Dear Tressi [✓]

22

The feeble morning sun illuminated the kitchen floor in a tiny circular patch. Tressi stooped over the counter, adding coffee grounds to the boiling water while the steam saturated the air. The resulting beads of sweat rolled off the tip of her nose. She pulled at the collar of her dressing gown, uncomfortable from the stifling humidity.

She watched as the cheap coffee with brown dust as filler dissolved sluggishly, and she breathed in deeply trying to inhale the non-existent aroma. Tressi had always loved coffee, but in Lapec, tea had always been the norm.

Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned around to see Des walk into the kitchen, groggily rubbing his eyes.

"Hullo," he said, his voice thick with sleep. "How long have you been up?"

"Quite a while," she replied, pouring them both generous amounts of coffee. She handed one to him and sat down at the table.

"Ugh," said Des, with his face screwed up in disgust, as the brew hit his taste buds. "This is so bad. I think I'm gonna add more sugar."

"That's just gonna make it worse."

"We'll have to get something else today. This is terrible." He pursed his lips and pushed away the mug.

"Lapec's not known for its coffee, Des."

"Maybe we'll stick to tea then," he said, shrugging. "So, what's on the agenda for today? What clues are we hunting?"

Tress rolled her eyes.

Des continued, "I was actually thinking. Let's go see your mother. I've never met her and this'll be a good opportunity, don't you think?"

Tressi looked horrified. "I can't think of anything worse."

Des sighed, "Tress, be reasonable. Your mother lived with your sister. Don't you think what she knows will be pertinent? In fact, she might've known Edda better than you did."

Tressi scoffed, "That's just not true. She didn't give a damn about anything that wasn't herself. I already tried talking to her and she doesn't care. She knows nothing and isn't interested in finding out."

"Doesn't that seem strange to you though?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"If you knew my mother, you'd know it's perfectly within character. She just doesn't care, Des. I know it's hard for you to accept. But that's just the kind of woman she is."

"Regardless," Des pressed on, "they lived in the same house, Tress. Even if she never cared, she must know something. Just by proximity. You can't argue with that."

Tressi opened her mouth, but she couldn't say anything. Des was right. But the question was if her mother would tell them, even if she did know something. She voiced this concern out to her husband. To which he said, "We won't know unless we try, Tress. I know you've already tried. But don't knock my powers of persuasion." He raised an eyebrow.

Tressi swatted his arm. "Be serious."

"Okay. How about this then? You went to see her last week and she didn't wanna say anything. It went badly and you don't wanna go back again. I get it. But. You may not be the only one who might be regretting how things went down, she might be too. In which case, she'll be happy to talk to us. It's a chance at redo. And we might just learn something important."

Tressi shook her head. "I've given her so many chances, Des. So many. She never regrets, never wants to change anything."

"But what if this time it's different though? Tress, this is way too important not to try and we don't have a lot of time. Let's go there, try and talk to her. And if she's gonna be difficult, we'll just turn around and leave. How's that?"

Tressi opened her mouth to say the quick and final 'No'. But then, she looked at her husband's hopeful expression. He really believed her mother could help.

While she didn't particularly agree, the chance of throwing her happy life in her mother's face seemed very appealing. She wanted to say, 'You screwed me up so much and yet here I am, Mom. With a man you'd have never have had, and could've never kept even if you did manage to have him. How does that feel, Mom? That after all that you did to me, I have a life you never did.'

"Okay. Let's go see my mother."