I'm so sorry for the ridiculously long-awaited update.
I'll try to be better!
And sorry for the multiple emails that say "New Chapter." My computer was being really stupid.
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"What? No lecture from you this time? Is the apocalypse coming?"
Lucy gave her brother a light smack, but smiled.
"Did it ever occur to you that I missed my own brother, enough for me to drive out to the middle of nowhere and bring him back for the summer?"
"I was going to drop in sometime…"
"You must be running out of money." Max flashed her a sheepish grin.
"You know me too well, sister dear."
She chuckled knowingly. He sighed and slid down in the passenger seat so that he could rest his long legs on top of the dashboard. He closed in his eyes with intentions of dozing off, but he was rudely interrupted by his sister's hand.
"I'm not going to drive the whole way, you know. I drove the whole way down, so I expect you to at least do half-way back."
"But...you're the better driver," he said, knowing that was probably the worst excuse he could possibly come up with, not that he actually minded driving. He just enjoyed giving his sister a hard time.
"Who drives the taxi?"
"Drove, sister of mine. I'm well beyond those days…but I guess if I have to, we'll switch when we stop for gas."
She nodded, and he emitted a small groan.
"Fuck, the last time I drove a taxi was…shit, I'm getting old."
"So am I. Can't believe I'll be thirty five next month." Max sunk farther into the seat and curled himself into a ball, pressing his hands against his ears.
"Oh my God, we're turning into our parents." Lucy laughed.
"Not quite. We're not old enough for AARP. That's when you know we're over the hill."
He uncurled out of his ball, but as he sat up, his eyes looked tortured. She looked over at him for a moment, slightly concerned. She knew there were times when he was perfectly fine one second, and completely immersed in a nightmare the next.
"What is it?" she asked.
"…I'm…I'm just imagining us when we're eighty."
Lucy rolled her eyes and sighed, but it was out of relief.
"See, you'll be able to settle into old age easy. Jude? Fuck, he'll still be thinking we're the new kids on the block with the hippie shit. Those blasted wipper-snappers down the street think they're cool with their marijuana…they haven't done ANYTHING until they've tripped out on LSD!" he said, impersonating Jude in a wobbling, "old-man" voice, scrunching his face up and holding an imaginary cane.
She smacked him, but they both laughed. He was probably right. Jude had become slightly angry at the fact that a new generation of hippies, or bohemians as they were called now, was "replacing" them. His once-called modern art was considered old. Good, but old. There were other outlets, mostly young, innovative artists as he had once been, that the art shops could go to.
"Well, it's been lovely talking to you, sis, but if you don't mind, I didn't get much sleep last night," Max yawned, turning over to face the window.
"What? All the oodles of hookers wear you out?"
He didn't exactly say "yes," but he made a small noise in agreement and grinned. She shook her head in exasperation, but she hadn't realized until now how much she had missed her brother's antics.
--
"Well, this is it," said Rose as she opened the trunk to the taxi. Michelle looked up at the run-down tenant building, raising her eyebrows in slight disdain.
"This is it?" Her mother noticed the scorn in her tone. Handing her one of her suitcases, she put an arm around her shoulders.
"I know it doesn't look like much, but wait until you get upstairs." Michelle shrugged and the two of them walked in. The Village was only a couple hours from their home, but Michelle had only been to Lower Manhattan. She couldn't believe how much the upscale Manhattan differed from the avant-garde East Village. Drab, but elegant pastels transformed into rich, vibrant colors. So, despite the shambled-looking tenant house, so far, Michelle was definitely impressed and amazed.
Rose put her daughter's suitcase and duffel bag at the bottom of the stairs, wiping her hands and straightening up.
"I've got my stuff in the car, can you take these things up? The room is 905," she asked.
"Sure. Where's the elevator?"
Rose grimaced. "Um…there isn't an elevator, dear." Michelle looked up the winding staircase in dismay and sighed, picking up her bags and muttering various expletives under her breath as she made her way up the endless steps.
Just when she thought they were never going to end, she finally arrived at the ninth floor. She dropped her bags and panted heavily, trying to catch her breath. Her mother appeared moments later, burdened with her many bags and looking as worn out as she was.
"I can't believe you lived here…like did this every day," Michelle said dubiously.
"Believe me, it was not a fun experience." Rose heaved her bag-laden body over to the door, her daughter right behind her, and knocked.
A striking older woman answered the door. She had thick, fiery red curls that cascaded down her back, though a little gray showed at her roots. Her bright, hazel eyes seemed as fiery as her hair, and she was wrapped in a pink, silk bathrobe. She smiled warmly at them.
"Rose!" she exclaimed in a smoky voice before embracing her mother firmly. Eventually noticing the multiple bags slung across her shoulders, she took a few of them off.
"Here, let me get those," she said, and both of them walked in, Michelle following behind. They set all of their bags down by the door, probably to move them once they got settled.
The woman turned to Michelle and grinned. "You must be Michelle," she said, wrapping her arms around her. Michelle stiffened, feeling a bit awkward at this gesture. The woman laughed a little as she felt her tense up.
"Honey, you probably don't remember me, you were barely tottering around the last time I saw you. I'm Sadie," she said. "Sorry…probably scared the shit out you."
"Yeah," Michelle chuckled. "Just a bit, but it's okay."
"I need to talk to your mom about something…why don't you look around?" Michelle shot an inquisitive glance towards her mother, but she merely shrugged and gave a gesture of encouragement.
As Sadie pulled Rose aside, Michelle found her way into the kitchen, and was a bit taken aback. This was no ordinary kitchen. Effervescent splashes of color covered the walls, twisting and twirling their way over the wood cabinets, and even down onto the linoleum floor in places. It was more a piece of art than a kitchen.
