Free The Face In The Mirror by Barbara Stewart Page B

the wine to the bathroom for you, I needed to use the
restroom and I went in your mom’s bedroom. It was on the table beside her
bed. I noticed it as I walked by.”
“Are you kidding me? Because it wasn’t there the last time I was here! It
wasn’t, Mitchell!” I wailed.
“I saw it as soon as I opened the door, Renie. Maybe Midge did it when
she stopped over before we came,” he said.
“No, Mitchell! It had to be Mom. Midge wouldn’t have just gone looking
for it to put it there!”
“She knew I’d come, Renie. Your mom knew I’d come for you.”
“Are you saying that the pills and the booze were intentional?” I sobbed.
“No,” he said pulling me close. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Maybe
she was reminiscing and pulled it out of a drawer or something.”
“Oh, my God, Mitchell, my mom.”
As I cried, I hated my dad even more for driving her to that place. I took
the picture from him and wiped my eyes, looking at the two people we used to
be. As I did, the timer went off indicating that the stuffed shells were done.
I put the picture aside. Numbly, I went to take the pan of shells from the
oven. I finished preparing the meal I’d planned, but I didn’t speak. I wasn’t sure what to say. My head felt like a blender full of emotions, whirling every which
way. I’d known that being here would be emotional, but I never dreamed it
would be like this.
Mitchell was very understanding, but most of all he was patient, not trying
to engage me in conversation. I think he sensed I wasn’t capable of talking right
now. He got the bottle of wine he’d opened earlier, poured two glasses and
took them to the table. Finally, everything was ready and we sat down to eat.
Neither of us had said a word for the last ten minutes and it was bordering
on uncomfortable. I wanted to make sure that he understood that it wasn’t him
that caused my emotions; it was the situation. But I guess in a way he was part
of the mix. Thinking about what is, what was, and what might possibly lie
ahead, had my head spinning even more.
I wouldn’t say that I’m a religious person, but I am a woman of faith. I
grew up in the church, but I quit attending, as I got older. I never lost my faith
or my beliefs, I just didn’t feel the need to go somewhere for organized
worship. As I looked at Mitchell, I dropped my head and said a silent prayer - a
prayer for peace and understanding, and a prayer to get our weekend back on
track, because I did not want to push him away again.
“What’s on the agenda after dinner,” Mitchell finally asked, trying to ease
the tension.
“I’m sorry,” I said finally. “You don’t need to walk on eggshells. I’m just
overwhelmed by all of this. I’m OK. I really just needed time to process the
picture, try to understand what it all meant.”
“Want to walk down to the beach when we’re done and clear your head?
It’s the 4 th , maybe there will be fireworks that we can see.”
“We can walk down there, but I’m gonna tell you that if we do, I’m going
to run. I’m going to run, yell, and scream.”
“If that will help, I’ll run, yell, and scream right along with you. Someone
may call the po-po and we could wake up in the hoosegow.”
    It turned out that a walk in the quiet was all I really needed. When we
returned, Midge was walking toward the door.
“Well, this is a nice surprise!” she grinned.
“Oh Midgey,” I said. “You caught us!” It was a comment that had all of us
laughing. “Come on in.”
“I’ll pour some wine,” Mitchell said, leaving to give us a minute alone.
“Wow, you’ve been busy.”
“I kinda want to get it over with,” I said honestly. “But I haven’t gotten as
much done as I’d hoped.”
“Too many distractions?” she asked, looking toward Mitchell with that
shit-eating grin that she was so good at.
“That too, but I’m glad he’s here - for many reasons.” I said and went to
the end table where I’d placed the