A Seat at the Table

She’s gone. The love of my life and the only person to truly know me was gone. I sat there, alone with my thoughts for what felt like hours, the last words James spoke to me still lingering in my ears. ‘It’s your fault she’s gone,’ he had said, ‘and I will never forgive you.’ He spoke these last words through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, revealing the maturity in his features that I often overlook in lieu of seeing only the boy underneath. ‘Goodbye dad,’ he had muttered while looking at the ground before walking away, his hands tucked tightly inside the pockets of an expensive and well-tailored somber black suit. I wanted to run after him right then. I wanted to yell at him that it wasn’t my fault, that it was what she would have wanted. I wanted to beg him to forgive me. Instead, I just watched him leave, my heart breaking in pieces all over again. I slowly sat down, my ever-quivering hand grasping the pew in front of me for support, before weeping uncontrollably for what I lost that day, unable to hold it in any longer.  

It’s been 9 months since that day I said goodbye to the only two people I’ve ever loved. It’s gotten easier for me to sleep I suppose. I no longer wake in a cold sweat hoping to find that I’ve been stuck in a never-ending nightmare. I no longer reach over in the dead of night patting at the empty side of the bed furiously, hoping to find the curve of her familiar silhouette and the warmth of her skin. The shadows that had once played tricks on my mind are now a comforting presence that I welcome. Still, I keep to my side of the bed, reserving the vacant spot for her memory and the distant hope that I might wake up one day with her next to me, sleeping in the same spot she had for 42 years.  

This morning I’m pulled from a tolerable slumber to the comforting smell of coffee and French Toast. While I was initially apprehensive about having someone in my home with me that wasn’t Georgia, Mei has proven herself to be an invaluable addition to my life. She cooks, cleans, and manages my medication and treatment plan with a kind and caring disposition, though mindful enough not to overstep my unspoken needs for boundaries.  

As I shuffle to the kitchen, I hear her softly humming a tune I don’t recognize but enjoy just the same. Her tranquil and light-hearted demeanor is one I’ve grown to look forward to every morning. As I stagger slightly, holding out my hand to lean on the wall, she turns around and smiles at me, her long silky black hair falling neatly behind her back.  

“Good morning, Mr. Burns,” she says softly, the warmth in her smile genuine and unwavering. 

“Morning Mei,” I manage, still half asleep but drawn to the sweet smells of warm syrup, cinnamon, and freshly pressed coffee. As I slowly begin to sit down, reaching for the edge of the table, she reaches over and gently grabs my elbow to help guide me down. She always makes sure she isn’t too far away, especially after the time I lost my grip on the table and fell clumsily on the hardwood.

“So, any plans today Mr. Burns?” I’ve asked her to call me Olly at least a dozen times but she insists on the formality, so I’ve given up. She explained to me that her mother taught her to always use last names when addressing someone of importance, and to use first names for family and friends. I appreciate and admire her mother for raising a daughter with the grace and poise that Mei carries with her. 

“Oh yeah, big plans. I’m going to sit on my porch and read the paper,” I say with a smile. She chuckles and pours my coffee. 

“Sounds like you have a full day,” she replies, stifling a laugh. “I’d better be on my way so you can get to it. I have to get Lin to school in about thirty minutes. Your cane is hanging on the hall tree in case you want to go for a walk later, but please be careful not to overdo it. I’ll be back by 5:30 this evening to make dinner and get you settled in for the night.”  

“Goodbye Mei and thank you for breakfast, it looks delicious,” I say, taking a sip of coffee. She gives me a slight smile with a nod and heads out of the house through the back door and across the yard, into the small guest house to get her daughter ready for pre-school.  

When our house was originally built, it came with a large detached garage in addition to an already attached two car garage, along with a chicken coop. It was really the chicken coop that sold Georgia on the house because when she initially saw it, she decided right then and there that we needed to have farm fresh eggs. After we moved in and she learned more about the amount of time and work that went into caring for chickens and their eggs however, she quickly abandoned the endeavor and moved on to something else, as she so often did. She never did finish the projects she started, which admittedly took some patience on my part. So, the coop remained empty, and since I really didn’t have anything to put in it, so did the garage. It wasn’t until James was a teenager that Georgia and I converted it into a one bedroom one bath guest house in the hopes that James might live in it during college. It makes me happy to know that someone is finally getting use out of it. I’m sure by today’s standards it’s a little dilapidated, but I made sure that all the utilities and appliances were working properly and that everything was up to code before Mei and Lin moved in. I told Mei that she could fix it up and decorate it any way she liked, which seemed to seal the deal for her, even though I thought it might be a little cramped for the two of them.  

