Show Me How

Stars. So beautiful. With all of their sparkle and light dancing on the pitch-black curtain known as the sky.  God, I wish I was them. To just exist and not be bothered. To just be a huge celestial body of hydrogen and helium. Thousand of light-years from the next star. To be left alone from the dark shadows of life.   “How are you holding up?” Opening my eyes I look around to place the voice to a face. A tired smile comes to my face as I watch Manuel step forward with his suit jacket thrown over his shoulder. "Good. Just imagining tante’s face when she realizes I have been swapping her booze under the sink with water." I say which he laughs as he sits down on one of the airport seats.  "Well, I’m going to miss having you complain all day mon coco. Are you sure you are okay with this? You can always change your mind and stay with us" Sighing I close my eyes and rest my head on his shoulder. If anything staying with him and Maria sounded like heaven compared to the place I was headed to.   "And break mother's promise? You know I can’t do that." Squeezing my hand he let out a long whistle. "You're right. If not I fear your mother would haunt us both."  Snorting, I try to imagine my sweet mother as a ghost. She would have been a happy one for sure, after all, she was always smiling. It was one of the things that made her unique. No news, bad weather, food poisoning, or people could keep her from not smiling. "Have Richard called you yet?” Letting out an annoyed sigh I find my mood turning sour. Not bothering to answer I empty the water bottle with a long sip, wishing it more than before that it was something on the stronger side.  Taking my silence as my answer he clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "Salaud." he curses softly. Laughing lightly I raise my brow at him. Despite his sweet and quiet demeanor, it is rarely I see him curse.  Just as rarely as Richard answers his phone.   "Se détendre. What happened to no cursing?" I jokingly say and poke him, receiving a head shake. Sighing I put a reassuring hand on his and squeezed it. "I’ll be fine. It's only a year, and I am my mother's daughter aren’t I?" Plastering a fake smile I watch him buy it and relax.    After mom passed away 4 years ago you’d think I would end up living with my father. I thought that until Maria and Manuel brought me to their home and told me I would live with them for the time being. Since they had no children I knew raising me those years was hell when they didn’t know what to do. However despite the challenges and ups and downs, they did a greater job of raising me those years than any person, and I know mom would have loved it.  After the funeral and the lawyers coming to read her will, she had left a letter addressed to me with her last wish. On it, she had given me a single instruction, promise, and wish. To stay with my father during my Junior year of High School. While I loved my mother, I hated how much she loved, adored, and looked up to him. Even when laying on her death bed all those years ago, she held onto that stupid dream. The dream of him – Richard Miller.  Co-owner of an American law firm named Miller & Johnson. Always standing next to his 5.2 ft wife in a sharp suit and glasses. The last time I saw him was when I was 11years old. Before that, I saw him even more rarely, a result of their divorce from when I was 5. Which started with visits, which turned to phone calls, which then turned to birthday cards.    The last one was from my 11th birthday and was signed by his assistant.    Then again how can I blame him? Who would want an angsty teen with a sweet tooth for alcohol and midnights walks for a daughter? Not a lot of people and especially not Richard Miller.  "How are you doing mon coco?" Says aunt Maria as her shoes click their way in front of me, taking my chin with her hand as her eyes examine my face. I bet I looked like I haven't had a good night's sleep for weeks. I don't remember the last time I washed my face or the last time I showered. Both the hoodie and joggers I was wearing was the same one I had woken up to wearing.  To say I was feeling like s**t was an understatement.  "D’accord," I say and push her hands away. When the truth was I felt tired, exhausted, and empty. Yet no sleep or meal could satisfy me. Clicking her tongue she lowered herself to my ground, forcing me to look her in the hazel-brown eyes.  Maria or tante Maria was my mother’s best friend. They met together at a show held at the gallery mother worked around the time she had me. Her water broke and Maria who didn't even know her followed her to the hospital and stayed. Since then their friendship has been history. I always considered her and Manuel’s family even though we weren’t blood. After all, I had known them both my whole life, spending both winter breaks and summer breaks with them.    "I can see the demons in your eyes mon coco. Fine is an understatement, especially when it comes to you." Shrugging I give her a weak smile.  She might be right, but as much I loved my aunt, having her cooing me as a broken glass shoe made me feel more cornered than “a safe space” for me to share my thoughts.  "Fine then. I'm still a little thirsty, could you-." Without a word, Maria disappeared into one of the shops.  Letting out a hold in breath I let my head rest on uncle Manuel's shoulders. None of us speak as we enjoy the comfortable silence of airport announcements and planes landing. Closing my eyes the image of her tombstone comes to my sight as clear as a blue sky on a summer morning. “Anne N’Dre Moreau. 1983-2015. Beloved mother, friend, and soul.” It said.  That didn't even sum up her character. She is much more than a beloved character in a movie. She's funny, forgiving, sometimes clumsy, but very patient and calm. She never raised her voice and is a talented artist. Whether it be sculpture, oil-painting, or good old sketching. On top of that, she’s an optimist and sees the good in people.  The sun could be black and the sky could be red, but she always found a reason for smiling, and when she did the room would light up.  I mean she was.   She was all of those things. And now she was none of them. Just another dead name in a yard filled with dead names.    "Here." Grabbing the water bottle from her hand I take a long sip from it.    "Your father finally answered me. He wanted to let you know his wife will be joining him when they pick you up from the airport outside the checkout." She says. Snapping my eyes at her I clench the water bottle tightly.  "That's it if the plane doesn't crash," I mumble softly, which earned a disapproving look from them both. "Stop Alex. It will bring you bad luck and God knows what’ll happen. " She says strictly. Letting out a snort I turn to look at her with a lazy smile.  "Please tante. I have had enough bad luck that God would be cruel to give me more."  That shut her up effectively. "Encore." She began and pinned me with a strict look. "You are going to live in his home for a whole year. Showing some form of respect isn’t asking much."  "No, but it would be a painful facade to carry."     Before any of them can say anything back, my plane is being called on the speaker. Grabbing my bag I heave it over my shoulder. Looking at them both I could still see the worry etched in their features as they stared at me. Just as I am to open my mouth I feel both of their arms wrap around me. For a few seconds, I freeze as they hug me tightly. Slowly I wrap my arms around them and close my eyes with a sigh.  Because as much as I liked to tease, frustrate, and silently shrug at their question as they had figured out what that meant - I was going to miss them. Miss them more than I would like to admit to them, to myself, and to ever say out loud. However as I felt the warmth of their love wrapping around me - I knew that they knew.