Chapter 2
"I guess I have a lot of explaining to do, hm?" my mom said from the front passenger's seat as we drove home. My aunt, who was apparently named 'Alexandra' and for whom I was named, sat quietly in the passenger seat beside me, a slight smile on her face as she listened to us.
"Probably a good idea," I replied, causing my aunt to smirk. I could already tell that trying to think of her as my aunt might take the better part of the rest of my natural life, since she wasn't more than a year older than me. "Just... start at the beginning."
"Fair enough," mom agreed. "Well, your grandmother had me and I was an only child for a long time."
"I figured out that much, if you two are genetically related." I said flatly.
"I'd already married your father by the time my little sister was born," mom continued, ignoring my petulant tone. "It was certainly unexpected, since mom was at the outer edge of being viable to have children again when Alexandra came along."
"Well, you married dad when you were twenty-five, so if that happened first, then there's twenty-six years between you. That's quite a span, you have to admit."
"No argument there. Anyways, your grandfather, as you know, was developing very tragic and dangerous mental issues at the time. When your grandmother had another kid against all odds, it triggered something in him and he became violent and abusive. Rather than stay and try to work it out, since he was in a terrifying spiral, mom took everything she could and fled to Europe with my little sister, where he could never reach her."
I was silent for a few moments.
"It was very hard on me, I admit, because mom didn't even tell me until after she'd gone," mom said, somewhat morosely. "She didn't tell me where they went, for fear that my dad might somehow find out from me, even inadvertently. I was crushed at the time, but I understood, once I knew how bad your grandfather had gotten."
"So, you didn't even know where grandma went." I murmured, the whole scenario beginning to make perhaps a little sense to me.
"It was for her protection, Allie's and my own," she said sadly. "It was devastating to be robbed of my mother and the little sister I'd just met, but I understood in my heart. Your grandfather raged and called and threatened, but your father stood squarely in the way and wouldn't let him come over ever. It's why you've never met him, even though he was alive until last year."
"Wow, that's really rough." I sighed. "I had no idea."
"And I hate to say it, but we kept the information from you on purpose, especially when you were young," my fathered added. "Just in case he ever found you. We felt like we couldn't be too careful."
"Yeah, that makes sense now," I agreed. "So... grandma and Al- Aunt Alexandra high-tailed it to Europe and I was born just under a year later."
"Yes," my mom confirmed. "I missed my little sister so much that your father and I agreed to name you after her."
"I hope she has better middle names than I do." I muttered, causing my so-called 'aunt' sitting next to me to smirk.
"I will have you know that 'Orion' and 'Dayraven' are both perfectly acceptable literary names," my mother announced. "We picked them very carefully."
"Yeah," I snorted. "Pretty sure one is Greek and the other is Old English for 'Please Beat Me Up'..."
My aunt almost choked on her laughter and turned her head to smile at me, her unreal blue eyes dancing with mirth. I found it strangely compelling and knew that I'd kill to see that look in her eyes constantly.
"Oh, you complain endlessly," my mother sighed wearily. "But that's the gist of it, Walter Winchell. Allie, how about you fill in any gaps for us from a more recently perspective?"
My aunt took a breath, gathering her thoughts.
"I hardly know where to begin..." she said and I was instantly enthralled by the sound of her voice- it was lyrical and she spoke perfect English, and yet I could not readily identify the source of her accent. It wasn't anything I associated with the British Islands, nor was it any sort of North American accent, no Oceanic. I just waited for her to continue.
"As I told you over the phone, we moved to England first, living just outside of London, where mother taught International Relations. By the time I was six, though, she was tiring of that scene and moved us to Paris, where she taught Gallic Studies in English. When she was tired of Paris, we moved to Bologna, where we lived in an atalier and she worked on her art. After that she whisked us off to Copenhagen for about three years and then Berlin. She was teaching Germanic languages when we heard our father had died. Not long after that, she became ill and we retired to a little village outside Cardiff and she died peacefully just a week ago."
My mother shook her head as she listened. "She never stopped loving daddy, did she?"
"No," my aunt said in a sad tone. "She knew she couldn't be with him but she was still dedicated to him and did everything she could to check on him. I think she just had been waiting for him to go and then she joined him."
"It kept our family apart for so long but maybe there's time to make up for that now," my mother said. "I think we all need that."
My aunt nodded. "I'm sure it was awful not knowing and basically having to pretend you had no mother or sister. Having to keep it from everyone, even your own son. You're so strong, Karen, just like mom always told me."
Mom smiled and subtly dabbed at the corner of her eye. "Well, maybe, but I had a great support network with these two lugs. They've kept me going and busy, for sure."
"Alex, are you tired or hungry?" my father asked. "I just want to make sure you're properly looked after."
"I-" my aunt and I both responded simultaneously before pausing and laughing.
"Not you, dopey," my father snorted. "I know you're always hungry. I meant your aunt."
She smiled prettily. "Thank you, Michael, but I'm actually rather tired from the plane trip, not to mention all the events of the past week, so maybe back to your house so I can nap?"
My dad nodded and kept driving. My mother and her sister continued talking and I did my best not to stare at her- she and my mother could not look much less alike. They were both tall, but the similarities ended there. My mom was rather tan of skin where my aunt was fair. My mother's hair and eyes were decidedly brown, although not dull. It might have been the age difference, but my mother's build was also a little more solid. Mom had always said she took after her father in that regard, which I guess meant that my aunt looked like their mother.
I still had no chance to really observe her without staring, so I did my best to keep my eyes resolutely forward or looking out my own window. Finally though, not far from my house, my aunt asked me a question directly.
"Alex," she chimed, smiling at me. "Anything you want to know?"