Yes, sorry!" She said, feeling her face get warm with embarrassment. "I…I wanted to know if you would, maybe, like to get coffee sometime?" Her gaze had let up, but she still found herself struggling. "To catch up. I must admit, it's very surreal seeing you after all this time." She shifted her weight to one foot. Surreal didn't begin to cover how she felt about it all.
Cynthia's immediate answer was No. Her secondary answer was Hell No. Her third, and aloud answer that she was sure she would chastise herself about later was a tentative, "Sure." She would have been lying if she had said she hadn't spent the better part of the last few days thinking about her. Curious as to what ever happened to her once she stopped making movies. Curious as to why there as no longer a ring on her finger. Curious if she would finally get an answer to what went wrong.
Her heart jumped. Diantha was sure she was going to reject her. "Oh, wonderful! I'm so glad! I don't know how long you'll be around, but I'm usually free most weekends." Well, if grading and planning work counted as free, anyways.
Mulling it over, she figured she could handle seeing her on Saturday. At least then it would give her awhile to mentally prepare for everything. "Avery has marching band practice on Saturday, so as long as I can get her by three, I'm good then." Even if Avery was likely going to get a ride home from her friend, she was going to at least plan on picking her up. At the very least, there would be a definitive end time to seeing her.
It was sooner than Diantha had expected her to suggest. "Okay, well, here," she opened up the notebook, flipping to a blank page. Ripping the pen off the spiral, she quickly wrote out her number, and the name of the cafe she had in mind. "There's a cafe on West Main Street, it's called Crema."
For just a brief second, Cynthia smiled at the way her accent overtook the word.
"They've got wonderful coffee and pastries."
At that, Cynthia did allow herself to actually smile. "I think I see the real reason you picked that cafe," she joked.
She laughed in turn, bringing a hand to her cheek. "Thirteen years, and I'm still the number one sucker for something sweet." She ripped the paper out, handing it to Cynthia. "But, here's my number just in case you need it for anything. I'm not sure how well you know your way around here."
She looked at the paper as she took it, then back to Diantha. Her smile remained, and was as genuine as the situation allowed. "What time do you want to meet?"
"Around noon, maybe?" She offered.
"Sounds good to me."
With a giddy smile that briefly took Cynthia back to when they were twenty, she nodded. "Wonderful! I will see you then."
"See you," Cynthia casually added.
Turning around to leave, Diantha stopped halfway. "Oh, and I sincerely hope Kay gets well soon."
Once Diantha was off, Cynthia leaned back against her car, looking over the note in her hands. Her handwriting had gotten neater over the years, and she felt odd to have been able to recognize it.
Looking up to the afternoon sky that was giving away to a burning orange, she shook her head, already beginning the process of chastising herself for the decision. "What have I gotten myself into?"
"So, you know Miss Ann?"
Cynthia felt herself jump at the voice of the band mom. Marsha. Or was it Martha?
Looking over, she stood not too far off, but was looking over at Diantha.
"Oh, uh, yeah. We…knew each other a long time ago," she answered, folding the note over.
"Right, right. Avery's from Wisteria, and so you would be too," she said, coming to stand in front of Cynthia. "What can you tell me about her? The band directors always speak highly of her. I've also heard rumors from some of the senior band parents that whenever the band does fundraisers, she's always the top donor," she said, leaning in as if there was anyone around to hear.
That didn't surprise Cynthia, but she still didn't feel comfortable giving away any of who Diantha used to be. She didn't feel comfortable remembering who she used to be. "I want to say that sounds likely, but…to be honest with you, this is the first time I've really talked to her in over ten years, so I don't think I have much to tell you…"
Glancing up from her phone, the note that sat on the car's console caught Avery's attention. Particularly the way the fives were written. Their shape was very familiar to her. In fact, they looked exactly like… "Oh my god, aunt Cindy, are you going on a date with Mrs. Gardner?" She asked, her pitch increasing as she spoke.
Cynthia's face was red in an instant, much to her dismay. "What makes you think that's even her number?"
She didn't miss a beat. "She writes her fives really funny, and those are so her fives."
How she thought she'd even get that past her, she wasn't sure. "No, it is absolutely not a date. I ran into her while helping out one of the band moms, and she asked if I wanted to get coffee with her so we could catch up. Since it's been thirteen years, I figured, why not?"
