Growing up, I always loved the cold weather. Just something about it brings me happiness and comfort. I can be outside, being mesmerized by the frost, until I freeze my feet off. And if I have any music with me, I can be outside for hours. But, most importantly, if there’s snow. I’ll lay on the snow that covers up the grass. I’ll stare into the endless sky, counting the stars, wishing I could touch just one of them once in my lifetime.
If someone could name me a person that wished and dreamed for happiness and got it, I’d maybe be convinced. However, I quickly realized that dreams and wishes are only that and will stay at that. I don’t believe in happily ever afters, being with one person until you die, and still being the happiest in the world. The person who thought of “money can’t buy you happiness” was pretty delusional. Money can and does buy happiness.
Most of the happiness in my life is bought with money. I can buy myself some Louboutin heels, or maybe a pretty surfboard, and I’ll be the happiest for the whole year. Well, a plane ticket to Seattle would do the job too. I wouldn’t be stuck in a car with my perfect brother and a stranger who claims himself to be very close with my parents.
“Can you stop at the next exit? I want to eat something.” I looked at my brother through the passenger seat. “Okay,” George grunted, unpleased.
My brother and I don’t get along, not even the tiniest bit. But, nevertheless, I had to ride with him because I didn’t have the money for the plane. George was driving his Mustang to Seattle, and instead of giving me the money, dad suggested I ride along.
A few minutes later, Geoge turned into the parking lot of the subway. I left my sketchbook in the glove box and hopped out of the car, already pissed because of these two. I kept asking questions to a particular outsider to get some insight throughout the ride, but he didn’t have it. I always feel it’s risky to piss of the quiet and nice ones because you can’t estimate how dangerous they indeed are. Yet, he didn’t seem dangerous, just closed off.
My brother was standing near the subway door, looking at his phone, his expression hardening. I marched towards him and inquired, “Why didn’t you told me earlier, you were picking up a stray from the streets of Chicago?”
George looked at me disinterested and said, “He’s Lucas, my very close friend, and mom likes him. He’s not a stranger. Treat him with respect.” With that, he went inside. I controlled myself from hitting my brother and joined them on the table. George has always been a quiet person, and me? I am nothing but a dark cloud waiting to erupt and come down in a storming rage.
They ordered me a diet coke and burger; satisfied, I looked at Lucas and said, “How do you know my parents? And why you’re invited to Seattle?” He looks rich. I bet he works in finance or something. He has that intimidating and mysterious kind of personality. My brother shot me a nasty look from across the table, which I ignored.
“I met your parents a couple of times when I was vising George. Moreover, it’s your mother’s birthday party, and she invited George’s friends too. Didn’t your mother invited your friends?” He smirked.
“I don’t have any friends to invite to this extravagant birthday party. It’s bad enough I have to spend my winter break with everyone.”
It’s true. I never had a lot of friends. Constantly juggling up between university and study and work, I never had the time to make friends.
“So Lucas, tell me this, why did you decide to come along on this car trip? Don’t you have enough money for a plane ride?”
“Okay, that’s enough for today, Grace,” George grumbled.
“You don’t get to speak to me like that, brother. I was talking to Lucas, not you.” I don’t know why he’s irritated. I’m simply having a conversation with his friend.
“Eat your food and get in the car. I am done handling your cranky attitude from the morning.” George fumed.
“You don’t have to tell me what to do and what to say. I am big enough to make my own decisions.” I leave my food as it is and go outside. I shouldn’t have agreed to this. I should have just given up some excuse like last time.
They come seconds after me, George speaking animatedly on the phone. No doubt tattling to mom how much I have changed since they have last seen me. He’s right about that, though. I am no longer who I once was. I have changed since they last saw me. It’s been three years, after all.
As soon as George opens the car, I jump in the back, leaving the passenger seat for Lucas. He looks pretty annoyed with this but shoves a package in my hand. It’s a burger. It seems like the mysterious man is not as cruel as they seem.
Soon after eating the snack, I decided to take a nap. Unfortunately, the train ride from Miami to New York and then here, being stuck in a car with two buffoons, didn’t allow me to rest much.
