Chapter Twenty-Four
Lorna rapidly sensed a lump molding into the pit of her stomach. She swallowed thickly as she peered across the counter at the older brunette. The words absorbed into her brain, and she let her eyes glance down at her own body, trying to see the smallness that Franny noted. But she saw nothing small about herself; there, looking intently at her body, all she saw was a slightly protruding gut that made her physically ill to look at.
"I just walk to and from school. It's not a big deal, and it's good exercise anyway. I am no smaller than anyone else, Fran," she muttered, a faint irritation coming out through her voice.
Briefly interjecting their conversation, Alex handed the finished coffee over to Franny to give to the customer. Her eyebrows instinctively arched over her eyes as she tried not to eavesdrop on the exchange between the sisters. She busied herself with wiping down the counters and machines while the morning rush died down.
Cupping her hands around the foam cup, Lorna graciously brought it up for a sip. She closed her eyes as she let the delectable flavor run over each of the tastebuds that made up her tongue. The flavor was bold with a mixture of warm and sweet. She inhaled slowly and then opened her eyes once more to stare back at her sister. Her sister who now looked at her with a constant worry soaking up those light blue eyes of hers.
"It is a big deal when you're walking to school in the middle of fucking winter," the taller brunette pointed out, a faded fury oozing from her voice. She exhaled deeply, trying to suppress her emotions—one since she was at work and two because the anger was more directed at their father then Lorna. Enraged that their own father could—clear as day—see that Lorna was slowly deteriorating each day and wasn't doing a damn thing to stop it.
Lorna bounced her shoulders up in a shrug. She didn't think her routine was anything out of the ordinary, she enjoyed her long walks to and from school. It was one of the only things that to seemed to bring her peace those days. And, in an odd way, she felt closer to her mother when she was walking outside. As though her mom was right there beside her, holding her hand and reassuring her that everything was okay again.
"Eh, I mean I can't drive yet and I hate the school bus so I don't mind walking. I don't understand why you're upset about it, Fran. It's fine."
"And ya mean to tell me dad isn't offering you a ride?"
The younger brunette focused her eyes downward. Her hands cradled possessively around her cup of coffee as she shifted her feet unnervingly. "He got mad at me the last time he took me to school because I opened the door before he parked. Besides he said walking is good for me anyway, I'm fat," she emphasized the latter, remembering his words quite vividly. And, deep down, she believed those words to be correct. She was, indeed, fat and needed to exercise as much as possible to shed it.
To hear that instantly reinforced the already boiling fury Franny experienced. She shook her head, biting down on her lip to hold in the anger as best she could. Yet, that proved to be quite the challenge—the mere thought of Mr. Morello's subtle encouraging of that kind of harmful behavior in Lorna made her want to slam and smash anything she could get her hands on. She refrained, however, and instead reached a hand over the counter to rest comfortingly atop Lorna's shoulder. "Dad's an asshole, hon. You're not even remotely fat. He can't even see clearly with all the damn alcohol he's busy drownin' himself in."
Trying to keep herself busy with the cleaning of the counters, Alex couldn't help but slightly widen her eyes at the topic of their conversation. She kept silent, though, it wasn't her place to interject. Nor her place to even be listening.
"And, anyway, it's a good thing you're meeting with that psychologist in a few weeks. Maybe she can help ya with this problem, too."
Lorna squinted her eyes, holding a hand out in her sister's face. "Can ya keep your voice down, Franny? And what problem? I'm fine. I don't need to see that shrink. Not like dad will take me anyway," she whispered in response, grabbing her coffee and sipping it once more.
Keep her voice down? The words echoed through her mind as she looked around the blatantly empty building. She looked firmly into her sister's eyes and felt a knot at the back of her throat. It was clear to her that Lorna wasn't fine and hadn't been in a long time. A sigh worked its way from her lungs. How she longed for her father to just allow the youngest Morello to move in with her. She didn't understand why he was so hell-bent on keeping her home when he obviously had no interest in properly caring for her.
"There ain't nobody here to hear anything, Lorn. But this just proves that you do need more help than I can give ya. I'll drive ya there myself if dad won't—you do need to go to therapy, you haven't been fine since before mom's death—"
Lorna slammed her hand loudly against the granite surface, roughly yanking herself from underneath the older woman's touch. Her eyes clutched a darkness in them as she glared across at her sister. "Mom's away on a business trip, and I am not going to therapy. You're not in charge of me—dad is and he knows therapy is a waste anyway!"