She wouldn't take her eyes from her. "That sounds like a date."
"You need to change your idea of what a date is," she responded, digging her nails into the car's steering wheel.
Avery didn't seem convinced.
"It's not a date. After what she did, there is no way in hell I would ever date her again."
Now she was just curious. Against her better judgement, she pressed on. "What did she do?" Maybe she could get her side of it, rather than her mother's emotional take on it.
Cynthia sighed. Nothing about this conversation was pleasant. "To make a long story short: we met when we were fifteen, dated at eighteen, and after dating for five years, she walked out on me for some man she's not even with anymore." The silence that followed sat heavy between them.
Avery worried that she had overstepped, and asked too much. She wasn't used to seeing her aunt angry. At least, not in recent memory. When she was five, it seemed to be all she was.
"Sorry," Cynthia amended, realizing how everything was coming across. "It's a sore subject for me. That's just what I've been telling myself. I could be wrong. I guess I might find out on Saturday." If she played her cards right, anyways.
She said nothing in response, returning her attention back to her phone. Mindlessly messing with a few apps, she found herself hoping that her aunt would be proved wrong. Why, she wasn't sure.
Diantha stared into her closet, looking over her array of clothing. Down to a white camisole and underwear, she had gone over a few different outfits, deciding against every one of them. "I am overthinking this…" she grumbled to herself.
Reaching to her dresser, she grabbed her phone, looking at what the weather was going to be doing. For the fifth time.
Low eighties for the day and party cloudy. The only thing that had changed since she last looked was the humidity level.
But no matter what she would pick out, she kept putting it back, and grumbling to herself that she was still overthinking things.
Settling for her pink shirt with the white elephant logo, she then searched for a pair of jeans and left it at that.
"This is just coffee. Nothing else," she said to herself, stopping in front of her full body mirror. Giving herself a look over, she stopped midway through her turn with a heavy sigh. "You should just be thankful that she's even willing to speak to you." Why she had even said yes was beyond her.
Then she realized she had yet to decide what she was going to do with her hair. She reasoned she would try to keep that simple as well. Pulling most of it to the side would be simplest, but then she found herself worrying if it would be too plain…
The cafe around Diantha buzzed with the life of the lunch crowd. Her anxiety towards seeing Cynthia had led her to the cafe much earlier than they agreed to.
She watched the people around her now and then, occasionally looking towards the entrance to see if Cynthia would get there early as well. Though, she figured that if Cynthia was anything like she used to be, she would step foot into the building at precisely noon.
And just as she had expected, right at noon, Cynthia walked in. Her clothing felt a little more familiar to her this round. Blue blouse and black slacks; even thirteen years later she was still a sight to behold.
With a quick wave, she caught her attention.
She slid into the seat across from her, keeping herself pressed as far back in the chair as possible.
"It's good to see you," Diantha greeted, folding her hands across her lap.
Cynthia nodded, but before she could say anything, their waiter stopped by the table. "Oh, your friend finally arrived!" He said, looking between the two. "Do you want a minute to look over the menu?" he asked, looking at Cynthia.
She shook her head, sending a few locks of hair over her shoulder. "I'm not picky about coffee, so I'm ready if you are," she said, looking to Diantha. All she needed was a quick glance to decide.
With a smile, she gave the waiter her attention. "I'll take the white mocha, please."
He nodded, the looked to Cynthia. "Cafe latte." She internally noted that Diantha hadn't picked a pastry of any kind. Something she, in the past, only did when she was far too anxious to eat.
He smiled at them. "Sounds good! Be out with those shortly." He stopped, looking to Cynthia. "Oh, and my name's Clay if you need anything else!"
Once he was gone, Diantha returned her attention to the woman in front of her. For a second, she found herself at a loss for words. Where was even an appropriate place to begin after all this time?
"I'm curious, Cynthia, you know I'm now a high school literature teacher." A far cry from everything she used to be. "What about you? How did you end up here in Cordova as well?"
Cynthia adjusted herself in her seat. "You remember Steven Stone, right?"
She nodded. "Of course!" How could she forget?
She fought the temptation to look at her hand to see if she was alluding to a ring. Even though she remembered that Cynthia had a strong preference for women, given how close the two had been, it wouldn't have surprised her in the least if they were now married.
