Leonardo

Family get-togethers were rare for us but whenever they did, it was at my mother's behest.

On her fiftieth birthday, all mom wanted was a quiet lunch with her sons. It was easy for me to comply since the only source of distraction at my place went to meet with her father. Within minutes of her departure, I was greeted with a surprise call.

"This call is to inform you about your new schedule, Sergeant. There've been some unusual developments at the war front. Since you have volunteered before, we are reassigning you before the allotted timeline."

My ears rang the news but my vision intensified on Zemira's hairbrush that rested in my room. One tiny thing of hers had the power to make me ponder over my decision.

"Is there any chance-"

"This call is based on your confirmation to be called back in case of urgency, Sir." The voice on the other end sounded apprehensive as if he was taken aback that the man who promised to rejoin whenever asked for suddenly had a life to enjoy. Remorse filled me up, thinking about the promises I would be breaking with Zemira.

"Sir," the operator cleared his throat, driving his point home.

I had no choice. This call was merely a formality.

"How much time do I have?"

"Your reporting will be in a month, sir."

~

Antonio and Dad were busy in meetings to bother with Mother's birthday celebration. So with a bouquet and a neatly wrapped gift that took a whole hour to be pieced together, I drove over to the mansion. 

Unlike all her other social events, Mom didn't want a lot of people around. Truth be told, I felt as if she didn't want to reveal the deteriorated state of her marriage to the world.

Dave Brenton was a stud for the media. He was praised for his philanthropic work, helping the needy and rising to fame through hard work. Only behind closed doors of the Brenton mansion would his worldly attire shed and his true self crawl out.

Our father never cared for anything unless it had an added benefit for him or his business. We, as a family appeared at the bottom of his priority list.

At events and parties, Dad would parade us. Twirl around my Mom like a show dog to denote the blissful state of their marriage and flaunt us - his two well-raised valuables. 

Inside the mansion, we were ignored like the dust that settled in the corners of the house, accumulating over the years till it turned into an eyesore.

Through all the façade, Dave Brenton never once bothered to check if we were indeed a real family. In his hunt for name and fame, he forgot to be a protector; a caregiver.

Mom sat in the hall when I walked in. Underneath the dome-shaped ceiling with crown moldings that fascinated me as a child, I walked into the labyrinth of ottomans and fancy lounge chairs. On one such dark, amber-colored wingback, Mom sat.

She stared at a distance, her rhythmic breathing confirmed her introspection on life itself. Growing up, Mom's laughter used to resonate through the place, submerging us in a state of contentment. As her sons grew up and moved out, she imbibed the silence of the place. Like a chameleon taking up colors from around, Mom draped the color of loneliness, camouflaging into her surroundings.

If I didn't know better, I would say she was slowly losing herself. Unlike those youthful times, she didn't seem resolved to read or write; a heartbreaking thing for someone with a Major in Literature.

"Is the lady of the house dwelling upon something deep?" I walked over to her side, trying my best to hide the bouquet and the gift behind.

Mom's thoughts drifted, fading behind her widening, grey eyes as she stood up, rattling me with her arms clasped over my shoulders. "I'm so glad you came."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." I placed a kiss on her forehead. She leaned in, holding onto me. "Happy birthday, Mom. You don't look a day over fifty."

She chuckled, delivering a backhanded smack on my chest before carefully unwrapping the gift. Her eyes glistened with tears and the sheen from the rose gold pendant, engraved with Antonio and my initials. She surveyed the intricate carvings on the chain and the pendant.

My mother could have anything in the world she'd put her hand on. Yet, a tiny piece of jewellery brought forth a river of tears.

"This is so beautiful." She kissed the pendant, sighing. "I'll wear it everywhere."

"Really? Because if you don't like it, we can exchange it and get you anything else."

"I couldn't have asked for a better gift." With an exasperated sigh, she tilted her head. "Now please, put it on me."

Carefully pulling out the chain, she handed it to me and turned around. After a couple of attempts, all of which passed with her laughing, I hooked the chain in its proper loop.

"Thank you, baby." Her fingers glided over the pendant and surveyed its placement.

To my surprise, this was the time when Dad and Antonio walked in.

"Hey, Leo. How come you're here today?" My little brother confirmed he had no clue about this particular day.

"It's Mom's birthday, remember?" I gritted at his casual attitude. His words were loud enough for Mom's hearing. Suppressing a sigh, she hid it well behind the smiling mask.

"Oh, fucking hell. Happy birthday, Ma." Antonio walked over, kissing her cheeks and holding her in his embrace for a quick hug. Mom's eyes closed and a soft smile danced over her lips before her second-born peeled her off his body. "Are you having a good time?"

"We're having lunch here. Care to join us, Anto?" Upon my request, Antonio checked his watch and skid a step behind as if already prepared to dash.

