Chapter 1: HOME?
His fingers intertwined with my fingers firming the grip on my hand. We laid on the delicate grass, and the Dahlias surrounding us danced as a breeze glided by. The sky was brighter than ever and filled with fish-shaped clouds. It was the ocean in the sky. The flowers glowed in the sunlight and kept us warm. I tilted my head to look at him. His attention was towards the sky, but I could tell he was thinking from the look in his eyes. He was thinking hard about something. My hand was still in his, and his other hand supported his head as a pillow. He has a sharp jawline, sharp enough to cut a slice of cheese. His soft, smooth lips are a punch-pink color. His skin is clear and shiny. His hazel eyes glimmered, and his silky black hair flowed with the breath of wind. I became lost in his eyes. Everything around us faded away, and it was just him and I. I woke up from my trance when I felt a warm hand settle on my cheek. His thumb massaged my cheek, sending vibrations down my spine. We intensely looked into each others eyes. We're inches away. The thinking that filled his eyes was gone, and I knew that he found the answers to his questions. He slowly moved closer. His warm breath tickled my lips. The butterflies that were locked in a cage inside my stomach were finally released. As he was about to close the gap between my lips...
My eyes slowly opened. The sun peeped through the sun blocker in the window. My body ached from sleeping in a sitting position. I closed my eyes once I realized where I was. I'm in my moms 6-year-old beat-up Honda Civic. Our old neighbor, Vinny Vechoui, gave it to her because she didn't have anywhere to go, and we needed it more than her. Vinny Vechoui is an old woman with a big heart, a huge-brain, and a humongous mouth. She's tiny and scrawny and has a momentous temper and thin patience. You can be laughing your head off from her hilarious remarks one minute and feel like you're walking on a narrow rope the next. Every day was an adventure with Vinny. That's what I admired about her. I want to be just like her when I grow old. An old lady that you're afraid of but love dearly. It was heartbreaking to say goodbye to Vinny. She was the closest thing I had to a grandma because my mom is an orphan. I felt terrible leaving her alone in that quiet apartment all by herself. Her husband, Mr. Vechoui died a couple of months after my mom and I moved in. Vinny was devastated, but we were there to help her get better, and we ended up stealing her heart as she did ours. I was seven at that time, and who knew ten years later my mom would get a higher-paying job in Los Angeles, and we would leave Vinny alone once more.
It was about a week ago my mom got a letter in the mail from AL'a Art Studios, stating that they noticed her art, and they offered her a position in the studio. She spits out her warm coffee as she reads the letter and shakes with excitement. Her forest green eyes sparkled the more she read as if fireworks were going off in her eyes. Once she was finished reading, she told everyone the news. Vinny and I were exhilarated because we knew how much this meant to my mom, after all, it was her dream ever since she was a girl. Afterward, she looked into houses for a reasonable price and found a pleasant little two-bedroom house in, Matil Springs. After a lot of planning and saving, we eventually found ourselves outside the old apartment with our 6-year-old beat-up Honda Civic and one moving van packed full of our stuff. In front of us stood Vinny with the most heartwarming smile anyone could have. She was normal old Vinny, but in her eyes, I could see herself breaking. I embraced her into a tight hug as if the world were to end. I could see the beads in my eyes building up, but I blink them away and whisper, 'Goodbye', then I teared my arms off her to let my mom say her goodbyes too.
My moms eyes were always dark, deep, and empty. It was rare for you to see the forest green bring her eyes alive and see the fireworks spark. She was broken by someone and couldn't gather herself in time. She disappeared from herself and the world. Saying 'Goodbye' to Vinny just broke her more. They're both hot-heads and never agree with each other, but they understand each other. They're both broken, and they know that.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing the word goodbye was never created. The word seems too plain and direct to me. I think if you're going to say your last words to someone, then those words should be drawn-out, and hard to pronounce, and full of emotion. I have a fondness for tragic romance novels. I love when they're about to be separated from each other, and they don't say 'goodbye'. They usually recite idealistic poems or sometimes don't say anything. They'll just kiss until they have to be pried away from each other or spend their remaining time doing unforgettable adventures.
"Being single sucks," I thought
My only desire is to have him hold me like I'm going to slip away at any minute. To have his lips on mine. To have his heart and he has mine. Love. True love.
I groan before sitting up to examine my surroundings. I'm in the back seat smooshed between the door and boxes and bags. I couldn't sit in the front seat because the seat belt was broken. We were twisting and turning down roads that were surrounded by beautiful houses. They were all shapes and sizes, and beautiful bright colors with nicely cut fresh grass and lovely gardens filled with flowers and gnomes. Everything was breathtaking and peaceful. Little children played in the sprinklers and had water balloon fights. The sidewalks had people walking their dogs, jogging, and bike riding. People sat on their steps or porch taking in the beautiful day and lovely silence. It seems unreal. It feels like we're in a movie where everything is perfect, and everyone is living splendidly.
"It's gorgeous," I breath out
"Hmmm," Murmured my mom in agreement with my comment
I examined her through the rearview mirror. She is just as astonished as I am. Her deep eyes landed on everything in her path. Her strawberry blonde hair flared as she turned down another street. Her skin is always clear and naturally shines. Her lips are thin and tinted pink. She's wearing a rusted brown, short-sleeved, button-up blouse that's tucked into her black shorts. At least she's more representable than me. I'm wearing tie-dyed, oversized sweatpants with a black oversized crop top. What? A girl can't be comfortable.
I'm beginning to realize that my mom and I don't have anything in common. I have caramel brown hair with some streaks of blonde. Greenish-brown eyes, but they're more brown than green. I have freckles dotted all over my nose and cheeks. My lips are full and a sandy pink color. People might mistake us as sisters instead of mother and daughter.
I've never seen my father before. He left the picture when he found out my mom was pregnant. My mom described him to be tall and muscular. He had wavy dark brown hair and ocean blue eyes. I could tell she was in love from the look in her eyes when she described him. She must have been crushed when he left. I wonder if he loved her? Did they ever say I love you to each other, or was it just stupid young love? I guess I'll never know.
"Are we here?"
"Yup, we'll be home as soon as I find our house," She laughed
I cracked a smile as I playfully rolled my eyes, but my mind was focused on the word home. Home is somewhere you make memories and laugh and have fun. Are we home? Is this home?