Looking for Sandra

Evan stood in the elevator feeling uncomfortable. He had noticed that over the last three weeks he had become increasingly nervous when in the elevator moving towards his office on the 17^th floor. He was not sure why he was feeling nervous. He was not claustrophobic, and he loved his job, well as much as anyone could love their job. Does anyone really love their job? Twelfth floor, thirtenth floor… Even had to admit he was feeling a little uncomfortable a lot recently. His Aunty Sandra always said he had a special kind of intuition, he knew things other people didn’t and he needed to listen to his gut.

Evan had not seen his aunt since he was 8 years old. He remembers her fondly; she had a special energy or light about her that was infectious. Even Evan’s dad, Troy, Sandra’s brother would be full of life whenever she was around. His mum didn’t care for her though so no one talked about her around Evan’s mum. I don’t think he has really ever gotten over loosing Sandra, being a kid he didn’t really understand why his parents fell out with her and why she was banished from their family for life. Like, what could anyone do that is so bad their family disown them. Troy was never the same after it all happened. It was like something had died in him.

By the time Even got to his desk he decided that it was time to bury the family hatchet and find his aunty. It was going to be tricky because his father had died a few years before and he didn’t really know his grandparents, in fact he didn’t even know where they lived. He just got a Christmas and Birthday card every year with $20 in it, even now at 32. Evan realised he was going to have to ask his mother. She was a hard woman to like, some would say jaded and fed up with the life she was dealt but she wasn’t always like that. When Evan was young she would always read to him and set him up at a little table with endless paper and paint while she painted away at her easel. They went on picnics all the time and she always let him get an ice cream, even if it was before dinner. Evan remembers vividly that when he was around 7 years old his mother started changing. She stopped laughing, there was no animation in her voice when she read to him and she always seemed to be in pain. After a while she even stopped painting. Evan often wondered if he had been the reason for this change in his mother. Was he too naughty? Did he require too much time? Was he stopping her from following her dreams? His father didn’t help much, he was like a dutiful robot doing all the things a good husband and father needed to do but without the heart and she was in agony all the time. Not physical agony but a bizarre emotional agony that slowly killed her joy for life.

It was decided and Evan felt excited about finding Aunt Sandra, he just needed to ask his mother… That evening Evan walked back to his apartment pondering if the waiter at Red Lantern was flirting with him or just really good at her job. It was certainly beyond just good service and no one works that hard for a tip in this city! Should he have asked her out? Is that inappropriate? How would he ever meet someone if it is inappropriate to ask someone out? Did he just blow his one chance? Maybe she is married and did just want a good tip. Oh how he wished he had someone to talk to about his sort of stuff, he was useless at it. By the time Evan reached his apartment he had reached full mode of over analysing every relationship he had been in and even the ones that you wouldn’t consider relationships. He wondered if his shrink may be on to something when he said he holds back because he is scared of being abandoned – most likely related to the trauma from losing his aunt. Evan always thought is was a stupid analysis, people don’t experience trauma from a family fallout and not getting to see their aunt anymore. Do they?

The phone rang for a bit longer than usual before Evan’s mum picked up the phone. ‘’Hell..hello, hello, who is it?” gosh was she drunk? Evan quickly realised it was quite late and he had probably woken her. Shit, why didn’t he think of the time? She is probably frantic with worry getting a call so late. “Hey, mum, it’s Evan. I just wanted to give you a call to see how you are and ask if you wanted some company this weekend?” Evan was quite surprised when he heard a bit of joy come across in his mother’s voice. She was delighted by the idea. I guess he forgets how lonely she gets since Troy passed away. She doesn’t really have any friends, and Evan is her only child. I guess he really should make more effort to spend time with her, but he doesn’t.

The week went by and Evan continued to feel nervous in the elevator. Rhonda continued to make inappropriate comments about everyone in the office. Evan loved this! Rhoda is one of the personal assistants. The only one who isn’t young dumb blonde with an exceptional bum. Rhonda’s words. Evan adored her, probably because she always said what he never dared, and she adored him and looked after him like a work mum. Today during lunch Rhoda told him about Annette who is said to be enjoying Darren, one of the senior managers, more than she should. Apparently, they were caught with a white powder on their noses and their clothes looking a little dishevelled in the exec’s powder room. They were screwing and snorting coke off each other’s arses, Rhonda giggled with a kind of naughty delight. But then Rhonda became serious and said that Darren’s poor wife will be devasted if she finds out he is screwing another assistant. Poor Sally has had 3 miscarriages in the last two years and that pig treats her like this. Annette is not the first! He is a serial adulterer, and these silly young women don’t know any better, they think he loves them because he buys them gifts and tells them how pretty they are. Rhoda just sat there and shook her head with a kind of sadness and disgust mixed in one. Evan sat there and wondered how Darren can get so many people to sleep with him when he is an absolute pig and he doesn’t even know is the waitress was flirting with him or not. Some things just do not seem fair.

