Picasso's Promise

Episode 49| End of the Road

Sydney's POV

When I was a child, the only thing that could bring me real joy - outside of the comfort of being with my father - was something I found embarrassing today. With two slices of white bread, I would smear peanut butter on both sides - a decent amount as well. Then, I'd add a square piece of cheese between the two slices. Kraft singles to be exact, and I'd microwave it for about thirty seconds or less, and then eat it up like no one was watching. 

My dad saw me make it one time - with horror - and quickly told my nanny that I wasn't allowed to make my own lunches anymore. She proposed that I shouldn't be hindered to create what I wanted, so behind my dad's back, I would make those sandwiches. Until I grew sick of them.

I thought of that now - and only now - because my mother said she was eating that when I called her up. She said she would always make it for me when I was about three years old.

In a weird, strange way, I was able to remember that. Thinking it was just one of my many nanny's that gave me the idea to combined cheese with peanut butter...But it had been my mother. My very own mother left an impression on me so grand that I associated warmth and affection with that sandwich. Even though my father found it unhealthy and gross, I thought it was scrumptious. 

Before the call reached even thirty minutes, I promised her that I would talk to her again as soon as possible. "I'm staying with your sister."

"You are?" my mother's voice rang loud in my ear. "You should be with my father instead."

"It's fine. I like where I'm living," I lied, knowing that I didn't want to be any further from Picasso. I didn't have interest in moving up town to where my grandpa resided. There was only one reason to move - and that was if I was moving back into my old bedroom in Malibu. 

"I need your help." I said.

"What could I possibly do to help you from in here?"

"Your name is on the deed to the house."

"You mean the house your father bought years ago?" she began to laugh. "That wasn't in Malibu. That was somewhere else."

"No, no, that's not true," I refused to believe. "Your name is on it. And you're going to help me."

"I can't do anything for you sweetheart, I'm sorry," she said softly, "I wish you could contact a lawyer for me - see if I could get an appeal or something."

"You have to have new evidence in order for that to happen," Picasso said to the left of me. I hushed at him. He mouthed, What? 

I put my teeth together and made a "Shhh" sound at him. 

On the phone, I told her that I would get in contact with a lawyer and that I would call her again. I swore that I would give her an update within a week, and I wondered how often she got calls from other people. She sounded so sweet, so gentle and my heart hurt for the person that was on the opposite end.

***

 Picasso's POV

I wasn't going to let Sydney hang out with Genesis alone. 

No part of me felt confidence in that, knowing something would go awry and I would be eventually called. After taking Sydney home, I refused to leave and said I would help anyway I could. Sydney didn't agree at first - fighting against the request but inevitably nodded her head.