Love, Birdie

Mother’s Little Secret

Two weeks had passed since Cyrus lost his mother to a heart attack. He hadn’t the energy nor the heart to return to his firm just yet. The loss of his mother hit him hard, and his father too. The funeral didn’t seem to bring him much peace either, he just could not believe she was gone. His Father couldn’t bare to stay in the house he once shared with his wife and listed it up for sale. It was their very first home they’d bought in New York and Cyrus had fond memories there, despite moving out to a small apartment of his own when he was twenty. His Father called him one morning - he was struggling to sort through Nancy’s things and wanted Cyrus to take the burden of disposing of it or gifting it to a thrift store. Cyrus wasn’t sure he’d be all that much use either as he cried just picturing her face, let alone standing in the very room she once slept, breathed and laughed in. But, he never did hesitate to help his Father. When he arrived to his parents house, it looked as though a bomb had gone off and a tornado had whizzed through it. Stacks of paperwork littered the sides, the dishes piled up next to the sink and photo albums lay on the floor and wedged in the sofa cracks. His Father was not coping and it tore Cyrus apart to see it. He’d only seen his Father cry once, and that was from laughter. His Father rarely showed any sadness, Cyrus grew up thinking his father was invincible. The harsh reality hit him that his father was in fact human, and not an impenetrable hero like he always believed him to be. He wrapped his arms around his Father and kissed his forehead. It didn’t look as though he had eaten anything that hadn’t come out of a box in a while, so Cyrus made his father a fresh breakfast and tackled the cleaning. Leaving his father to eat, Cyrus head upstairs to get the worst of it out the way - his mothers bedroom. He could still smell her sweet scent in the air. She never did change her perfume, and had been wearing the same scent since Cyrus was a child. It was nostalgic. It gave him instant flashbacks of her warm embraces when he was poorly, sad and happy. A tear trickled down his cheek as he smiled at the memories. His mother lived rather simply, she didn’t own too much, just an abundance of clothes that were mostly never worn. It made the job of clearing her things much easier. His father had no use for the clothes and neither did Cyrus, so they were mostly bagged up for the thrift store. Her walk in wardrobe went back quite a way, so Cyrus had to dig around for a few hours to get most of it bagged up. A beautiful, bright white coat with a beige fur trim caught his eye, laying at the back on the floor. He remembered the coat quite vividly. It was the coat she wore to his graduation, he had a photo of him and her together whilst she was wearing it. He donned a black, smart graduation suit while she wore her beautiful coat. He smiled to himself as he pulled it up. As he pulled it up, a box tipped over, making a giant thud. He wasn’t quite ready to tackle whatever was in that huge, heavy box, until a line on a piece of paper caught his eye - “Love, Birdie”. His heart began to pound. He hadn’t seen her name written anywhere in years. Hell, no one had even spoken her name in years. He rushed to open the box to find it full of intricate handwritten letters. All from Birdie. It would have taken him days, maybe even weeks to read them all, but the first one he grabbed to read broke his heart. “Dear Cyrus, I never knew you had it in you to break my heart. I thought you loved me. You promised me we would live a happy life together, but you push me aside for your new life. I hope you’re happy, whatever you’re doing. I promise you won’t hear from me again. Love, Birdie.”. Cyrus felt nothing but confusion. That confusion soon became rage when he realised his Mother had concealed all of these letters from him. He felt sick. He gathered that his mother must not have sent any of the letters he wrote to Birdie either. He hated himself for how Birdie must have felt. He could have had his cosy cottage after all. He could have given Birdie his last name. Birdie Brooks had a ring to it, he thought. The loss of his mother went over his head and he couldn’t control the rage he felt deeply in his heart. He lugged the box downstairs and confronted his father with them. “Do you have any idea what these are?” He asked his father. Thomas looked genuinely startled and confused. “No son, what are they?”. Cyrus spent the next twenty minutes showing his father the letters his mother had so sneakily concealed from him. Thomas was lost for words. Cyrus could see through his fathers grief that he was devastated to learn that his wife could do something so cruel. Cyrus felt guilty for all of the awful things he thought about his mother in that moment, given she was now dead. For the weeks that followed, reading these letters became his obsession. He didn’t sleep. He took the letters with him everywhere he went and read them. It was breaking his heart to relive the pain all over again, but he couldn’t stop himself. Birdie was probably married by now, happy, settled and loved he often thought to himself. He wasn’t even half way through them, yet he never grew tired of reading them. One letter read “Dear Cyrus. I hope this letter reaches you well. I’m sure you’ve been busy with the move and college to write back to me yet. My mother and father have divorced. Mother had enough of him and he’s moved in with my uncle Frank. He threw her into our glass cabinet and it shattered everywhere. Her arms were badly cut. I wish you were here. I need you. Love, Birdie.”. Cyrus couldn’t hold back his tears when he read those words. He knew Birdie must have been suffering desperately in that house, with her dysfunctional family, and he wasn’t there for her. He rummaged through the box to find a letter with an update. He just wanted to find something positive. To know that she was doing better without him. Maybe her mother had met someone nice, someone that would take care of Birdie and her mother. He found no such thing. They were mostly angry letters, questioning why Cyrus lied to her, why did he betray her. But as he pull out another letter, one last letter before he go to sleep, the words he read next made his world stop spinning - “I’m pregnant”.