There was no time for Franny to say anything back as she watched her sister angrily take off down towards the entrance. Frustration rapidly grew, she moved a hand up to push back her hair and grumbled out a breath. Lorna was one of the most high-strung individual's she'd known and it drained her trying to figure out how to help her—when clearly, she didn't even want to be helped. She shook her head. Even if the teen hadn't want to be helped, Franny knew the best thing for her was the opposite of what she wanted.
Tossing the dirty cleaning wipe into the waste basket, Alex turned her attention her coworker. Though she had done her best not to pay much attention to the conversation the two sisters' were having, she couldn't stop herself from listening in on the part where Franny mentioned their mother's death. In the entire year the two had been coworkers there, neither really took the time to get to know each other. Not so much from lack of acknowledgement, but more so from opposing work schedules.
The look she had expressed on her face as she stared at her older coworker was one of empathy. All too well, she knew how much it hurt to lose a mother—she still suffered the grief and mourning of her own. It wouldn't ever go away, but it certainly eased up with time. She cautiously reached over to place a friendly hand atop Franny's. "You lost your mom?"
Franny had to stop herself from flinching at the sensation of a hand over hers. Aside from the sisterly affection she shared with Lorna, she wasn't used to anyone else ever offering her a comforting touch. Looking over at the younger adult, she noted the genuine sympathy that was displayed on her face and nodded her head slightly. "Yeah, she passed away a couple of months ago now. And Lorna—she's still refusing to admit that. I'm sure ya heard us talking, I just don't know what to do for her anymore. It goes in one ear and out the other," exasperation was strongly evident in her voice as well as on her face.
Giving a curt nod, Alex swallowed and felt a lump in her throat. She studied the brunette's features and could easily read the exhaustion that was radiating from her eyes and face. She was all too familiar with that feeling. Grief caused an infinite amount of fatigue. "I'm so sorry for your loss. It's a hard thing to go through, I know," she gently reassured her, giving a friendly squeeze to her hand before releasing it and going back to restock the receipt paper.
"You know? Did ya lose your mother too?"
Breath caught in her throat. Albeit it being well over a year since her passing, the subject was still very raw. She halted her task to return Franny's gaze. "A year ago. She had terminal breast cancer," her voice deadpanned; she wasn't big on allowing her emotions out while at work, no matter how painful the subject.
It was Franny's turn to return the comforting touch; she let a hand cover cautiously over the taller woman's, patting it soothingly. She hadn't realized just how much she and her coworker had in common until right then. Not something either one of them wanted as a commonality but nonetheless it seemed to build a mutual understanding between the two, a friendship even. "I'm real sorry, hon. Wouldn't wish grief on anyone. My mom had terminal cancer, too, of the liver."
Suddenly, a lightbulb went mentally went off in Alex's mind. Finally, she made sense of Lorna's behavior from the other night that she and Nicky had spent at her house. She understood, then, why the teen had ventured off that night and her heart sank slightly in her chest. The mentioning of her mother and the cancer and death; it clearly triggered Lorna, she pieced together with everything she now knew.
"Would ya mind if maybe I go check on your sister?"
The question surprised Franny but she gave a nod. Maybe it was better Alex went after her—obviously Lorna wouldn't listen to herself anymore. She hoped that somehow Alex would be able to break through to her sister because she knew if she kept down that path, nothing good would come of it. "Sure, maybe she might actually listen to you. Thanks."
The rain had slowed to a drizzle when Lorna exited the coffee shop. For which she was grateful, it was cold enough without the rain coming down. With no plan of where to walk to next, she settled for sitting on a bench that was a few feet down the street overlooking a small pond. She ran a hand through her hair and exhaled a breath. Today went from shit to even shittier faster than she could run from one side of the street to the next. Her eyes looked down into the water where a few brightly colored fish swam about. She shuttered at the wind that came through and wondered how the hell those fish weren't dead yet.
As she watched the fish in a somewhat tranquil silence, the sensation of a warm liquid running along her cheeks brought a shock over her. She reached her hands up to wipe at her skin, not realizing she had been crying. A sigh flowed out. Of course, on some level she knew her mother wasn't ever coming back—that she was dead. But another part of her still held onto hope that that was all only a nightmare. That she would one morning awaken and her world would be back to normal—Mrs. Morello alive and well and Mikey home, never to enlist in the army in the first place.
The weight of another person occupying space on the bench brought Lorna rapidly from her thoughts. She cautiously turned her head and arched her eyebrows puzzlingly when she noticed who sat beside her was none other than Alex Vause. Another intense breath escaped up from her lungs. She didn't mean to give her such a scowling gaze, but her face seemed to act on impulse.