As I finish breakfast, heeding Mei’s advice and being careful not to get up too fast, I see Mei and Lin heading out of the guest house and into the ’98 Honda Civic. It was James’s car in high school and Georgia couldn’t bring herself to sell it, so it sat off to the side of our driveway for years. It has definitely seen better days, but Mei was overly grateful that I had it to spare and offered it to her when she moved in. Up until then she and Lin were taking public transportation everywhere. 

“Mommy, I don’t want to go to school today,” I hear Lin whine through the open kitchen window as I pick up my single place setting. It wasn’t too long ago that I was cleaning up for two.

“I know sweetie, but I have to go to work,” Mei replies with sympathy as she clicks Lin into her car seat. “No work for me tomorrow though, so we’ll have all day together.” She leans over and gives Lin an Eskimo kiss, nuzzling their noses together before closing the door.  

I watch them drive away with curiosity and adoration and find myself already missing their presence, even if it’s just knowing they’re across the yard. For the past few months most of my days consist of eating a breakfast alone prepared by Mei, taking two hours to get cleaned up, merely because I’m too slow to go any faster, before spending the rest of the day sitting on the porch or the couch reading the paper, doing crosswords or sudokus, and watching the History Channel. I really am the epitome of what everyone thinks being old is like, but with my condition and recent events, I really don’t have the energy for much else.  

***

Georgia and I are driving home after an evening out to dinner, talking about the trip we’re excited to take to visit James and his long-time girlfriend up state. Suddenly my hands begin shaking uncontrollably and I’m unable to steer the midsized sedan. My foot feels like lead on the pedal and I’m unable to move it, propelling us faster through the darkness. My hand jerks the steering wheel, causing us to cross the double yellow with a jolt. Suddenly, two blinding lights fill the inside of the car as Georgia screams my name. I instinctively swerve back into our lane but the truck clips us and sends us spinning violently across the blacktop causing our car to smash hard against the guardrail on Georgia’s side. I rest my head on the airbag and watch the blurred scene around me fade to black — I wake in a cold sweat that causes me to shake and I wipe away the tears streaming down my face that must have manifested in the dream. I reach for the glass of fresh water I keep on my nightstand each night and realize my hands are trembling worse than normal. Breathe I think to myself, as I slow my breath down, holding my hand on my chest to feel the rise and fall of the air in my lungs. 

It’s not the first time I’ve had that dream, though it’s really more of a memory, but it’s the first time I’ve had it in a while. I thought I was past this, but the vivid nature and sharpness in the images and voices makes me feel like I’m back on that road 13 months ago. 

I don’t bother trying to go back to sleep, so I just lie there until the sun peeks through the sheerness of the curtains. I’m not usually awake this early, and enough time has passed that I feel I’ve recovered from my nightmare, so I get up and make my way out to the kitchen. Surprisingly, Mei is already mixing up pancake batter, and a small bowl of blueberries sit beside the griddle. 

“Blueberry pancakes, my favorite,” I say in a cheerful tone that doesn’t reflect my sullen mood. 

Mei turns around startled “Mr. Burns,” she says with a jump. “I wasn’t expecting you up for another hour or so. Are you alright?” 

“Oh yes, I’m fine, nothing to worry about. I just had a little trouble sleeping is all,” I say with what I hope is a reassuring smile. 

“Okay,” she replies with a weary look of concern. “Usually I’m the stealthy one,” she jokes, lightening the conversation. 

“You sure are. I’ve been awake for over an hour and didn’t even hear you come in. I may have a lot of ailments in my old age, but my hearing has never been one of them,” I laugh, sitting down carefully, my hands still shaking. She laughs at this and dishes me up a plate and a cup of coffee. Her company is comforting and warm, and I suddenly wish she didn’t have to go. 

“Why don’t you make yourself a plate and join me this morning if you’re not too busy. It would be nice to have a little company,” I say, hoping I don’t sound needy. 

She turns to me and smiles with a nod. “I can stay for a bit,” she says without hesitation. “Lin won’t be awake for a little while, and these pancakes do smell amazing if I do say so myself,” she laughs, sitting down to eat with me for the first time in 7 months of caring for me. 

“Where did you learn to cook as well as you do?” I ask, not really knowing where to start a conversation. It’s been so long since I’ve talked to anyone for more than a few minutes, including Mei, and it seems the art of it has been lost on me. 

