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“Yes, Vera. I do.” You nod… This entire exchange feels odd in a good way. Refreshing is the word you’re looking for. Having someone who cares about your well-being is refreshing.
“Good! I knew you were going to say that.” Vera acts like everything went just as planned, even if her spontaneous relieved smile says otherwise. She places her hands on top of yours. “I almost forgot to thank you. But you can sense that I’m grateful, right?”
“I actually do.” You wouldn’t have put yourself in trouble for someone ungrateful. “Anything else you want to talk about?”
“Yeah, but I’m sure it’s going to bother you. So I’ll leave it there.” Vera doesn’t know if what she’s thinking is worth bringing up as she moves her hands away.
“I’m open to anything.” You wiggle your eyebrows.
“It’s serious.” Vera doesn’t play along with your tomfoolery.
“I know, I can sense where this is going too.” You act earnest now.
“What happened to your mom… you weren’t making that up. You lost the spark in your eyes when you mentioned it. Bodil saw it too.” Vera is trying to frame this in a way that doesn’t upset you. “I want to know more, if you’ll let me.”
“What I said before is pretty much it, I was there and…” You begin telling the story of the saddest ice cream you ever ate.
You recall the moment your mother died right in front of your very eyes with as much detail as you can. Your little sister managed to pull you out of the way of the drunk driver, but she couldn’t save you both. Your mother was launched twelve feet in the air and then… Boom. Gone forever. And your old life with it.
Your stepfather abandoned you. Your deadbeat dad wants nothing to do with you but the bare minimum, and that’s a stretch. He constantly reminds you of how worthless you are, how your existence is a nuisance to everyone around you. He hated seeing you cry, he hated hearing you laugh, he hated seeing you live… so you shut down and pretended to not be alive anymore, until it was no longer pretending. Little by little, you realized there was no place in the world for you to find any joy, and just like your dad said, you weren’t tough enough to create your own. A talentless, gutless loser. That’s Johnny Ando.
Vera puts her hands on top of yours again to act as any type of comfort.
“...Sorry if all that was a bummer.” You apologize without thinking.
“You didn’t deserve any of that. You really didn’t. The world sucks and I hate it as much as you do.” Vera pats your shoulder. “We’re not too dissimilar. You withdrew, but I got angry. I lashed out. So I kinda get it.”
