Au Revoir:
a series of vignettes about the many ways we say goodbye
Austin and Anthony
See you Sunday
“Austin,” Anthony said and burst in the door to his parents house. “Please tell me you’re all packed.”
Anthony rounded the corner into his brothers room. There was no sign of him. There was plaid shirts and jeans strewn across the room.
“Does mom and dad just let you trash this room?” Anthony asked, his nose scrunched at the smell. Anthony kicked the empty pizza box by his feet.
“Austin!”
“What?” Anthony heard his brothers voice. Austin walked past him into his room. His face and hair wet from a shower, a white towel wrapped around his waist.
“Are you seriously not ready?” Anthony groaned motioning to his half naked brother. “I assume you’re not wearing this to the train station.”
“There will be other trains, Tony. Relax,” Austin said in his soft and easy soft voice.
“I think the rank smell in this room is going to seep into my suit,” Anthony said, backing out of his room. “I’m leaving in five minutes. With or without you.”
“My brother, the hardass,” Austin called after him. Anthony threw himself into the puffy chair in his parents living room. Anthony and Austin’s parents were away on a cruise for their fortieth wedding anniversary, so he was in charge of making sure Austin got to his interview in New York City.
Austin had been painting for as long as Anthony could remember. He went from finger painting to drawing cartoons. Now his parents home, as well as his apartment, was cluttered with beautiful abstract paintings. Landscapes. Cityscapes. Paintings of little girls and dogs running in a field of wildflowers. They were breathtaking.
Now, Austin, at twenty-six years old would soon be putting on his very first art show. But, he couldn’t do it without interviewing with the gallery first. Anthony rubbed his bearded cheek. Beards were a family tradition. Everyone since Grandpa Henry needed to grow theirs.
Anthony’s was trimmed and thin. Austin’s was long enough to hide his neck. Their fathers was thick, white and short. Facial hair was a big thing for the Kennedy’s.
Anthony looked up at the clock. His blue eyes burned holes into the clock hands as he watched it tick. His impatience was growing with his obscenely talented little brother who seemingly couldn't tell time. He pursed his lips and decided to give Austin one more minute.
“Tony,” he heard his brother call for him.
“Coming...” Anthony said as he walked to the bedroom. As he rounded the corner he noticed Austin’s eyes were red and his face blotchy. He was sitting on his suitcase and trying to zip it close simultaneously.
“I can’t--” he trailed off and jumped off the suitcase in frustration. “It won’t close,” he grumbled. "It would fu--"
“It’s alright,” Anthony stated calmly, cutting his brother off. It was suddenly clear to him. Austin wasn’t being his normal aloof, careless self. He was nervous. “I’ll get it. Just go get your shoes on.”
“We’re going to be late,” Austin said as he sprinted out of the room. Anthony, with a half smirk on his face, tucked the clothes that was poking out of the suitcase and zipped it up with relative ease. His brother cared about something. He cared a lot.
It was refreshing.
Anthony walked out with the suitcase in his hand and saw his brother trying desperately to tie his shoe.
A memory came into his mind and for a moment he was engulfed. A six year old Austin not being able to tie his shoe in front of the double doors at his elementary. Anthony walked up, put his hands on his brothers back. “What are you doing, kiddo?”
“It came untied on the bus...” Austin whined. “I can’t-- I can’t get it,” he suddenly sobbed. Anthony had bent down, wiped his brothers tears and tied his blue converse shoe laces.
“There we go. All better.”
Austin wiped his nose on his arm. “Don’t tell Dad, okay?”
Anthony smiled and nodded. “It’s between you and me. Now get in there.”
Anthony shook his head and shaking himself out of the moment. He looked at the shoe rack by the door and picked up a pair of slip on dress shoes. He threw them towards Austin. “These will look nice.”
Austin took a breath, slipped off his shoes and slid into the shoes that Anthony had given him. “I think I’m ready.”
“Got your phone? Keys? Wallet?”
Austin checked his pockets and nodded.
“Let’s go.”
The ride to the train station was relatively quiet, with the exception of the sound of Austin biting his fingernails.
“Thanks for driving me,” Austin said at the stoplight a block away from the train station.
“Anytime,” Anthony said. “You’re lucky that no one in New York drives. Or else you’d be screwed.”
“It’s not like a moving there,” Austin said under his breath.
Anthony nudged Austin’s arm. “Hey,” he said forcefully. “We’re not doing this. We’re not going to pout and assume that it’s not going to happen for us. We’re going to get it.”
“Why are you saying ‘we’ like a weirdo? It’s just me. It’s my dream. Not yours. And when I fuck up, it’s my fault. All mine.” Austin’s chest was noticeably rising and falling as he shouted this.
Anthony whacked Austin on the back of his head. “Are you on crack? Yes, it’s all you. But, all of your paintings are all you. And they are superb. They’re going to love you. When it all works out, that’ll be all your fault too.”
“How do you know it’s going to work out?” Austin said, his voice still loud. “I’m not good enough.”
Anthony pulled into the closest spot to the train station and looked over at his brother, his eyes soft. “You’re great. Your stuff is amazing. You’re going to do amazing. Believe in yourself for once.”
“And if I don’t? If it doesn't work out?” Austin asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Then it's their loss. You’ll find another gallery that wants you. It’s only a matter of time.”
Anthony opened his door signifying they were done with the conversation, as he turned to get out of the car he stopped. “I’m really proud of you,” he said to the asphalt.
Austin smirked. Those were strong words coming from his brother.
They both got out of the car. Anthony grabbed the suitcase and followed his brother to the station.
The station was loud, crowded and smelled like processed food. Austin went to the window, purchased his ticket as Anthony waited. Austin was fidgeting and nervous. It was so unlike him. Seeing his insecurities had been a huge eye opener for him. Austin wasn’t as confident as he seemed.
Austin walked back to Anthony. “This is it,” he said in one breath.
“You know we don’t believe in luck,” Anthony said. “We’re the Kennedy’s. We believe in beards and dollars signs.” Austin laughed. “You have one,” Anthony said and patted his brothers face. “Now, go get the other.”
“Thank you,” Austin said and grabbed his bag Anthony. “I’ll see you on Sunday.”
“See you Sunday.”