"I've got a meeting in like ten, Leo. I came here for some work-"

"Got it," I said, unsettled by the sudden change in his attitude.

"Go, Tony," Mom said, waving at him as he sped through the doors. "I can understand."

Though she smiled and waved at him, I was livid. Antonio had fit into dad's role quite well - cold and carefree to his family's needs, of his mother's needs.

Suppressing my displeasure over Antonio's reckless behavior, we sat for lunch. Dad walked out of his room, having changed out of his work attire. He sank into a chair next to hers.

Mom and I stared at each other, astounded by his action. 

Dad would never eat lunch at home without trying to entertain a bunch of colleagues or business partners. The deviation from his usual routine had both of us question his intentions.

Dad saw me gawking at him.

"What? Can't I have a family lunch on her birthday?" He said, peeling his eyes from me to Mom and back.

Dad remembering an event that had nothing to do with business was a miracle.

"I'm just surprised, Dad. How were you... I mean... You remembered?" I said, stuttering for words, gulping water to moisten my sandpapered throat.

Dad shrugged, digging into a seared salmon and swirling it in its sauce. 

"My secretary informed me."

"Oh, of course." I blurted. 

Mom tossed a scalding glance at me, nodding her head in disapproval.

"What's that supposed to mean? You think I don't remember anything, Leo?" 

With his unwavering stare, the table shook from its position. With his palms clutched into a fist, he banged it over the tabletop, clattering every plate and spoon off its position.

The air surrounding us felt thick, mélange with anger and disappointment. Anger from Dad's end and disappointment from mine. 

I was the fool to hope he suddenly remembered without anyone reminding him. Maybe it was the child in me, the kid who hoped for his father to remember his birthday.

I recalled those childhood memories when I reminded Dad about my birthday. Unlike other kids who got a world-class party, my father simply patted my head and tossed money at the issue. 

Yes, birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays were all an issue for him. Anything that didn't help his company was an issue.

When I fell off the memory ride, I saw Dad's furrowed brows and hooked nostrils calming back to their usual position. He slid into his chair, gulping water.

"Tell me, son, what else is news?" 

He was hinting at Zemira but I had bigger things to deal with. After all, the ticking time bomb was moved up into my backyard.

"I've received the call, Dad. I'll be reporting back in a month."

"One month!" Mom's intonated voice was not a question but a disheartened reaction. 

But Dad. Well, let's just say he towered over me, waving his dominant hand in the air, hoping for me to bow down.

"I forbid you from going again. You already went twice and Antonio had to hold the fort. Whoever wants to end those Taliban militants can do so on their own time. My son isn't expendable."

Somehow, the staring match between us induced a tsunami of self-defense in me. I slid the chair back, squaring his face. No man could tell me what to do, especially not my father.

"You think you can forbid me?" The air that escaped my lungs was hot. My eyes, face and everywhere felt the heat. "I'm going and that's final."

"Leo. Dave. Please, calm down," Mom said, sliding off her chair and trying her best to divert the tension.

"You stay out of it, woman," Dad roared, glancing at her as she whimpered and fell back on her seat.

"Don't you dare talk to her like that..." Whatever ounce of respect I had for him, disappeared. "You talk to me, old man."

"How dare you!" Dave Brenton didn't care if his yelling match was with his son. All he cared about was winning. "Let's see how you sustain yourself before you go. I'll cut all of your funding."

"Go on." Locking horns with him and fighting for my mother's pride, I had to go for the beast's head. "Do your best, Dad, but don't forget, I'm still a board member. I can do more harm than good if you decide to come after me."

Somehow Dad knew it wasn't an empty threat. 

He started at me for long, breathing harder than any mythical creature I read about before walking into his room and shutting the door with a force that sent a gust of wind into the surrounding.

"You shouldn't have-" Mom began.

"It was necessary." I stared hard at Dad's bedroom door, channeling my residual anger. "He needs to learn he's not the one in charge anymore."

It took more than an hour to return to the previous state of normalcy by when lunch was ruined and so did Mother's birthday.

"Why didn't you bring Zemira?" Mom tried hard to disperse the silence. She must have hoped for me to leave but part of me felt guilty for ruining her day.

"She went to meet her father. They've some sort of lunch ritual or something."

"I've to tell you, I like her, Leo. Maybe you should make an effort with her. Everyone wants a good companion."

At her confession, my eyes rolled inwards and I slapped my hands over my thighs. This topic of discussion always riled me up. The thought of another woman replacing Sofia soured my mouth and pulled my skin apart.

"We've been over this, Mom. Sofia was the only one for me and her memories are good enough for the rest of my life."

~

Holding onto the past is never the answer...

Comment and let me know, what might happen next.

Would Leo ever let go of Sofia's memories?