"He's pretty much the reason I'm here. He got a job out here a little over twelve years ago at the Hazelton Science Museum. My grandmother passed, and I just…had to get out of Wisteria." She avoided looking at Diantha as she spoke, instead studying one of the paintings on the wall. "When Steven came out for her funeral, he told me there was a job opening at the museum. At the time, it was just for a desk attendant, and I jumped at the chance, working my way to now being a curator. Kay wan't thrilled. Neither was her, now ex, husband."
Diantha's smile faded. She was at least happy for her. Science and history had always been her strong point, but before she could say anything of that, she had been lead to another question. "I must admit, I wanted to ask about that as well. Last I saw Avery, she had the Jenness last name, not Beecher." Not to mention she was also small enough to still be carried. Now, Avery was already much taller than her.
Cynthia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Oliver," she spat. "Kay met him a year before grandma passed. I always hated him. From the second I met him, he rubbed me the wrong way. He talked too smooth, and was just…I don't know. Too nice. For about two years she refused to listen to any of my concerns. We got in a huge fight, and it was all really dumb." It reminded her that she had still yet to talk to Kay about what Avery had told her.
"I'm so sorry to hear that."
Her shoulders rose in a shrug, finally making eye contact again. Feeling too tense, she put a hand atop the table. "We were both dealing with grandma's death in different ways. I refused to feel and wanted to escape, and she clung to him. They got married shortly after, and he even 'adopted' Avery, giving her his last name. Though, it was years before Kay and I finally started talking again."
"Again, I'm sorry to hear that." For a second, if even that, she thought to put her hand atop hers to offer some form of comfort. However, it was probably far too intimate of a gesture. "Though, I am assuming you two are on far better terms now?"
She nodded. "Once she divorced Oliver, things got better between us. We finally started speaking again, and…yeah." She realized she was giving a lot away. Way more than she had intended to. "It was nice to have my sister back. I missed her and Avery. She got a job offer out here in Easton, so I helped her move. I was going to come out here to be at Avery's band concert next month, but, well, here I am instead."
That took Diantha by surprise. "Oh, that's interesting…" she trailed off.
Cynthia gave her a look, silently asking her to continue the thought.
"Oh, well…" she forced a smile. "We probably still would have run into each other. I always support the arts programs when I can, and since I'm friends with the band directors, I usually go to all the concerts. I'm even volunteering to help with the marching competition the school is hosting in a few weeks."
Cynthia found herself leaning forward just a bit. "Small world," she commented, forcing herself to sit back. She didn't want to appear too interested. She felt just in still feeling anger towards her. "I guess, all things considered, I'm glad it was parent teacher conference. I can only imagine what it would have been like had it either been Kay who saw you, or if it had been until then that we saw each other." At least during parent teacher conference, she had the option to leave right away and avoid her. She probably wouldn't have had the same luxury during the competition.
Maybe.
She still wasn't sure how those worked, anyways.
Diantha was now the one to look away. "Well, considering the last time I saw her and how she was not thrilled to see me, I'm kind of glad I ran into you first."
That confused Cynthia. If memory served right —which, being over ten years could have been wrong— they last time Kay would have been around Diantha would have been while they were still dating.
And until she walked out, Kay had been very fond of Diantha.
"Alright, Cafe latte and a white mocha!"
The two were distracted from their conversation, looking up at the young man as he sat down their drinks. "If you need anything else, let me know!" Maybe he sensed the slight tension between them. Maybe he just had side work he was eager to get to.
With a quick "thank you" before he left, Diantha grabbed her drink, taking a sip. It wasn't nearly as sweet as she had hoped it would be.
"Well, before I ask you about that—" and how tempting it was to just jump into that conversation "—what about you? I get that you're a teacher, but, and don't take this the wrong way, I guess I don't get why you're a teacher. I don't remember that being something you were ever interested in." Hopefully that would lead into the conversation she was really wanting to have.
Diantha sat her cup down, lacing her fingers together atop the table, thankful that she had at least some time to before talking about her last experience with Kay. "Teaching was something I had mulled dover now and then. I never really got the chance to mention it to you, but I had always been thinking of fallback plans. It's rare that a film star can be that their entire life. I wanted to make sure there was something I could do if my career ever failed, and well, it obviously did."
