Элла Франк - Exquisite

"Wait a minute," he interrupted in an icy cold voice. "You're telling me that you and my mother talked about her dying and didn't think to include her kids?"

Lena swallowed and gripped her hands in front of her, not really knowing how to handle him at this point. So she decided her best bet was to just answer him. "Yes."

She watched as he clenched his teeth and his jaw flexed. He raised a hand and rubbed it over his eyes. Turning back to look out the window he dropped the hand back down and whispered in the coldest tone she’d ever heard. "Get out."

Lena felt like he had reached out and slapped her. She winced at his words and swallowed. She moved to take a step forward. "Mason."

"Don't touch me." he said enunciating every word. "Go get your bag and get out."

"Please let me,"

"Let you what?" he demanded spinning around to face her. She took a step back looking up at him with tears running down her own cheeks, but he was beyond reason and beyond caring. "Lie to me? Hide things from me?" Shaking his head he spat out, "I'm so fucking stupid! I thought you trusted me. I thought you felt the same way about me as I do about you!"

She tried again to reach out but he just glared at her.

"I thought you fucking loved me!"

She flinched back and took a step away feeling everything inside her come crashing down. Tears flowed freely from her now. Tears for Catherine, her sudden death and the unfairness of it. Tears for Mason who was so hurt he couldn't even stand in front of her and understand, and tears for them. For what could’ve been before it was torn away and she’d even been able to tell him what he meant to her.

"Why are you still here Lena? Get out!"

Turning she ran to the door and grabbed her keys, fumbling around with the handle she finally got it opened and turned back to see him facing the window. She let out a strangled sob and fled his condo.

Mason was livid. He couldn't believe what Lena had just told him and although he was still in the middle of even beginning to understand his grief, this anger felt good. It felt easier to take a hold of and to drown in.

Staring out the window he saw Lena crossing the street below and he clenched his teeth remembering her words, I know. Two little words and his whole world had fallen apart. How could she have not told him? How could she have kept something like that a secret? If only he had known. If he had known he could've. Could've what? He thought, and then before deciding there would’ve been nothing he could have done, he went back to his anger.

She was wrong. She’d fucked up and done something so tragically wrong he didn't think he could ever forgive her and with the way he felt right now he honestly never wanted to see her again. He pushed aside her face and the pain he’d seen on it when he’d told her to leave, and refused to feel sorry for her. He had other things he needed to do, other people to think about. Bringing a hand up to his face he turned and walked to the phone knowing the next thing would be the hardest.

He needed to call Rachel over in Italy and tell her to get on a plane and come home, and she was going to want to know why, and he would tell her, and then she would spend eight hours on an airplane in agony and alone.

The next day Lena was still curled up in her bedroom. She’d called in sick and decided to stay home. Away from questions, away from people and away from Shelly. He hadn't called. For some reason she’d thought he would, but he hadn't. She was starting to realize that he’d meant every word he’d said to her last night. At first she’d thought it was the grief talking, after all she’d literally wandered the streets after Carly's death, until Catherine had taken her in. That was not the case though, she was now coming to understand. Mason really had broken up with her. He had cut all ties, she knew that because she’d tried calling his phone only to discover it had been disconnected. Rolling over in her bed she squeezed her eyes shut and cried again, she was starting to wonder if she would ever stop.

Mason was trying really hard to hold it altogether. He was standing by Rachel and on the other side of him was Wendy and her husband. Everyone else was just a blur. In front of him was a dark mahogany casket that was covered in bright tulips of every shade. He’d picked them because they were his mother's favorite and the wood of the casket was what she would’ve wanted. She had always commented on the bar in his restaurant and how lovely and smooth the wood had felt under her hands.

He felt Rachel squeeze his fingers as the minister started the service. Mason's eyes stayed on the flowers the whole time. He couldn't bare to look at anyone else, he didn't want to feel their pity or their sorrow, so he just focused on the tulips. He listened as the minister spoke of what a wonderful and warm soul his mother had been and how kind and open she was with everyone she met, which brought to mind Lena. He pushed her out of his thoughts and gripped Rachel's hand harder.

