Maybe that was what I was looking for.For something that would not be acceptable.
“Miles.”My mother’s eyes went from calm to serious, very serious.There were a lot of words hanging in the air that neither of us said.I sensed that she was sensitive to the idea that I wanted to call her selfish without actually saying the word.
Did she feel it?Selfish?
“Take my car,” she said.“I want you back in two hours, maximum, and straight to the living room to help me with those boxes.”My mother’s words were still gentle, but her voice was now stiff, it seemed to cut like glass.
I turned toward the kitchen door.I could feel the atmosphere turning reactive.Anything else said on impulse would be a bad idea.“Thank you.I’ll see you in an hour and a half.”
You couldn’t say my mother and I had the best relationship, but I had just turned my back on her.I didn’t do that.
A weight settled on my chest as soon as the slam of the door echoed behind me.I was feeling her fragility.
No one had told me the full story.My mother said that my stepfather had ended their relationship.
She’d never been lucky in love.My father abandoned her when I was almost one year old.I didn’t mind knowing that I was an accident that happened between two young adults, but I did mind thinking about my mother alone and the image of a self-absorbed father who never came back.
Many years later, after fleeting boyfriends whose faces I no longer remembered at all, Ben showed up in our lives.I had a father figure for five years, and my mother finally had a kind, serious boyfriend.
But that was no longer the case.
I got into the car, not knowing where I was going.
I left the neighborhood, passed a children’s playground, and looked at the houses.No tall buildings in sight.Everything was very white, very rural.Nothing glassy or even remotely modern.It was, in fact, a different landscape.
Chapter3
Ella
September 7th, 1998
Monday
It was a bright, sunny Monday morning.
One day after my 17thbirthday.
And I woke up to something that could be a small civil war happening downstairs.With my three brothers, I never knew if the loudness was them being super excited and hyped about the simplest thing or them screaming and fighting over nothing they could remember or care about after an hour.
This time, they were simply too excited about silkworms in a shoe box.
My mom hugged me good morning and opened the fridge to reveal a lonely leftover piece of cake.She had bought an enormous, beautifully decorated birthday cake.The whole family came to our house yesterday, including my dad.By the end of the night, he was the one who cut an extra slice and told my brother Alvin to store it away so I could have birthday cake for breakfast today.I loved it and all the blue balloons my mom had bought and blown up to surprise me when I woke up on my birthday morning.My brothers and sister cooked a feast, a full “hotel breakfast”, as we liked to call it.The family drove and flew from different places to be here.One more lap around the sun to sing for.Birthday celebrations were taken seriously in the family.
“Hey, sis,” my sister Mira said as she walked past me in the hallway the second I closed the bathroom door behind me.“Have fun with your event planning today!See you later!”she added, hurrying outside to catch the bus.
I chuckled, “Thank you, and be back in time for dinner!”
“Oh, always!”
“Summer makes her the happiest,” I told myself.
My mom left the house a few minutes later to drive my brothers to the Community Integration Center and head for her office.
I had the house to myself.Part of me felt that I should just stay in and enjoy it (it was as rare as Donald the Duck wearing pants).But my calendar had commitments, and I’d never been able to cancel those.
My sister taught me the motto: “dolce far niente”.She said the first step was to say “no” to people.But that was not so easy.Was it?
My three younger brothers had summer activities planned by the Community Integration Center for kids aged five to eight.I was once part of those programs too.I also used to take the bus to the beach, play sports and dance at the pavilion, or do arts and crafts programs that included walks through the village public gardens to gather leaves, flowers, and inspiration.I still cherish those memories of summers filled with discovery and wonder.