“Grace, wake up” “Grace!”
I woke up startled at the sound and looked up to the two heads of people with annoying expressions. “Where are we?” My voice croaked. I look at the outside, and it’s dark. I probably slept for four to five hours.
“We are at Motel 34. Here, take the key to your room.” With that, Geroge left for god knows where. I got out of the car and saw Lucas smiling slightly. I ignored him and started walking towards my room.
“So, I got this sketchbook in the front seat,” Lucas said from behind me, and I instantly stopped dead in my tracks. “I looked at the figures, and they are outstanding, but aren’t you a med student?” He questioned.
“Mind your own business Lucas,” I tried snatching the book from his hand, except he was tall, really tall, nearly 6’3 to my 5’5 height.
“No, tell me why you sketch the dress.”
He wasn’t going to stop. Hence, we were in my motel room the next moment, sitting in the middle of the room on the hard floor. Lucas was flipping through the pages of my sketchbook where I designed the clothes.
I told him everything. I told him I wanted to be a fashion designer. And I needed something that would pay my bills, ‘something grown-up and respectable.’ I told him how my parents thought being a fashion designer was a fluttering dream, not a real career.
The only time I ever raised my voice with dad was the fight we had when he insisted I go to a med school. When I was informed that they had already chosen my career, and my dreams and wishes were not going to make any change, Dad and I had screamed at each other, no-holds-barred, for over days after my graduation, until I was too exhausted to argue anymore. Unfortunately, however, my brother was at Harvard studying law and didn’t show interest when I expected him to, in helping me convince our parents.
One day, I had finally had enough, and in defeat, retreated to my room. I didn’t speak to anyone after that, but I accepted the admission to the Med School in Miami, Florida, and never mentioned Fashion Designing again. I barely talked to my parents after that, and now, I will see them after three whole years.
While I am mad at my parents for crushing my dreams, I am furious at my brother for not supporting me. He is the golden child of our family, always doing what is told and never complaining, making everyone happy. I am sure he could have convinced dad if he wanted to, yet he didn’t. He’s been my rock my whole life, and I expected him to stand up for me, but he didn’t do anything.
At the end of my story, and my face was red from anger. I was fuming. I am mad at my parents for pressurizing me. I am mad at George for not standing up for me. I was angry at everything and everyone.
Lucas listened to every word. Nodding at the appropriate times. Sometimes, a person didn’t need advice or answers to their questions but another person to hear them out and share all suppressed inside.
“You don’t know anything about George, Grace. He’s not the golden child. He was struggling at Harvard. Really struggling. And I helped him get in back in tracks. Being the eldest, he had responsibilities. Every person handles things differently. Your brother was simply concentrating on his studies during university. You can’t hold that against him, Grace. You didn’t speak to him about this individually. Therefore he didn’t realize the importance of your dream.” Lucas said sincerely.
I never opened up to anyone before, ever. I didn’t technically know how to. I wasn’t that kind of person to be emotional or vulnerable, and that’s precisely why I’d never done so. My brother was one of my best friends. I used to tell everything. But after everything going on with my career, I just shut down. I left and never turned back.
“People need to remember that not everyone is who they appear to be. Besides being your brother and a son, he is a human being. You can’t expect him to do everything.” When I still didn’t say a word, he continued.
“Sometimes you know we brothers don’t show people who we are as an individual in case we disappoint them and they run away. Hiding in the shadow of your commitments towards your loved ones doesn’t often grant you the opportunity to discover yourself. Look at George as an individual. He just made a mistake, Grace. I have a twin sister, and she lives in Paris. We are close, joined at hips, but in our connection, there is understanding.” Lucas said. It’s true. I always expected my brother to be there for me. And he was. Every time. But that one when he didn’t support, I was disappointed.
I was still processing everything he said when he asked, “Why you chose Miami for your university?” I stared at the wave tattoo on my wrist. Waves are an exciting thing. For some, they wash away the past and represent a new beginning. But for others, they represent the past, and the past never really leaves but just washes up on a different shore. I don’t know. I have always loved the ocean and what it can represent.