There was a pause so she could sip her coffee again. The hot drink did nothing to calm her nerves. "I…after we split, I started working on getting a masters in teaching. I thought about teaching somewhere in Wisteria, but…I don't know. Something about this area always called to me on those rare occasions I was here for filming." It sparked a memory. One she wasn't sure if she should bring up. Temptation overruled. "I brought you out here once, remember?"
After a moment of thought, she nodded, remembering the trip. A lot of…firsts had happened on that trip. "We were…north of here, right?" Again, she couldn't look at her. She didn't want to give away any bit of what she was now remembering from the trip.
"Yes, up in Redding, filming at Lake Paige for that god awful horror movie I was in." She laughed at the memory. It would at least derail them from thoughts of what else happened on the trip.
Cynthia laughed in turn. "That was a bad movie," she agreed.
The movie had been awful. The director was awful, wanting to change the script every other day, and was constantly yelling at someone. Her costars were less than professional, and the film's editing had been atrocious.
"I'm just glad nobody remembers that movie since it was early in my career." Being one of her first full-length films right before she turned twenty, and being a small production, both were good combinations for it to be left to obscurity.
Cynthia leaned forward, resting an arm on the table. "Sabine was probably your best film," she mused. Really, it was the only one she could immediately recall off the top of her head.
She hummed, shaking her head just a little. "I would actually say Unto The North was my best role. I wasn't the lead, but I personally think it was among my best." She wouldn't begrudge Cynthia if she hadn't seen that one, however.
"I take it that one was after—" you left "—we split?"
"Yes," she answered, sipping her drink.
"Definitely didn't see that one, then," she told her, point blank.
She forced another laugh. "I don't blame you in the slightest." She probably wouldn't have wanted anything to do with herself either.
Cynthia wanted off the subject. "So, okay, why high school?"
She took another sip before continuing, thankful to not delve any further. "Elementary and middle school were just…too young for me to handle. Children are just so impressionable, and I don't think I can explain things as clearly to a child as I can to teenagers. High school always just…I guess made sense." She tired to not think too hard about her answer. It wasn't an interview, after all. "I feel like they're easier and far more fun to work with, and I just…I enjoyed high school, really. I enjoyed what it offered me."
Cynthia took a long sip of her drink. "I guess I'm just surprised because children were never really your thing," she pointed out. Avery had been the only child Diantha ever really took any interest in, from what she remembered.
"No," she began to counter, "It was…it was the idea of having my own child that horrified me. I never wanted to risk becoming like my mother, even for a second. I couldn't…still can't, handle the idea of saying or doing anything like my mother did with me. And raising a child just to prove I wouldn't be like her doesn't feel right," she explained.
That took Cynthia's interest. In ways, it felt like she was insinuating that Diantha no longer spoke with her mother. The way she held herself when talking about her felt more closed off than anything else they had talked about. They always had a rocky relationship, but asking her about that wasn't on her list. Maybe if she had time she would ask…
Diantha continued. "Actually, some of my favorite memories were of babysitting Avery with you. It's amazing that she's now sixteen! Honestly, I'm quite disappointed that they moved her from my classes. She really is a wonderful student, and always had an answer for me while we were reading Grand Gulliver." Her smile turned into a bit of a grin. "Though, now I'm suspecting a certain someone helped with her understanding of that book. She seemed to know exactly what I was going to ask before I even asked it."
Cynthia looked away from her, amused. "I don't know what you're talking about," she lied.
"I had a feeling," she teased.
"I only remember that book so well because it was your favorite, and you were always talking about it," she continued.
"It's a good book!"
The amusement in her eyes almost took Diantha off guard when she started paying attention to it. Finally, Cynthia was no longer giving her that look.
Honestly, she had expected the coffee date to be awful and strained, but how easily she found herself talking to her as if there wasn't a huge rift between them. Sure, they were still guarded with one another, and there were conversations she didn't want to have —like the one involving Kay— but, overall, she found herself happy that she had at least asked to see her.
"I never said it wasn't a good book. It just wasn't my favorite." That was more or less a lie. It was her favorite at one point, only by virtue of it being Diantha's.
Diantha's grin persisted. "That's because you liked that god awful Runner In The Wild book."
Cynthia rolled her eyes. It was never really her favorite, but she had enjoyed it far more than Diantha ever did. For a second, she was tempted to call Diantha a phony just to see if it would still get a rise out of her. Instead, she opted to move on. "How about instead of talking about my love of bad literature, I ask you about the last time you saw Kay, because I must be forgetting something."