Inhabiting the spot beside the teenager, Alex turned her head to quietly observe her. There was an evident front put up, but it wasn't hard for her to see through to the pain. Pain that was all too familiar to her. Empathy shaped on her face and she placed a cautious—yet comforting—hand over on top of Lorna's. It was as though there was a mutual understanding between the two, even without needing to verbally acknowledge it. Both had suffered a great loss and that was a type of hurt that never truly went away.
"It's never easy," the black-haired woman broke the silence at last. She averted her eyes towards the pond that Lorna was staring at and watched as the fish swam about. "You'd think the fish would all be dead by now from the freezing weather, huh?"
Though the comment was meant light-heartedly, Lorna couldn't stop her body from wincing at the word dead. Dead, god, just hearing it made her want to be sick. It wasn't a very reassuring word to hear, ever, she believed. She sighed and tried to understand why her sister's coworker decided to join her in watching the poor fish float around in a pond that was not much warmer than the air around them.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable, however, it caused an eyebrow to curve inquisitively as her eyes gradually moved away from the pond to look at the young girl a few inches over. She seemed so timorous as she sat looking over the fish, not budging even a centimeter. Alex swallowed uneasily, she wasn't sure what there was for her to say that could ever help Lorna. She still was trying to come to terms with her own mother's death. But it was apparent—from both Franny's and Lorna's mouths—that the teenager wasn't even able to acknowledge that their mom had even died.
"I know what it's like to go through what you're going through," Alex tried again, keeping her voice no louder than a mere whisper.
Lorna gulped. She cautiously turned her head from the pond, glancing back at the black-haired woman. Her head shook impulsively, she refused to admit that the two of them were in the same situation. Maybe Alex was okay with referring to her mother as having passed on, but Lorna certainly wasn't. Because that would mean there was no chance of ever being reunited with Mrs. Morello, at least not there on Earth, and that wasn't anything she could stomach.
"I'm not sure what you're talkin' about," she finally found her voice.
As much as Lorna had tried to keep any emotions from displaying—whether it be in her voice or on her face—Alex was able to pick up on it rather easily. She didn't know if it was because she too struggled in a similar fashion when losing her own mom a year prior or if it was that Lorna just hadn't realized the faint tears which had stained her nearly translucent cheeks. Whatever the case may have been, she reached a vigilant hand over to rest consolingly over one of her cheeks. A thumb she used to delicately wipe at the few tears that bestow upon the flesh.
"It took me a while, too, to finally accept that my mom had died," Alex started again, letting blue eyes stare empathetically into the younger girl's. The sorrow that hid on her face, she noticed it and felt her heart constrict. She had a lump form in the pit of her stomach. Losing a parent was something that a person probably would never fully recover from, she supposed; the grief and sadness lingered, but the pain eventually lessened. Seeing Lorna's eyes move away, focusing anywhere else, Alex wondered if her words were having any impact at all. Despite the wonder, she decided to elaborate further. "Losing her was, without a doubt, the hardest thing I've ever gone through. She was my best friend, my rock and she devoted her life to making sure I was happy. And then one day, she got sick. The doctors found cancer and she deteriorated so fast, I felt like I didn't have enough time to even comprehend the diagnoses. It wasn't more than a matter of months before my mom was in hospice. Not a pleasant thing to watch happen. I didn't want to admit that she was dying and I didn't, not until the doctors and nurses were making comments here and there about end of life care. That's when it finally clicked in me that I was really losing my mom."
By that point, Lorna's attention had solely been on her—the story she shared captivated her consideration—and as her brown eyes silently observed over the woman, it wasn't difficult to notice the tears that gradually leaked along her cheeks. Albeit feeling slightly apprehensive, compassion overpowered her and led her to placing a tender hand over one of Alex's and giving it a comforting squeeze. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, moving her thumb back and forth over the knuckles on her hand.
Alex used her free hand to slick back her hair. No matter how long it had been since her mother's passing, talking about it never got any easier. It always left her as raw and broken as it had the night she received that god-awful call from the hospice center. That was a night she would never forget, no matter how hard she tried or how much she wanted to. It would always be ingrained in her mind. Something that she was still slowly coming to terms with. But, as she looked at Lorna, she knew that girl wasn't even close to accepting her own mother's death. The fact that she wouldn't even acknowledge it proved that point even further. And that only broke her heart for the young teen. She would never wish the loss of a loved one on anyone, not even an enemy. It wasn't something that healed easily, she came to realize. Furthermore, for Lorna, healing would take even longer since it appeared that she wasn't even at the point where she could at least only disclose that her mother had died.
"Thank you," was her barely above a whisper response. Her eyes lingered on the brunette, observing her intently. She wanted to help her but wasn't sure anything she said would make a difference—the two of them were barely acquaintances, why should Lorna even consider listening to her? In spite of the contradicting thoughts, the empathy that she held for the younger girl outweighed it all. "Were ya close with your mom?"