It’d been a week now since he’d told her to leave and he hadn't seen or heard from her and that had been the longest stretch of time they’d been apart since they had started seeing one another. Feeling Rachel sob and hearing the minister now give his mother over to the earth he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her in tight, in a way it was helping hold him together to hold her close. Finally the funeral was over, and everyone was walking back to their cars to make their way to the restaurant where they were holding a small gathering for friends and family.

"Do you want me to wait for you?" Wendy asked looking over at him.

He shook his head and looked down to Rachel, "No but can you take her back with you?"

She reached out and took Rachel's hand in hers, "Sure. Come on hon."

He watched as they linked hands and walked over to one of the remaining cars. When he was left standing next to the fresh dirt he finally let himself cry again. He’d known he would but he’d wanted to be strong the last few days for his sister, and to get the necessary things done. His heart ached with the burden of things to come and the loss of his beloved mother.

Shifting a little to the left he caught some black out of the corner of his eye. Believing himself to still be alone he was surprised when he turned to see Lena standing at the back of the rows of chairs that had been lined up. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun that sat low on her neck and she was wearing a long sleeve black dress that was cut just below her knees. In her hand she held one sunflower and she stood frozen to the spot. He couldn't see her eyes because they were covered by sunglasses but he felt them on him, watching warily as though she wasn't sure of the reception she would get.

Turning back without saying a word he felt her move closer. It seemed like an eternity when he felt her finally stop beside him. He didn't turn and didn't say anything so when she spoke he was surprised.

"I know you don't want me here." she paused as if waiting for him to confirm her statement, but he could neither confirm or deny it, because he couldn't answer it himself.

"I just wanted to pay my respects and bring her the one gift she has always given to me."

How could he possibly argue with that? He’d known Lena had shared a distant but loyal friendship with his mother for years before becoming almost a part of their family. Watching her bend down, to place the bright yellow sunflower on the brown dirt, he sucked in a deep breath. He knew how hard it was for Lena to visit cemeteries. He knew she didn't deal with death well, especially of loved ones. He knew that right now his abandonment in the face of losing Catherine had to be killing her, but there she was placing the flower down for his mother. He was about to say something, he didn't know what, when she stood back up and faced him.

"I know you're angry at me but I'll be here when you're ready."

Looking down at her he wanted to tell her that may be never. How could he forgive her for not telling him his own mother was sick? Instead he stayed silent and watched for the second time as she walked away.

Three weeks passed and Lena found herself going through the motions of living but deep down inside she felt as though she were dead. Not only had she lost Catherine, who was probably the only person in the world who had understood her before Mason, she had lost him too. She hadn't heard anything from him, not a single word. Really she hadn't expected to but knowing it and then living it were two totally different things.

He was gone, Shelly would tell her, you need to accept it and move on. Lena wanted to do just that, the problem was, she didn't know how. Brushing past Brandy, who was already at her desk this morning, Lena noticed she’d gone back to wincing whenever she looked at her. For awhile there Brandy had smiled back, that was during the period of time she now referred to as, The Mason Period. Slouching down in her chair she opened her email and read one from McKinney about cocktail hour for Thanksgiving, groaning Lena clicked it open and winced when she saw the location, of course, 8pm at Exquisite.

Mason was drunk. He’d been surviving on frozen dinners and expensive alcohol and right now he was around half way through one expensive bottle of scotch. He was sitting in the kitchen of Exquisite with the bottle in his hand watching his employees work around him. This had become a new habit for him. He'd given up his spot at the pass, claiming he'd prefer to give someone else the experience, however that had just been a way to sit down every night, which was helpful since he could almost guarantee he would more than likely fall down. He watched as Rachel walked over to him with her apron around her waist and a frown on her face.