Thomas
Momma and I sit together on the porch swing, gently swaying in the wind as she smiles out over the green expanse of the land as we rest in cool shade. Our feet sway above the ground as we sway a little higher than we probably should be. Momma had always liked living on the more exciting side of life, nothing dull could ever occur when in her presence. It is a trait that I hope she has passed on to me in some capacity. Her gentle blue eyes meet mine and I find myself to be swimming within their depths as she studies me.
"You have been awfully quiet." She muses.
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize, I wasn't accusing you of anything." She chuckles, her feet kicking up once reaching the arc of the swing, her toes pointing out into the air. "Whatever has kept you so quiet is obviously very effective. I can't remember any attempt I ever made when you were a baby to get you to be as quiet as this." I playfully glare at her as she chuckles. "What's on your mind?"
The desire to open up my heart and mind to my mother bursts open within my soul. Hesitation chains my lips closed as the eyes of Alexander appear before my eyes. Would he be understanding of me confessing the nature of our relationship not only to Burr and Washington but also to my family? I am already slightly fearful of what will be awaiting me when Alexander discovers that Washington is now very much aware of what we are to one another. Every horrible thing I can imagine Alexander doing to me in revenge doesn't seem harsh enough for his tastes. Momma arches an eyebrow at me as she notes my hesitant silence.
"I hesitate to say too much." I mutter. "There is a certain individual in my life who likes to keep their relationships with people painfully private."
"Painfully private." Her lips curl up at the corners. "That must be different for you." She chuckles slightly as I look at her confusedly. "You have to be the most transparent person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. You like to have your life broadcasted to the world, so there is very little confusion. Whoever this person is they surely must be putting you through your paces."
"If you only knew." I mutter.
"They sound like a good change for you."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Life is rather dull without any challenges or changes. You have tried to keep your life as constant as possible, a bit of change will be good for you in the long run." Her eyes narrow slightly as she studies me with a bright grin. "So, who is this mysterious individual?"
"I can't tell you that Momma." I groan, leaning back into the swing slowing down the swing with the added dead weight. "They would never forgive me for simply blurting it out."
"Are they special to you?"
"Yes."
"Then that will satisfy me for now." She reaches over and covers one of my large hands with her own. "I really am glad to see you Thomas. We have all missed you."
"I have missed y'all too." I murmur. "It's just hard to come out here...you know?"
"I understand." She hums, glancing out in the direction of the family cemetery. "I haven't been able to step foot out there for a few years now. He must be lonely without me visiting."
"Pop understands Momma." I comfort, gently squeezing her thin fingers.
"So does Martha." My chest tightens at the thought of Martha being so close by. What is left of her anyways. I can feel my blood begin to thicken and my heart begins to falter with the strain as my imagination begins to summon what she must look like now. "Would you be willing to accompany me there."
"Momma..."
"I won't force you." She murmurs as the swings slows to a gradual stop. "You are the only one of my children who is capable of understanding entirely what I am feeling. I wouldn't want to go there for the first time in several years with anyone else."
"I don't know if I can handle it." I murmur, my voice thickening as my throat constricts my airflow. She holds onto me tightly, silently reassuring me that she understands exactly how I am feeling. We sit in comforting silence, holding onto one another as we both think through what is to happen next. This is what I had been so terrified of when I had first been invited back here. What will happen if I somehow summon the strength to cross the distance and stand at her feet? My mind goes blank as I consider the possibilities of the destruction and growth that could come from such an experience.
"Thomas, remember to breath." Momma murmurs quietly, her eyes are distant as she looks out across the distance seeing the visage of a man who we can no longer see. I wrap both of my hands around her single hand, clutching it to my chest as my mind reels.
"I'll go."
"Are you certain?" I simply nod, for fear that speaking my answer aloud would cause me to lose my nerve. "Come with me." She slowly rises to her feet, allowing me to continue holding her hand prisoner between mine.
My body is trembling as we walk slowly through the garden leading to the family cemetery. Every emotion I had been struggling not to feel for the past three years has suddenly surfaced leaving me struggling to breathe as Momma grabs a few white roses as we pass through the giant passages of flowers. My heart is beating painfully in my chest the closer I draw. I want nothing more than to slip away and run back to the house, perhaps even back to the hotel, but the warm press of Momma's hand between mine keeps me here. If I run I won't be the only one who suffers from it.
We pass through the ornate gate into the cemetery and I feel my heart stop as Momma slips her hand out of mine. I stand frozen in place by the gate as she presses a few roses into my hands. My chest tightens as she walks over to the familiar location of my father's headstone. I look away, respecting her moment of grieving as I dare to take the first step towards Martha's gravestone.
Everything goes still once that stone comes into view. The world loses all sound as I stand there reading the inscription. I already know all of the information, but I can't seem to bring myself to look away from it. A warm breeze blows as the tears begin to fall, my skin prickling from the warmth that brushes over the back of my neck, lingering like a lover's caress. I sit down in front of the gravestone, setting down the roses one by one with silent praises of love and remembrance.
I sit in silence as tears slip past my lashes as my head dips down to my chest. Every emotion has been intensified a thousand fold as I sit here reminding myself where she is, where she has been for the past three years. Nothing has changed, yet some part of me was hopeful that she wouldn't be here after all. I'm a pathetically weak man, it has never been so clear than in this very moment.
"I'm sorry Martha, Alexander. You both deserve better." I whisper past trembling lips. The grief becomes too overwhelming, crashing against me like tidal waves knocking me over into the reef of emotional torment as I begin to openly weep into the still air. I can't stop myself and it feels as if it is right not to.
"Let go," I can hear her voice in my head as I sob uncontrollably, the tears running unabated. "He's waiting for you, I set you free." A ten ton weight has just been lifted off of my body as I lean forward slightly, reveling in the freedom of the feeling as I cry my heart out.