Page 104 of The Leaves In Autumn
“Pass the wine,” Dad says, reaching across the table.
We sit around Nobel’s big dining room table. Amid our delicious meal, the wine is poured, refilling empty glasses. We are all here, marking the shitty occasion of saying goodbye. As a family. There’s already been a few tears, but it is about to get worse. Mom stands and raises a glass.
“I can’t help feeling sad. Really sad. We are about to be without the delightful company of my grandsons, and Tyler and David, and our friend, Barbra. It will be a great loss. Immeasurable. Oh my God.” She waves off her tears. “Don’t mind me. I just love you all. Here’s to your happiness.”
Layla starts with the tears, but she pretends it isn’t happening. There is just an occasional swipe across her cheek, and a dab of her napkin. Teddy and the boys are the only ones in control of their emotions.
“We’re just going back to college! I’ll see you in a few months!”
“It’s too long! Please keep up the weekly calls, Teddy and Sam. We aren’t getting any younger.”
Whenever Mom starts with thewe are getting closer to deathtalk, it makes me uncomfortable. Truth hurts much too much sometimes. Manipulation or not, she is right. Plopping in her chair is proof enough she is feeling the wine’s effects tonight.
Barbra finds it poignant. She reaches out a hand.
“Thank you, Aurora.”
Mom touches her heart.
“Don’t worry, Grand-mere,” Teddy says. “You and Papa aren’t going anywhere.”
Dad takes over. He is in no better shape, but it does not bother him in the least. The tears will not be denied. It is a badge of honor for the man.
“First of all, I do not share the same fears as Aurora. The boys are where they should be, doing what young men do. I miss you all. But c’est la vie. Such is life.”
“We’ll send pictures, Papa!” Sam laughs.
“Just the naughty ones, please.” He pauses. “For my sculptures.”
It even makes Mom laugh. He continues by putting a hand on Barbra’s shoulder.
“I want to honor this beautiful spirit that has come into the Lyon pride.” He starts to cry more, and does it dramatically, head leaned back. “Why she must leave us, I don’t know.”
I look at Barbra and she is crying too. It looks better on her. Even crying, there is a certain beauty. She’s dressed in black loose slacks and a body-hugging turtleneck sweater to match. It is horribly on target. I am in mourning. But at the same time, I want more of her. Better look away before I join them.
“But apparently, we all must accept and support the decisions each of us make. At least that’s what I have been instructed to do,” he says, looking at my mother. She nods in agreement and it brings a little levity to the moment.
“Anyway, I do sincerely wish you well, mon amie. You will always be in our thoughts and forever in our hearts. If ever you get a little lonely, call! We will talk you down from the Arc de Triomphe.”
There are a few giggles. Not for me. Then he adds a final thought.
“I mean, it would be better if you had a companion on your journey.” He looks at me. “But it’s none of my business,” then back to Barbra, “I respect your decisions and ability to reason.”
What the hell! Poor Barbra looks stunned and about to laugh. That’s exactly how I feel. Van’s already doing it. Along with the young ones. They think he’s a fucking genius, to have the balls to say what everyone is thinking. I must stop this.
“Barbra knows her mind. She is an independent, strong woman, Dad. You should recognize that. Have you met my mother?”
“You told me,” he mutters under his breath. Mom pulls at the back of his shirt, and he sits.
“Thank you, Gaston. That was mostly lovely,” Barbra says, relaxing the mood.
“Yeah, Papa! You tell her!” Sam adds chuckling.
David thinks he’s funny as shit and nearly shoots Pepsi out his nose.
“I want to say something.”
Barbra stays seated and pretends to be in control. Wish I could comfort her.
