Chocolates and Beer

XVIII

I've been going places for the past weeks. There was one place in my mind that I wanted to go to, but I couldn't seem to get my feet in that place. It feels like there's a certain weight that is keeping me stuck, and my courage is nowhere to be found whenever I think about it.

It's another fine morning in Hawaii. The breeze together with the sound of the waves is calming and the color of the sunrise slowly bursting out in the sky is such a gorgeous thing to see. With a cup of coffee in my hand, I sat by the window and watched the sunrise. It makes me feel like, at that certain time of the day, I'm one of the blessed people who could see such beauty. It made me forget everything for a while and just admire the whole scene, but the sound of a new message interrupted my peaceful moment.

"It'll be your mom's death anniversary next week. Hope you can come and visit her grave." I read Aunt Betty's message. I had already cut ties with my father and all of his family after mom's death, but Aunt Betty seemed to always find a way to find my contacts. The good thing was that aunt stopped going into my house, or anywhere I might be. Maybe my father had already talked to her. I'm sure that he knew where I was but just respected the boundary that I drew between us. Let's just say he's looking after me silently.

"Am I being too dramatic? When will I stop hurting? This is getting too exhausting." I asked myself.

One step, 2 steps. I am slowly walking outside the Vancouver International Airport. It's past midnight. The trip was a last-minute decision. This will be the first time that I'm back in this country in a while. The place is good; the food, the weather, the atmosphere. The maple trees. But the memories are not. I didn't even manage to book a hotel. Well, let's use my luck tonight. Hopefully, I get a room somehow.

"Jean!" Aunt Betty shouted. I was so surprised to even react. I never told anyone about my plans. I'm now sure that my father and Aunt have some Intel who spies on my whereabouts.

"Are you surprised?"

"Not really."

"Haha, I know. I'm here to pick you up."

"It's okay. I can manage."

"No. I've come all the way here. Don't waste my efforts dear. C'mon. I've already cleaned your room."

"Thank you, but I'm not planning to stay there. I have already booked a hotel room."

"No, you didn't."

"What?"

"Dear, you know me." Auntie Betty knows everything.

"Seriously. Have a life. Get married."

"Tried it once. Didn't work out. That's not for me." I forgot. She's divorced. Although it was a political marriage, Aunt was in love. They were happy until the marriage became messy. She would turn a blind eye to his affairs until the moment she woke up and thought to herself: "I'm not made for this. It's not worth wasting my life here. So, she got up. Went to the lawyers' office and filed for a divorce. She said fairy tales aren't so bad but always keep reality in check. How do I know about this? Well, there was a time when Aunt would just go to my room uninvited. She would bring snacks when I was just trying to watch TV in my room. I can't even concentrate on the movies because of Aunt Betty's stories. But at some point in my life, I missed her childish behavior. She would always disturb me, but I always feel welcome and loved by her.

"C'mon, it's late. It'd be hard to find a hotel now. You can look for one after you rest, but stay in the house for tonight." Having no other choice, I just let the driver take my bags while Aunt is pushing me inside the car."

"Good morning, my lovely niece." Aunty Betty greeted me with a big smile. She's like a ray of the sun because of her bright attitude. I appreciate it because it somehow lifts the mood in the room. But her loud voice could possibly be heard by the neighbors most of the time, causing my head to ache. I thought she and my father were like me and Dan. They also lived in the same house even though they have a lot of property. She's older and has been taking care of my father since my mother passed away.

"Good morning." Father greeted me without lifting his eyes from the newspaper.

"Good morning." I greeted him back, but my eyes were everywhere other than the people in the room.

"What a wonderful morning, isn't it?" Aunt commented. We ate breakfast with Aunt doing all the talking. My father and I were either just nodding or not responding at all. After some minutes, I stood up and thanked them for the breakfast.

"Are you going to your mother's grave?" Aunt inquired.

"Yes."

"Oh, let me give you a ride. Just wait a bit..."

"NO!" I shouted. "Sorry, I didn't mean to shout. But no, I want to be alone. If you don't mind," I explained in a rather embarrassed voice. Aunt might be very loud and nosy, but I also know that she's just concerned.

"Sure," Aunt responded with a very understanding voice.

"At least let the driver take you there," Father said. I wanted to refuse, but he insisted. "He'll just take you there and go back. Don't worry, you won't be disturbed," he said without lifting his eyes.

"Alright."

The car stopped in front of the cemetery for about 5 minutes now, but I'm still frozen inside the car. It feels like my feet are glued on the floor.

"Miss Jean?" The driver inquired. "Are you okay Miss?"

"Ah, yes." I grabbed the handle and that's when I realized that my hands were shaking. Taking all the courage I have with me, I managed to open the door.

"Do you want me to wait for you?" the driver asked. He's a man obviously in his 60s. When I stayed in Canada before, this very man was my personal driver. According to Aunt Betty, my grandfather took him in when he was still young, sent him to school and has been working for them ever since. He's like a big brother to them and always there for the family. He's so loyal that he didn't marry and spent his life serving them. When I heard this story, I thought that my grandfather was a good man, so I couldn't understand why he would go to such an extent as to forcefully bring my father to Canada and separate my parents. Maybe he has the heart to help but not the heart to let any poor people inside the family tree.

"No. You can go back now." I smiled. "And please just call me Jean, Sir Louie. You've been taking care of me, so thank you so much."

"No problem, Jean. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Sure will, thank you again." One last smile, and then he drove off to give me my privacy."