Were? Lorna shuttered at the question—the were, she knew, implied that her mother was no longer there for she to be close with and she hadn't been about to play into that. She couldn't. The tiny bit of hope that she still tightly clutched was the only thing that kept her from falling apart. She swallowed hard; falling apart was something she refused to allow happen to herself. "Of course, me and my mom are close. Very close," she emphasized the are, making sure the other knew that she had mistaken by assuming they weren't still close.
"I get it. I still feel close to my mom even though she's gone. It's not easy to go through; believe me, kid, I know it's not."
"But the difference between you and me is that my mom isn't gone. She'll be back from her business trip soon enough," Lorna quickly interjected, not wanting to give the older woman a second more to assume that they were dealing with similar happenings when that clearly was not the case.
Dismay displayed on Alex's face. No wonder her coworker always appeared fatigued and stressed, watching her sister live in denial of their mother's Earthly departure had to be wearing on her. But it must have been even more exhausting for Lorna to go through, she mused. "Lorna, I think deep down ya know that's not true. I get where you're coming from, I do, but to keep denying the fact isn't going to make anything change. It won't bring her back, unfortunately."
It was seemingly growing harder for Lorna to suck in any air. Her gut felt like it was on fire; she shifted the position of her legs as if that would somehow ease it. She swallowed roughly, trying to keep herself from exposing any emotion. In her heart, she knew everything Alex was saying was only the truth—that continuing to believe in the delusion that her mother hadn't died would only increase the grief and pain she endured. Such knowledge just intensified the trouble she had taking in a breath at that moment.
Though the younger girl refused to take into consideration the two of them were suffering through similar circumstances, the closer Alex looked her over, the more agony and weariness her eyes took note of. Loathing to see anyone so blatantly dejected, she let a hand reach over once more to lay upon Lorna's shoulder. She gave a comforting squeeze to it and hoped that at least, mentally, she was having some sort of impression on her.
"Does Nicky know? Have ya talked to her about it at least?" Eyebrows arched questioningly over her blue eyes. She knew the two of them were merely inseparable, it would only make sense that Nicky would be the one person Lorna felt comfortable confiding in over such a traumatic event.
Lorna would have laughed at the comment had she not cared to look a fool. But she refrained and instead used a hand to uncomfortably run through her hair, something she found herself doing a lot more often. "Does Nicky know what? That my mom's on a business trip? Course' she does," she quickly informed the other.
"Your Franny's younger sister, aren't you?" Even though she knew the answer, Alex thought that might be the only way to make her see that the façade she was putting up had no logical reasoning behind it.
The brunette nodded with an eyebrow curved ponderously; she folded her arms defensively over her chest. "Yeah, so, what's that gotta do with anything? Ya already know that, anyway."
"I just—can ya help me make sense of this? If you and Franny are sisters, don't ya have the same mom?"
"Well, uh, yeah duh. Why would ya even ask that?" Lorna kept her arms over her chest, using her hand to massage at her temples as she tried to gage where such an interrogation was leading to. There was an ache lurking between them, one she hadn't even noticed until right then.
Nodding gradually, Alex knew her plan was working. She reached her free hand up to push at her glasses so that they fell back on the bridge of her nose. "Because Franny's said your mom passed away from cancer…and you're insisting she's on a business trip. It doesn't make sense, kid. I think you and I both know which explanation is true, yeah? You're just not at a place where you can admit it, huh? I can relate to that, believe me."
Lorna sensed tears line the bottom of her eyelids but she held them back. She turned her head, in case the tears came anyway, looking down the street and watching as people strolled along the sidewalk, rain puddles sloshing about beneath their shoes. A lump was easily felt in her abdomen—a sensation that might as well have been entrenched in her brain by then. "I—the nurse, she never—I-I," the words refused to come out, she swallowed hard.
"She, she told me—I remember the nurse…I-I remember she said my mom was gone. Gone. Not dead. Gone," she mumbled, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Her eyes stayed focused on the hustle and bustle of the sidewalk. She never realized how busy the town seemed to get in the mornings.
It seemed like she finally had gotten through to the teenager, at least slightly. To hear her admit that the story of her mother's business trip hadn't been real was a step in the right direction, she believed. The shakiness in her voice, however, formed a twinge in her chest. She gently wrapped a comforting arm around Lorna's shoulder, naturally pulling her a little bit closer. "Yeah? Is that part of the reason you're uncomfortable saying she died? I know it's not an easy thing to do, kid. It really isn't," her voice was soft and warm as her eyes gazed down at her in compassion.