“I liked to surf there back when we went there for holidays. It’s all the freedom of flying, but it’s also that warm feeling of being held by something, even if it is water. It’s familiar and perfect.” As I whispered the last part, Lucas was looking at me with fondness.
After few minutes, Lucas smirked, “While we are on the subject of your brother, do you know he is scared of ghosts?” I smirked back, “I know.”
The next moment, Lucas comes back with a spare key to George’s room. I don’t know how he managed to get that. But, unfortunately, George was still not back in his room when we sneaked, and it was 1:00 AM.
“Grace,” I woke up with Lucas whispering in my ear. “Grace, I don’t think George is going to come back any soon. So let head to our rooms.” It’s around been two hours, and I must have slept, and George is still not back. “Okay” We both decide to get out from our hideouts on the floor behind the curtains.
There’s some shuffling outside. Lucas and I look at each other with wide eyes, full of mischief. And in the next five minutes, three things happened. One, I muffled a scream when Lucas unexpectedly put me on his shoulder and stood in the corner of the room. Two, George noticed us after some minutes and cried out so loud, I was sure we would’ve been kicked out of the motel. And three, we all were laughing like maniacs and couldn’t stop.
The night turns out to be enjoyable. There was still tension between George and me, but we decided to put it apart for the night. We played games, and I learned about the hilarious things Geoge and Lucas did in their college days. We talked all night about nothing and everything in particular.
It was past one in the afternoon when we stopped for gas in Spokane Valley in Washington. I couldn’t get a hold of mom’s phone number, so I sent her a birthday text. I hoped she’d be happy about me visiting her. The weather was cold and foggy, but a small cafe was just across the road, promising the best split pea soup in town. So we climbed out of the Mustang, trying to shake the tingles from our legs where we’d fallen asleep, but it wasn’t quite working.
George got out of the car and stretched his arms above his head. “I’ll fill up gas,” he yawned. “Why don’t you guys go get us a table?”
Lucas and I walked towards the cafe, talking and making jokes. We were comfortable around each other now, and he seemed more carefree once he opened up. I was about to sit at our table, though I decided to use the washroom first. “Lucas, I’ll be right back.”
As I moved towards the exit, I heard, “Tell dad I’ve fixed the appointment for tomorrow afternoon. Dr. Brown just sent me the report, don’t worry. I’ll call you back soon. Again a happy birthday, mom.”
The air was sucked out of my lungs after hearing George. “George, what is going on?” He acknowledged me and just sighed.
“You don’t have to worry about anything. Let’s go inside.” He was so nonchalant about this, like he didn’t fix a doctor appointment for dad.
“I want to know George. Now.” Blood was pulsing through my veins by the idea of something happening to dad, and I was kept in the dark.
“George, I think it’s time to tell her.” Lucas appeared by George’s side.
“You knew?” I looked at Lucas with a complete look of betrayal.
“Lucas knows about my dad. Why don’t I? What is going on, George?” I again enquired. I knew George was minutes to lose his cool.
“Grace, I don’t need to add any complications to my life right now. You’re visiting after three years. Let’s not try to ruin this holiday.” He gritted. No, I am not having this, “George, tell me now.”
“Stop asking me questions like you’re one of us. You are not, okay? You don’t have to know about everything. I take control here. I am the eldest, not you. You haven’t tried contacting us these past few years. Don’t act as you care now.” Just after saying this, a look of pure regret formed on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t wait. He said all those things he has been keeping inside. He’s right. I shouldn’t act like I want to know about my family.
Lucas came after me. “He doesn’t mean it, Grace.” I didn’t bulge. He knew something but didn’t tell me. He sighed, “Do you want to go for a walk, maybe?” His face was full of concern. I denied and sat in the back seat of the Mustang, looking at the sky. He left soon after.
Words, I think, are such unpredictable creatures. No gun, no sword, no army or king will ever be more powerful than a sentence. Sword may cut and kill, but words will stab and stay, burying themselves in our bones to become corpses we carry into the future, all the time digging and failing to rip their skeletons from our flesh.