Friday came and Evan had his weekend bag packed ready to go to visit his mother. He still wasn’t sure when or how he should bring up Aunty Sandra with her, she has always been quite abrupt when Evan had brought her up in conversation when he was younger. As Evan boarded the train he noticed an older couple, maybe in their eighties. The man was chivalrous and cared for her in a way that stood out, it wasn’t ordinary in any way. She expected it as this is clearly how he always treated her, but she was sweet about it, gracious maybe. Evan was mesmerised by the way they talked for the entire trip, it was with genuine interest in what the other had to say, and they laughed, a lot. In a strange way it reminded him how his father and aunty always were with one another. Evan spent the rest of the time thinking of Aunty Sandra and held on to every memory he still had of her.

When Evan arrived at the station it was pouring down and he became drenched when getting into his Uber. By the time he got to his parent’s house he was shivering and feeling very sorry for himself. As he pulled up it occurred to him that he has never had a key to his family’s home, not even as a teen. Was this odd? Don’t children normally have a key to their parent’s home? Their childhood home? Especially when you are the only child. He became annoyed by this as he stood in the rain waiting for his mother to answer the door, knowing she would be annoyed by him wetting her floor. Messing up her house. To his surprise Evelyn opened the door with a bright and warm smile, she seemed concerned but only for her poor son who was drenched and shivering in the cold. Evan liked this version of his mother.

The two of them had a pleasant weekend and caught up on most things when Evan decided it was finally a good time. “Mum, do you ever hear from Aunty Sandra?’’ She was a little startled, Evan wasn’t sure why, but his mother pretended like she didn’t know who he was talking about at first but finally asked him to tell her what he remembered of her. Evan was surprised but liked this softer version of his mother, so went on to tell her all about the trips to the beach with his dad and Aunty Sandra. Going to the movies and even the weekend family trips they took together when she was busy or not feeling well. Evan was so caught up in the joy of his memories that he had not noticed the silent tears coming from his mother’s face. He stopped and wondered if they were tears of regret. He sat and waited for his mother to signal weather or not to go on. He finally said that maybe she could just give him the contact details for his father’s parents, they could help him locate Aunt Sandra if it was too painful for her. Evelyn remained silent, crying.

Some time had passed when Evelyn found her son sitting outside watching the birds. She sat next to him and held his hand. Just as Evan thought his mother was going to say something, she got up, went upstairs, laid on her bed and didn’t get up again that weekend. Evan caught the train home feeling hopeless and angry. Google searching, scanning Facebook once again, and wondering why Sandra O’Hare doesn’t seem to exist. He realises people get married and change their name but surely there would be some sort of record of his aunt with her maiden name.

Weeks went by and Evan felt lower than ever, his mother was not answering her phone and Evan was worried sick. Not even Rhonda could cheer him up and then one afternoon there was a letter that someone put under his door. Addressed to, ‘My Dear Son’. It read;

Dear Evan,

I am sorry I cannot say this to you in person, but it is still too painful. I will cut to the chase and not make this harder than it is.

You do not have an Aunty Sandra, your father was an only child like you. An orphan, in fact. His parents died when he was thirteen but he didn’t want you to grow up without grandparents, so he sent you birthday and Christmas cards from them every year. I of course have continued doing it for him. I know it is silly but it was important to your father, so I have carried it on.

Sandra was your father’s secretary and mistress for several years. He was having an affair with her and not a very quiet one, obviously. Sandra was a home wrecking whore and your father broke my heart into so many pieces it never had a chance to recover.

I wish I could tell you that your father and I made peace with this and had a happy life together, but it would be a lie. I have been living as a prisoner in my own life since I first found out, I think you would have been about seven at the time.

I am sorry I wasn’t stronger, Evan. I loved you so much and your father but it just killed me from the inside out and I have been rotting away ever since.

I am sorry.

I love you.

Mum

Evan sat in the same spot for four hours before moving to his bedroom where he laid on top of his bed fully dressed until the next day. His thoughts all over the place, he wondered if his mother remembered his father’s secretary’s last name.