She would have much rather talked about Runner In The Wild than that. "Oh, right…well, okay," she began, hoping she could at least get across how uncomfortable she was with the subject. "It wasn't long after your grandmother had passed. Steven had contacted Siebold, and so I found out through him. I had tried to see you to offer you my condolences." She watched as Cynthia's brow furrowed in confusion. "…Kay never told you, did she?"
"No," she answered, confused as to why it was never brought up. Then again, she had always found it weird that Siebold and his father had showed up to her grandmother's funeral, but Diantha herself hadn't even bothered to show up.
Crossing her arms, she felt one of the larger dips in her skin beneath her sleeve.
"Oh," Diantha awkwardly began, now wanting to talk about it less. She wasn't sure how much she was supposed to give away. How much else did Cynthia not know? "I had…free time between two of my films, and I wanted to see if I could offer you any comfort with her passing. I knew how important she was to both you and Kay. When I showed up at your door, it was Kay who answered, and she made it very clear that I needed to stay away from you. She also said something along the lines of, if I ever dared to show my face around you, she would make me regret it." It wasn't a fun memory to think back on.
Cynthia inwardly grimaced. "Yeah, that…sounds like Kay." The time frame would have been when they were on thin ice with one another, but it did feel nice to know that she did still have her back. As harsh as it might have been.
"I just took that as you didn't want to ever see me again, and since I couldn't blame you, I never pressed the issue." She did rank it as a regret. Where would they be now if she had just fought harder?
A rabbit hole she didn't really want to go down again. Not after so many years of avoiding it, anyways.
Silence followed, leading only the sounds of the cafe around them.
They both looked up when their waiter dropped off the check, with a promise to still tend to them, but only gave him a nod of acknowledgement.
With the conversation having taken an uncomfortable turn, Cynthia could see that Diantha was ready to excuse herself. Not that she was any different. She now had questions for Kay, and needed to debate with herself on whether or not to wait and ask them.
However, she still hadn't asked the question that had haunted her since their chance reunion. While she likely would be in Easton for awhile longer, she didn't want to risk losing the courage to ask, and still never knowing. Not when the opportunity to find out had been practically handed to her.
"Can I…make this worse one last time, and ask you something that's been on my mind for awhile?"
Diantha nodded for her to go ahead. Might as well get it out of the way.
Her mouth opened to form a question, but at first, nothing came out. Maybe the thought of finally getting an answer was getting to her. "What happened? Why did you just leave? I tried to figure that out for years, but I never did, and still don't, understand. I thought everything between us had been fine."
Diantha bit her lip, looking down at the cup in her hands. Her lips curved into a forced smile. "My dear Cynthia—" they both had almost forgot what that sounded like "—I didn't want to leave you. Not for a second." Finally, she held her gaze once more.
It was hardly the response Cynthia was looking for. "Then why did you?"
Her laugh was nervous. "I…I left because I didn't want you to hate me."
Again, not the response Cynthia had been looking for. Leaving her with no explanation hardly saved her that.
She remained silent, forcing her to continue.
"Kathi Lee assured me you would," she told her with a shrug.
Cynthia didn't think she could understand less, but Diantha was proving her wrong on all fronts. Sure, she had always known that Kathi Lee was not fond of her in the least, but to go as far as to convince Diantha that she would hate her?
"I…" Diantha sighed, the words paining her. She didn't want to say it, but after thirteen years, Cynthia at least deserved an explanation. "I intended to ask you to marry me, Cynthia." Her eyes widened. "I told Kathi Lee there was nothing she could do to convince me otherwise. I loved you. I loved you more than I loved my career. I didn't see it as likely, but had the decision come, I would have gladly given it all up to be with you. I had the trip planned for when I would propose, and everything. Siebold and Steven even went with me to pick out an engagement ring."
Cynthia stared at her, wide-eyed and unable to find a response.
At the very least, it wasn't just Kay who she needed to question now.
"But," Diantha carried on, "Kathi Lee assured me that it would be the downfall of our relationship. She assured me that my career would take off, and it would slowly drive us apart. She assured me that you would come to hate me because I would never have time for you. I was young. I let her get under my skin." She felt her eyes begin to sting as she cursed her younger self. "I decided that I would rather end our relationship on my terms, rather than watch the woman I loved more than anything come to loathe me." Even after thirteen years and other failed relationships, if she was honest with herself, she felt like it was a stupid decision.