“My mother taught me when I was a girl. She told me it was the fastest way to a man’s heart,” she laughs, taking a bite of blueberry infused pancake. “I never did like that saying much, because I wasn’t all that concerned with boys, even as a teenager. Lucky for her I love cooking, so I soaked up all her techniques and tips. She was right though, even if I’ll never admit it, because my husband used to love my cooking too.” 

With this I look up at her, a clear look of surprise etched on my face. “I didn’t realize you were ever married,” I say, feeling foolish at my assumption. 

“Yes, I was,” she says as she looks down at her plate, her voice cracking slightly. “He passed away before Lin was born,” she continues, still not looking at me. 

I’m not really sure how to respond to this. I had no idea that Mei was also struggling with the loss of a loved one, I guess because I never asked, and she never showed any indications of grief. Though to be fair, our conversations have always been short and usually about me and my needs. “I’m so sorry,” are the only words I find. “I didn’t know.” 

“Thank you,” she says, “But it’s ok, it was five years ago and I’ve made my peace with it. Fortunately, Lin did not have to go through the loss of her dad, and I’m grateful for that.” 

“Yeah. I suppose it’s best that way,” I say echoing her thought. I don’t want to pry and ask what happened, especially because this is the most we’ve talked about things that didn’t consist of food or medication since I hired her. 

“Losing a parent is really hard on a child, no matter the age,” I say, offering up an anecdote from my own family history. “When James lost his mom, he blamed me for it, and still does,” I say, feeling a sudden rush of relief. I’ve been holding in what happened for so long that it feels good to finally say it out loud. 

“I can imagine that was hard on him, but from what little I was told about your situation from the job agency, it was an accident,” she counters. 

“It was,” I reply hesitantly, silently agreeing with James about who's to blame. “I was driving the night of the accident when I really shouldn’t have been. It was when the Parkinson’s started getting bad but I was still in denial. I told Georgia I was fine to drive, even though she noticed my hands shaking at dinner and offered to drive instead,” I continue as Mei listens intently, her eyes full of empathy. 

“I sustained a concussion but was out of the hospital a week after the accident. Georgia wasn’t as lucky. She had to be put on life support after hitting her head hard against the window. Of course I didn’t want to take her off of it for my own obvious selfish reasons, so she stayed on it for four months. I finally decided she wouldn’t want to live like that. James was convinced that she would wake up and argued with me for days about it, but the doctors said she had no brain activity,” I manage, my eyes welling up. 

Nice going, I think to myself, realizing I’ve put a damper on the first real conversation I’ve had in over a year, but Mei doesn’t seem to mind. She doesn’t look uncomfortable or nervous, she stays quiet for a few minutes, waiting for me to collect myself. 

“I know how you are feeling,” she finally says. “Losing someone tragically and in an untimely manner feels like having your whole life stolen from right under you. My husband was a good man and a good soldier, but he would have been an amazing father. I often find that when I’m sad, I’m not grieving for what I’ve lost as much as for what Lin will never know.” 

For someone young enough to be my daughter, she speaks as if she’s lived a lifetime, with composure and insight beyond her years. “I wish James could understand why I had to do it, but all he sees is the man who killed his mother.” 

“Give him time,” she says, “he might just come around.”

“He might,” I say hopefully with a forced half smile.

“ Olly,” she says, using my name for the first time, “it wasn’t your fault,” she states matter of factly. 

As I look up and smile at her, the back door creaks open and a little voice cuts through the heaviness that fills the room. “Mommy,” Lin chimes in a voice that makes my heart melt. “I’m hungry.”

Mei stands up, smiling at her. “Good morning sweetheart. I see you found your way across the yard.” 

Lin smiles coyly, looking at her feet. “You weren’t there when I woke up, so I thought you might be here like you are every morning. Is it okay that I came here?” She asks shyly.

“Of course it’s okay,” I say with a big smile. I have never actually met her until now. I have only ever seen her through the window because Mei never wanted to impose.

Mei smiles at me and kneels down to match Lin’s eye level. “It just so happens that I made blueberry pancakes. Would you like some?” Lin smiles and nods. “Lin,” Mei starts, “This is Olly, can you please say hello.”

“Hello Mr. Olly,” Lin says, holding out her tiny hand to shake mine. 

“Hello Lin,” I say holding out mine in return. “It’s lovely to finally meet you," I say with a warm and sincere tone.

With that, Mei looks at me and smiles before getting up and getting a third plate.