T W E N T Y - S E V E N

Start from the beginning
                                    

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Here, come get this for me." Her mother disappeared into the closet. She wore an emerald green gown that hugged her small frame. Her movements were delicate in her heels and so natural that Sid peeked to see if she somehow slipped into flats during the night. No. Tanya's four-inch heels were firmly strapped to her feet. Sidney followed behind her and cringed every time her own heels made a clunking sound on the hardwood floor. She purposefully planted her feet with each step to keep from teetering over. She sounded like a wounded horse approaching the closet but it was the best she could do.

Inside, Tanya was peering up at a gold box that was resting on the top shelf of the closet. Sidney moved to the side and with one easy reach, she pulled the box down and handed it to her mother who quickly opened the box.

"Aren't these beautiful? They're for our survivors." Four gold broaches in the shape of monarch butterflies laid on satin cloth inside the box.

"They are." Sidney's voice was strained. Survivors. For years her mother celebrated people who faced their trauma head-on and broke through to live a full life again. Sid was sure that tonight's speech would include something about her. Painting her as this person who, after witnessing her father's tragic death, had fallen into depression and post-traumatic stress that manifested in a fear of trains. But through rigorous therapy had overcome her fears. It was mostly a lie. Yes, Sid had gone to therapy. Yes, she had managed to ride two full stops on a train two years ago before having a full meltdown that resulted in her being escorted from the station by paramedics. No, she had not been able to get on a train since. Nonetheless, her mother was dedicated to telling a story of triumph in the face of adversity even it meant that Sidney could never face her trauma with truth.

The truth had been only feet away from Sidney this week. The man with the scar was real. His face wasn't an ache dulled by time. Now, his face burned in her memory. Ignited again. Sidney took a deep breath.

"Ma...do you remember—"

"There you are! Everyone is seated and being served. We're ready to start the program."

Sidney shut her eyes to keep from rolling them. Both Sidney and Tanya turned toward the door.

"Yes, I was just grabbing the broaches for the ladies." Her mother said before putting the lid back on the box and making her way over to him. Sid watched as Regis snaked his way around her mother's waist and pulled her in for a quick peck on the lips. He smiled and looked towards her.

"You look stunning, Sidney."

"Thank you." Sidney's jaw flexed as she ground her teeth together. Now she remembered the last time she had to wear a dress and heels like this. It was for their wedding. Sidney found it convenient that her mother and Regis started dating only a year after he represented her in her lawsuit. Even more peculiar that they were married just a month before the money hit Tanya's bank account. He was a great lawyer and that made Sidney trust him even less. Sidney believed the story of them falling in love after spending hours and months on the case just as much as she believed that her dad accidentally fell onto those tracks six years ago.

"We can talk after. You're staying over right?" Tanya asked expectantly. There was no way Sidney was staying in this house. She hadn't since she stormed out three months pregnant with AJ and she wasn't going to start now.

"Yeah." Lying was always easier between them. Regis escorted her mother out of the room, leaving her in the expansive closet full of more clothes than Sidney had ever owned. She shuffled over to the vanity and settled down into the seat in front of the mirror to remove her shoes. Her feet were aching. She threw her heels onto the floor and massaged her toes.

"This is ridiculous." Sidney looked around the garishly large closet with disgust. It could seriously be another bedroom. Her eyes landed on a corner of the closet. A stack of fedora hats sat there neatly. She squeezed her eyes shut. This was not the time for a breakdown. Do not go there. It had been a few weeks since her last one. It was inevitable. What she'd been through for the past few weeks was too much for anyone let alone someone who's mental state was stuck on fragile. 

After three deep breaths, she peeled open one eye. The hats were still there. Taking tentative steps toward the corner she reached out a hand and touched the one on top. It was real. Not some terrifying trick of her mind. It was similar to the one he was wearing that day but the feather was different. Sid wondered where that hat was. Didn't the police take it? Was it left there to be swept into the trash later that day? The thought of the piece of him on the top of a heap of trash made her heartbreak.

Her fingers grazed the fabric of the hat before she picked it up. Her first instinct was to bring it to her nose. Her chest tightened when her father's scent filled her nostrils. These were definitely her dads and something in her warmed to know that her mother had them. So close. Not in a basement or attic beneath a layer of dust but right here in the closet that she dressed in every day.

Clapping erupted from downstairs. Sid barely registered the sound as she focused on a trunk that the hats rested on. Only a second later she found herself tugging at the handle of the trunk to pull it open. She didn't know what she'd find but hoped that it would hold more pieces of her father.

A croak escaped her throat. She pulled a white coat out of the trunk and knew immediately what it was. She tugged it up out of the trunk and pressed it against her body. It still smelled like him. Sauce stained from one of the last meals he could still peppered the front.

Tears were there before she gave them permission to fall. It felt like a dam opening. She hugged that jacket and let it flow. Her knees sank into the carpet and her tears stained it after. Another round of clapping sounded from downstairs. She wiped the tears away and peered back into the trunk. Photos littered the bottom of the trunk. Mostly pictures from her parent's many nights out on the town. Them at different clubs. She wiped her eyes and thumbed through a few photos. She heard the footsteps approaching as she reached in to grab a handful of pictures. Her mom and dad were a beautiful couple. One photo showed the facade of the building they grew up in. Her parents were there with laughter in their eyes surrounded by a group of people.

The footsteps were getting closer but were soon silenced by the ringing in her ears. Her thumbs stopped sifting through the photos. The back of her neck ran hot with fear. Sid was afraid she was no longer breathing. Looking at the picture she feared she was hallucinating. But she wasn't. Just as real as her father's hats spread around her, and the slick fading gloss of the photo she held. Standing just a few people away from her dad was the man with a scar on his face.

Sid shoved the picture down the front of her dress and closed the trunk just as Whitney turned the corner.

"You ditched me." Whit's lips pulled together in a pout.

"I found some of dad's things." Whitney's eyes turned sympathetic as she scanned the hats and the chef's coat on the floor. She sank down onto her knees to touch the items for herself. She was quiet and Sid was grateful. They sat there for a bit. Sidney was sure that Whitney's thoughts going back to the past. Memories of the times they spent with him. But Sid's thoughts were hurtling toward the future, trying to decide how to move forward knowing that her dad knew Kru. 

I mean

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I mean....can sis get a break? Sid keeps peeling back more layers. The past refuses to stay in the past. Thanks for reading ya'll! I'll try to post another chapter mid week. 

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