It’s been one hour since nobody said a word. Everything is quiet. I am sitting in the car. Lucas sees through some magazines near the gas station. George, at some distance, has been smoking cigarettes for the past hour. He didn’t come once to apologize, and I know he meant every word he said.
Anyhow, we hit the road in pure silence, a total contrast to our ride in the morning. There was no music or any jokes as we reached the house. The first one to get out of the car was me. It was pretty late in the evening and mom’s birthday dinner was about to start in an hour. So I chose to confront my family tomorrow.
My mom once told me, “Life is fifty wrong turns down a bumpy road. All you can hope is that you end up somewhere nice.” And guess what? I am back at my house. Back to where it all began. Sometimes life leads us where we least expect it.
The house was packed, primarily people who seemed around my parents’ age, in tuxedos and gowns, with waiters passing around trays. My parents and George, standing in the center of the room, seemed to be pulling off the illusion of a perfect family unless you chose to notice how I wasn’t a part of them. I didn’t greet my parents, too angry even to form a conversation. I bet they didn’t know I was present here.
The entire party, I stood in one of the corners feeling out of place. No one came to talk to me. I guess they assumed I was just a part of the crowd and not the daughter of the birthday lady. Then, the cake-cutting ceremony happened, and I was about to step ahead to wish my mom a happy birthday when she was dragged away by her friends.
I saw Max, my former best friend whom I left for selfish reasons, and waved to him across the room. He met my eye but then looked away, and I could see him sigh before he turned and headed toward me, expertly navigating his way through the crowd, his hands stuffed in his tuxedo pockets. I knew I should explain myself to him. He deserved an explanation.
“Hey Max,” I told him as soon as he was close to me. “Don’t try to explain anything, Grace.” He said in his thick accent.
“Listen to me-” He wasn’t in any mood to listen to me.
“No, you listen to me, Grace. I am only here for the winter break, and I don’t want to be associated with you now. I don’t know why you left without a goodbye, but I am done.”
“I am sorry.” I didn’t have anything else to say to him.
“You’re forgiven.” He said, staring at me with his eyes showing no emotions. “My parents died in a car accident just after you left. I needed my best friend by my side then. You showing up here won’t change anything now.” With that, Max left the party, leaving me overwhelmed. I didn’t know about any of this. Sure, mom would have told me about the news if I hadn’t stopped taking her calls.
I was done with this, done feeling like I was responsible for other people’s hurt. The party soon ended but I wasn’t. Instead, I headed towards my mom and dad, “We need to talk.” They were surprised. They forgot about me.
Soon, we were in our library. And with everyone in the room, I point my question towards my dad, “What happened with you? I want the truth.”
He briefly looked at my brother and said, “I had a heart attack last summer. I survived, of course, but I have to deal with monthly doctor appointments and loads of medicines.”
My ears started to buzz, and my head felt foggy, and I let out a shallow breath like it was entirely natural for my body to react this way after hearing this. Millions of questions are swirling in my mind, but the answer to the one I wanted to know more than anything was, “Why didn’t anyone told me?”
George had a pained expression on his face, and my mom mumbled, “We just didn’t know how to.”
Then it hit me. Like a million bricks. “You think I’m weak? You didn’t expect me to understand this? It’s why George didn’t tell me this. He has been protective of me throughout my whole life, except now I understand it. You guys think I’m on the verge of breaking.”
George stepped forward, “No, Grace, we just thought it would be better if we waited.” I stepped back from his embrace, breaking the glass set on the side table, “until?” He sighed, obviously frustrated too, but didn’t utter a word next. Nobody did. Their silence was my answer.
I looked at the shattered glass on the floor beside me. I couldn’t grasp my mind around the situation. I can’t believe everyone decided to keep this from me. It’s like they forget about me. And that has always been my biggest fear. Being alone and forgotten by loved ones.
You are not good enough, not for them, not for anyone. You deserve to be alone. That’s why they never tell you anything. They don’t love you anymore.
My mind was whirring with these thoughts. A wise man once said, “Family wasn’t just defined by blood, it was defined by a mutual feeling of affection and trust. It was a safe haven wherein, the times of need, you could seek shelter and expect that even if people don’t like you at that moment, they would definitely love you back.” Oh, how he couldn’t be more wrong.