Every beat of Cynthia's heart hurt as she still struggled for a response. Nothing she had said had even come close to what she had convinced herself of. "What about Mel? I had convinced myself you left me for him." Left and cheated.
She shook her head, looking away from her once more. "Oh, no. Mel was…he was…Mel. I did come to love him, but it was never close to the love I had for you. We were a good couple to the publics' eye; a pair made by Kathi Lee and my mother. We were destined for divorce."
How ironic. To leave Cynthia because she feared divorce, to end up with a man she was sure from the beginning she would divorce.
If it was even possible, Cynthia's understanding was now less.
Seeing that there were only a few ways to continue digging her grave even deeper, Diantha took a steadying breath before rising to her feet. Snatching the bill off the table, she looked to Cynthia. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of grading I must get caught up on before the weekend ends. It's been lovely, Cynthia."
Half turned away, she quickly added, though felt she shouldn't, "If you're not feeling as embarrassed as I currently am later, do let me know if you would like to see me again before you leave. Because I would enjoy that." Her face and neck were burning at that point. "I hope Kay gets better soon."
Cynthia made motion to speak as she watched her walk away, but nothing came out. Unwilling to follow her, despite how much part of her was screaming for her to do so —because what a note to end on— she sat at the table, staring at her half empty cup.
The past week had already been a whirlwind. Adding the information that she could have been married to Diantha almost thirteen years ago only made things worse.
With a steadying breath, and confirmation that Diantha had already paid and left, she grumbled to herself, "Kay is going to enjoy this…"
Cynthia moved about Kay's apartment, fitting the sheets back to the bed she had been sleeping in. With Kay being able to come home the next day, she wanted to make sure her bed was clean, along with the rest of her apartment.
Avery could be heard practicing her instrument in the other room. The flute music would be going along nicely, only to abruptly stop at a wrong note, followed by the most anguished groan Cynthia had ever heard.
From the dresser, she heard her phone ringing. Placing the comforter on the bed, she walked over to pick it up. Thankfully, it was Steven.
She had texted him earlier, asking him to call her, even prefacing it with that she was upset with something Diantha had told her.
"Hey, Steven," She answered.
"Hello, Cynthia. I take it your coffee date with Diantha didn't go over well?"
She withheld a laugh. "Something like that," she told him.
"Anything in particular?"
She figured she might as well just go straight for it. "I probably shouldn't have. I probably should have completely moved past this now, but with her, you know, suddenly showing back up in my life, I had to ask."
"Ask what?"
"Why she left without an explanation."
He made a disapproving noise on his end before clearing his throat. "Well, what did she tell you?"
"That she didn't want to, and that she had actually wanted to marry me."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh," she echoed. "And, interestingly enough, she mentioned that you went with her and Siebold to pick out the engagement ring. Any reason that never came up?" She knew she shouldn't be taking her frustration on him like that, but it felt like such an odd thing to have not told her.
He struggled for a response. "Well…okay, yes, I remember that. She asked me to go so I could verify that she was getting a good deal and to say if I thought you would like it, and Siebold, well, he was always her number one support anyways."
"Why did you never tell me?"
He sighed. "I never told you because I knew how badly you were hurting over her leaving you!"
That didn't help her anger any. "I didn't have a meltdown over it until two years later!" She defended.
"Exactly!" He countered. "I'm glad I never told you, because I don't know how different your meltdown would have been! How do you think you would have handled it, seeing nothing but her engagement to Mel on every other media outlet, all while knowing she had wanted to marry you? How much worse would it all have been?"
Silence fell over her, as she realized that he was right. With a sigh, she let the tension fall from her shoulders, and sat on the bed. "I'm sorry. I hadn't thought of that," she told him. "Thank you. It probably would have been worse. I'm sorry I took my anger out on you."
"Considering everything you're dealing with, it's not like I don't understand. Now, adding Diantha to the mix? I can't imagine how you must be feeling."
"I don't even think I understand how I'm feeling," she admitted.
"Well, anything else troubling you? Surly you didn't just talk about that," he continued.