"That would be Jude's work," said a voice behind her. She turned and a small, pretty Asian woman smiled at her from her position on the doorframe.
"Jude?" She vaguely remembered hearing about him.
"Yeah…said he got bored once and just started painting…must be an artist thing…he's the Brit, you'll meet him later. I'm Prudence, by the way," she said, walking over to her and giving her a hug.
"God…" she commented, pulling away from her and taking a good look. "You look just like Rosie…except for those of course." She pointed to her eyes, to which Michelle couldn't help but smile.
Sadie appeared with her mother moments later.
"Okay, Pru, what did you tell her?" asked Rose with a smirk.
"Oh, nothing, just about how she's the spitting image of you," She gave Michelle a wink, "and Jude's random doodles on our walls…where is he, anyway?"
And just as quickly as she arrived, she departed, screaming Jude's name at the top of her lungs. Michelle exchanged confused, but amused glances with her mother.
"Here one minute, gone the next…" Sadie chuckled to herself. "Is all you've seen is the kitchen?" Michelle nodded. "Well, let me give you the rest of the tour, then."
She led them throughout the apartment, which was surprisingly small considering the amount of people it held. Nevertheless, it was much like the kitchen in that it was bursting with color and life. And the various tenants she noticed while walking through seemed to fit right in with the apartment.
Rose turned behind her to watch her daughter look around in awe. "How do you like it so far?"
"It's…trippy," she said in approval. Her mother grinned brightly, and it dawned on Michelle how happy this place must have made her. Then I came along she thought bitterly to herself. But she knew that that fault did not rest on the shoulders of herself or her mother…well, at least partially.
As they came through the living room, a handsome brunette, looking about the same age as Rose, lay sprawled on the couch, a sketchbook in his lap. When he looked up at the new arrivals, he grinned widely and stood up.
"Rosie…god, it's been forever, hasn't it?" he said, embracing Rose tightly and giving her a friendly kiss. From the sketchbook that was in his lap and the unmistakable Liverpudlian accent, Michelle could only assume this to be Jude.
Once he pulled away from Rose, he turned to Michelle and beamed.
"'Chelle? Bloody hell, you've grown up," he said. "I'm –"
"Jude. Jude Feeney," Michelle answered for him. She glanced down at the attire he was wearing. "Never seen without charcoal or paint stains on his clothes."
He chuckled, giving her hair a light ruffle. "Hmph…get that from your mum, did you? Well, that wouldn't be the only thing you got from her. You're just as gorgeous as she was…is."
Rose scowled for a moment, but it was instantly replaced by a smile.
"So, where's your lovely lady?"
"Erm…" he glanced over at Sadie hesitantly.
"She's picking up Max," she answered for him. Rose turned a furious shade of scarlet.
"Is that going to be a major problem?"
"No, no, no," she muttered. "It would've been nice to know before hand, though."
Sadie sighed and shrugged indignantly. "Honey, I figured you would connect the dots and realize that Max did live here, too."
"I know, it's just…" she trailed off, groaning in frustration. Jude, who looked like he was fighting a grin, hesitantly inquired:
"Let me guess, you had to get the bugger out of another fix?"
She nodded and rolled her eyes. Every one the room, except for Michelle, tried their best to suppress their giggles, but were failing quite miserably.
"What?" Rose retorted, scowling a little.
"It's kinda funny how much you do for him," Prudence commented, coming out of another room and plopping down on the sofa. "I thought you hated his guts."
"I don't hate his guts, but I'm not particularly fond of him at the moment-"
"Rosie," Jude said in exasperation. "Anyone who goes through that much shit for one bloke must have some affection for the man."
Rose was about to protest, but Sadie waved her arms to stop them. "Guys, guys, she just got here. Let's not have her arrive and leave on the same day. And poor 'Chelle probably thinks we're all nuts."
They all turned to look at the teenager, who shrugged somewhat indifferently.
"Anyway, let's move your stuff into Pru's room, Rose, and 'Chelle…hmm…well, your dad's room is empty right now, but do you mind…?"
"I'll stay there until he comes, then we'll figure something out," Michelle said, to Sadie's relief. She went back to into the hallway to get her things, and moved them into her father's bedroom.
Just by the look of the room, she could tell this is where her father resided. Drawers, some still with clothes in it, stood ajar, and old bottles of beer and ashtrays littered the floor, dresser, and windowsill. As she began to move some of his clothes out of the way for her own, she picked up a particular one with quizzical curiosity. It looked like a woman's shirt. It was beautiful, deep purple with blue fringing the ends of the sleeves, it's silky material coming well down past her waistline. She slipped it on for the hell of it, and the way it fit her and the way it was cut, it was definitely a woman's shirt.
She shrugged and figured it was either her mother's or some other lovely lady who had left it in here by accident. She finished moving his things and stuffed her clothes haphazardly into the drawers, shutting them with great effort.
She flopped unceremoniously onto the bed, her dark hair spilling out behind her. Even his bed smelled like him. A faint scent of cigarettes mixed with something she couldn't place…probably cologne. She sighed and rolled over on her side, twisting a strand of hair around her finger.
She couldn't explain how she felt about her father being here. Part of her was hesitant; things were definitely still awkward between the two. Part of her was a little disappointed; she had come here with her mother to escape the problems that seemed to follow him. But part of her was glad. She did want to get to know him better, even if he had never been there for her earlier. He was witty and charming; she understood why her mother, or any girl for that fact, had become so smitten with him.
But how would this work with her mother around? Would they both end up in tears and on their way back to Jersey? Or could they find a way to work this out?
All she could do right now was wait, and she had the feeling no matter what happened, it was sure to be interesting.
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There.
I'm sorry you had to wait so long.
Please review!