I went to my room and collapsed. Nobody bothered me for the rest of the night. I don’t know if I should be upset about that or not.
Daylight breaks in through the curtains, spiling into my room prismatically, just like last night’s shards of shattered glass, and seeps into my skin like prickly thorns. It’s not welcoming and warm. Instead, it’s blazing and fiery.
I ignored all the calls from Lucas and went to Max’s house. I needed to make things right. I apologized for every single item, and he wasn’t angry anymore. Just disappointed. We were out on his porch, sitting and talking. I explained to him everything that has been happening lately.
“Grace, my whole life only you’ve been my best friend, and then suddenly you disappear. Then after one month, my parents die. I was on my own to mourn, to cry, and to let my feelings out. But, look at me now. I am doing great. So my advice would be to just talk to your parents. Okay?”
“Once they’re gone, you wouldn’t have much of a choice, Grace. Talk to George about things, open up. Don’t bottle up your feelings. Whatever you are feeling, say it out loud.” Max muttered, looking up in the sky.
I just realized how vulnerable we humans were. Death comes to one and all, no matter how much that person has to himself or how revered that person is. Life is biased, whereas death doesn’t discriminate. So in a true sense, it is the most prominent preacher of equality.
“I am scared,” I admitted shyly. The tendency to keep to myself potentially prevents me from making connections with others.
“It’s okay to be scared. As long as you don’t let that fear control you. Those who fear have more power than the person who instigates the fear itself. So don’t let that fear lead you to do things you’ll regret.”
Max and I promised to be in touch again and eventually when I got home in the afternoon, I went straight to my parents. Life’s too short to fight with those you care for most. I apologized to my parents and decided to pursue my career in medicine. If being a doctor is going to make my parents happy, I will do it.
Life has a funny way of making your face and encounters things you don’t want to. I was looking through my old belongings in my room when George knocked and came in. “Hey, sis,” He mumbled.
I was still angry with him. He had kept things from me. “I’m fine, George.”
“I want to apologize, Grace.” He sounded tired. He didn’t want to fight me. Nor did I. I wanted peace now.
“No, I should apologize. I was so angry at everyone, and I didn’t realize I was missing out on everything. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did yesterday. I am sorry, George.”
“I am sorry too. I shouldn’t have kept things from you. You are my sister, and I care for you. And you aren’t weak. You’re strong. Too strong, sometimes. You think you need to hold on to this all by yourself. Let me be here for you.” His voice cracked, and his breath hitched. I’d never seen my brother even come close to crying, so it surprised me. I hugged him. He reciprocated instantly, and I didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to hear anything or an “It’s okay.” It wouldn’t help the situation since it wasn’t okay.
After a couple of seconds, he pulled back and showed me the envelope he brought with him, which I overlooked until now. “Here, look at this. It’s your internship letter I got faxed this afternoon.” He must’ve seen my confusion as he further added, “I know you don’t want to be a doctor. Lucas showed me your sketchbook, and I spoke to our parents. We think it would be best if you pursue a career in Fashion Designing.”
I couldn’t keep my tears from flowing through my eyes. The pads of his thumbs brushed the tears from under my eyes. “Thank you, George. Thank you so much. You don’t know what this means to me.” I kept going on and on about how grateful I am for this opportunity.
He sighed heavily. “Just remember that no matter where you are at in life, whether it is good or bad, everything happens for a reason, and you will always have my arms to run to whenever you need someone. I can’t lose you like that ever again.” I nodded and continued crying.
This is it. This is the chance to become my own person and not have to worry about what is coming next. This is the chance to live my dream and truly experience my young adult years without something being in the way.
“Alright, stop it, kiddo. Take care, okay?” I nodded.
But before George was leaving my room, he smirked, “Also, Lucas’s downstairs. And, he is expecting you.”
I went downstairs after some minutes, and Lucas was standing in his casual clothing, waiting for me. He simply looked at me for a moment, then said, tipping his head in the direction of the side porch. “Do you want to go on a walk, maybe?” I smiled at him. And, I went forward.
Toward him, and to whatever came next.
THE END
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