She nodded as if he could see. "Yes, actually. Despite all that, it was…" it almost pained her to say it. "Nice to see her? I wasn't completely open with her. All morning I was dreading it, and worried I was just going to end up exploding on her but…It was…I don't know. Something like…"
"Something like old times?" He finished.
"Yeah, kinda…but one the same note, I don't want to feel that way about her? She wrecked me, Steven. I don't want to feel anything positive about her," she admitted, laying back to lean against the comforter.
He hummed. "Let me ask you this, Cynthia. Why exactly did you agree to seeing her?"
She took a deep breath, contemplating her response. "I…I wanted answers."
"And now that you have some answers, how are you feeling?"
"Honestly? I think I just have more questions than when I agreed to see her. I still don't completely understand why she left. I spend years convincing myself she cheated on me. Just saying her stupid manager made her do it felt kind of cheap, to be honest. I also don't know what's with her and her mother. I'm assuming they don't talk anymore based on some of the things she said." So many questions, so little time.
"I wish I had a clear answer for you, Cynthia."
A sudden sharp screech of some upper register note pierced the air, causing Cynthia to visibly wince.
"Goodness, are you two strangling canaries over there?" He followed up with a light laugh.
"No, Avery is just practicing her flute music. Music was never my thing, so all I can say about it is it looks high and fast…"
Walking carefully up the steps to Cynthia's apartment, Diantha adjusted the scarf around her neck after ringing the doorbell. It had been a little over two years since she last saw Cynthia, and while her timing was less than ideal, she didn't want to not say anything to her. Not when the most important person in her life had recently passed. And not when Steven had practically begged her to be there.
The door opened, surprising her to see her darker-haired sibling. "Oh, Kay!"
Her expression fell instantly. "The hell are you doing here?" She asked, a hand on her hip.
She did her best to remain stoic. She couldn't blame Kay for being protective over Cynthia. "I was— Steven told me that your grandmother had passed away. I wanted to offer my condolences," she explained.
Kay stepped forward, out into the cold, shutting the door behind her. The fire in her eyes briefly intimidated Diantha. She and her sister shared the same look, but while Cynthia was calm with her anger, and tended to internalize it more, Kay was more likely to lash out. "What the fuck do you think your tramp ass is doing, coming here like this?" She pointed to the ring on Diantha's finger. "With that fucking rock on your hand? You think that's what Cynthia wants to see right now? You think she even wants to see you right now? After what you did?"
Diantha backed up, almost losing her footing on the step.
"You just need to just go back to your shit man you left her for, and don't even bother coming around here again."
Huffing, Diantha wanted to defend herself. "Kay, I think—"
"I don't give a single fuck about what you think! I know you need to leave, and woman, so fucking help me if I ever see you again," she threatened.
Feeling her nails digging into her palm, it took everything in her to remain level-headed. "Fine. My condolences on your grandmother's passing. If there is anything you, or Cynthia, need from me, don't hesitate to ask. Steven knows how to get ahold of me," she hissed, turning around to leave.
Kay began grumbling to herself, but considering it was loud enough for Diantha to hear, she knew it was intentional.
"Fucking skank ass bitch, thinking she can come around here and schmooze her way back into Cynthia's life, well fucking think again you sorry sack of—" the door then slammed behind her.
Tears stung at the corner of her eyes. She had been witness to plenty of name calling. It, unfortunately, came with the business she was in. But that had hurt on a whole new level. Nasty names coming from someone you cared about hurt in ways she would never wish on anyone.
"I'm sorry, Cynthia," she said under her breath, heading back towards her car. Once seated, she reached for her phone. The one even Kathi Lee didn't know about. Her only bit of privacy.
Dialing the number Steven had given her, it was only a few rings before he answered.
"Diantha—"
"Kay doesn't want me to see Cynthia. I'm not going to push it. I see no point." She didn't want to delve further. She wanted to leave it at that.
"Diantha, please—!"
"No, Steven…just…for me, do this one thing: be there for her. She doesn't want me back in her life."
"Kay doesn't want you in her life. You don't know what Cynthia's thinking! Diantha, she's already—"
"Please…let's just keep this easy. I…if you would tell me where Carolina is going to be buried, I'm going to pay for everything, but don't tell her I did. Just let it be the last thing I can do for her. Apart from that, just be there for her. If anyone can make her happy, it's you, Steven…"
