Reunion
by Ryan Usher

It was a quiet afternoon. Tommy Salsford walked down the neatly-groomed path, noting the muted nature and nodding in satisfaction. It was really fitting. Dark gray clouds shrouded the sky and kept the sun quite out of reach. Even if it had been out, it likely would not have taken the edge off of the wind, which gusted all along the path, scattering the dead leaves on the ground and forcing a few of their dying cousins to join them. It made his eyes water, and he drew his jacket around himself. He wasn’t wearing gloves, and found himself wishing he had, but it was too late now. He didn’t feel like going back, because he had someone to meet, and he didn’t want to be late. Or, at least, any later than he already was. At least he remembered the flowers. He didn’t remember what kind they were, only that they were pink, and pink was her favorite.

Four years.

Four years since his last and most venomous showdown with his father. The old bastard had told him countless times to shape up or get the hell out. Four years ago, Tommy did exactly that. He didn’t miss his father, even now. There was no regret in that regard. He felt no hatred toward his mother, but neither did he feel much love. She was quiet and often indifferent, and had made no attempt to convince him to stay that last time. So, he left. He called his buddy Nate, packed as much shit as he could fit into Nate’s pick-up, and said sayonara to Casa Salsford.

No regrets.

Except for one.

Tommy hadn’t thought much about it at the time, enraged as he was, but the other member of the Salsford family was quite outside the sphere of antipathy he felt for the others.

Cassie was eleven years old back then, tall for her age and just beginning to show the transition from childish prettiness to womanly beauty that was to take place over the next several years. When he last saw her, she was the only one that looked hurt. She was angry, too, angry at Dad for kicking him out, and angry at him for taking off. Tommy couldn’t give a rat’s ass what the old man felt, but seeing his sister like that tugged at his heart. Even at the age of seventeen, when he was known to keep company with pot-heads and vandals, and willingly participate with them, even when he felt he was King Shit of the Realm of Badass, he still loved his little sister.

That didn’t change. That’s why he was here, why he came back after four years. If not for Cassie, Tommy would have been perfectly content to have never stepped foot in this miserable shitstain of a town ever again.

He found the right place, and sat down on the cold ground and sleeping grass. There she was. He was overcome by many different kinds of emotions, none of them distinct, all of them a confusing jumble. He took a minute to compose himself. Life had put its edges on him, and he usually kept his feelings in check. Normally, that wasn’t very hard to do. Now, it suddenly felt like a mortal struggle.

“Hi, Cassie,” he said, “How have you been? I’ve missed you a lot. Always wanted to come see you, but the old man told me to never come back. I know he was serious about that, because I tried to call you twice. The first time, he told me to kiss his ass and hung up. The second time, I tried to pretend I was a friend of yours. He saw through it. Told me to go fuck myself. I don’t know why he hates me. What the hell did I do to him to make him like that?”

She didn’t answer, and he frowned.

“Sorry, kiddo. I didn’t mean to bring all that up. First time I’ve been around in forever, and I start talking like it was yesterday. Old wounds don’t heal quick, I guess. I’d have told you where I was if he’d have let me. I’d have given you an address or phone number or something. I should have tried writing you, never thought to do that before. Anyway, can’t do nothing about it now. I’m sorry, kid. I hope you don’t hold it against me.”

She didn’t.

“I wonder what you’ve been doing while I was gone. Studying hard, no doubt. Playing softball. Blowing that clarinet, or oboe, or whatever it was you had. I remember you used to sound like a duck with labor pains when you first got hold of that thing. Probably even had a boyfriend or two.

“I had some fun myself, once in awhile. Not all of it was good fun. You know the kind of crap I used to be into. Yeah, I kept right on with it for a little while. Then, one night a couple of years ago, me and some buddies got high and decided to rob a Seven-11. For kicks, you know. Childish bullshit, but I guess it’s kinda ironic. I grew up after that. We got caught. I ended up doing five months for that. I tell you, kid, I never felt as low as I did when they stuck me up in front of that judge. He was a hardass, too. He had his scissors and he right straight for the gonads. Gave me five months, and when I got out, I think I felt worse than I did when I got thrown out of the house. The old me would’ve gone right back to that same old shit. The new me didn’t, for whatever reason. I’m glad. I haven’t smoked a joint or anything in a year and a half. I got a job, too, doing construction. I bet the old man would shit bricks if he knew I was doing something that physical.”

There he was again. The old man. He couldn’t go five minutes without his father intruding upon his thoughts. It was understandable, given the situation. Things would have certainly been different had the old man not been such a horrific asshole every step of the way. A lot of things would have been different. Things that shouldn’t have happened, wouldn’t. Tommy didn’t know if this was one of those things, but even the possibility that it was made him hate his father even more, so much that he wanted to spit. He wouldn’t do that, though. Not here. Maybe there was no chance of ever reconciling. God knows the old man never bothered to try. Neither had he, really, though there were many times when the thought crossed his mind. As much as he demonized his father, Tommy knew that he himself wasn’t blameless for what happened. He hadn’t been a good kid. He had been nothing but trouble, really, and most people who knew him back then would have readily agreed.

Except Cassie.

“I think you were good enough for both of us, kid,” he said. “I’m sorry I was away so long. I knew I should have tried. I knew I should have ignored him at least enough to keep in touch. I owed you that much.” It was true, too. She had seen good in him that few others ever bothered looking for. Maybe it was because she brought it out in him. He never could be the trash-talking, roughneck son of a bitch he thought he was when she was around, even if his buddies were also present. He just couldn’t. It would have felt damned inappropriate in one of the few ways he cared about then.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I was too late. I don’t know if I would have been able to change things. I wish to God I could have. If I knew…” He stopped, because he didn’t know. He didn’t even know what he didn’t know. A tear welled up and rolled down his wind-beaten cheek, though the wind had nothing to do with its appearance. He let it go. There was no reason to hide it.

He knelt down, and said his next words in a near-whisper. Not because he was worried about anyone overhearing, but because it was simply too difficult to muster his full voice.

“I love you, Cassie. I love you and I’m sorry.”

He was such a liar. There were regrets. More than he could know.

He leaned forward and kissed her. The granite stone was cold and unyielding, but it didn’t make a difference. It was the best he could manage, though knowing that only made it hurt that much worse. He then traced his finger across his sister’s name, chiseled across the stone’s face.

Finally, he stood, and looked at the grave for a long time, trying his best to find some meaning in what he saw. He knew now that he would never see any of his family again. His father made absolutely sure of that. That he never even bothered informing Tommy about what happened only made it clear how deep and how wide the rift was. There was no going back.

He laid the flowers at the base of the gravestone, and his last words to her were the same as the last words he had spoken to her four years earlier.

“Good bye, Cassie.”

He then turned, and started back down the long path to his waiting car.