Hop, Skip, Wed

Chapter 2

"Don't depend too much on someone cause even your shadow leaves you when you're in darkness"

-Anonymous

***

Oh no. While I abhorred being confrontational, my love for children eclipsed any hesitation.

"What's happening here?" interjected a man in his early sixties, dressed in a suit. He had arrived behind us, his tone commanding attention.

"Um... nothing, Sir... she... she was just here to visit... the kids," stammered the woman with the hat, her voice noticeably altered, indicating his superior status.

"No, I was not! I was walking along the streets when I heard a child's desperate screams. I rushed here and discovered her dangling from the tree, with the other children encouraging her to jump, promising to catch her since they were f*******n from climbing trees. She had broken the rule, so her punishment was to descend unaided, which she couldn't due to her fear of heights. That's when I climbed up and rescued her. Meanwhile, these six ladies stood idly by, neglecting their responsibilities," I recounted, adamantly refusing to let them deceive this man, who was evidently their employer judging by the change in the woman's tone.

"Is this true?" he inquired, his voice tinged with displeasure. Slowly, yet inevitably, the children began to nod in affirmation. "Very well, then. It appears the decision has been made. All of you are dismissed. This is not the service I pay you for. I employ you to care for these children."

"We deeply apologize. It will not happen again," they muttered softly, their voices barely audible.

"It's final. You may leave," he declared, turning his attention to me. "Thank you sincerely for saving her."

"It was my duty as a human being. No thanks are needed," I replied, relief and elation coursing through me, knowing that these children would no longer endure the company of these six monstrous women.

"May I speak with you privately?" he requested.

"Certainly," I acquiesced, carefully setting the young girl down.

As we walked toward the fence, he initiated a conversation. "I am immensely grateful that you saved Rose."

"Rose?"

"That's the girl's name. However, that's not the main reason I wished to speak with you. If you have a moment, I would like to share a story."

"Umm... This isn't what I expected, but I'm all ears. I always have time for stories," I replied, willing to indulge his request.

"I, too, was an orphan. The women who worked here at the time were indifferent to our welfare. Then, one day, a new woman arrived. She was unlike the others, a nurturing figure who treated us like her own. She persuaded the boss to dismiss the previous staff. Unlike her predecessors, she genuinely cared for our well-being. After I achieved success as a businessman, I resolved to establish an orphanage where children would receive proper treatment. Yet, it seems these children weren't being cared for adequately. I can't be present all the time to ensure their protection from mistreatment. I require someone I can trust implicitly to look after them. You needn't be present constantly; I will hire additional staff. I simply implore you to check in on them occasionally, demonstrating to these helpers that these children possess someone who genuinely cherishes them."

"Um... I suppose I can manage that," I agreed, contemplating the weight of the responsibility.

Presently...

"Oh, Hope, that's far from the truth. You are more than enough. Never allow anyone to convince you otherwise. We all adore you. And as for your parents... they were foolish to abandon you. Now, wipe away those tears. You have a long and beautiful journey ahead of you. Don't let such adversities dampen your spirits. Most importantly, if they hadn't left you here, you would have never crossed paths with any of us."

"But you're not my real family..."

"Hope, listen to me. Biological bonds do not solely define family. Love transcends blood. The most profound relationships are forged from the heart."

Life, that enigmatic force we all navigate, is a master of surprises. It thrives on defying our carefully constructed plans, revealing the unpredictable beauty hidden within its folds. Alas, I, with my limited perception, struggled to discern such beauty as I settled into my seat, bracing myself for the long journey that lay ahead. This flight would take me back to San Francisco, a voyage that held far more significance than mere geographical distance.

In my family, an ancient tradition dictated that the youngest child be betrothed to a partner selected by their parents. The roots of this practice could be traced back to my great grandmother's union, a marriage forged as part of a lucrative business agreement. Remarkably, their relationship surpassed the unions of my great grandmother's sisters, shining with an unanticipated radiance. Since then, it became customary for the youngest offspring to have their lives interwoven by their parents' matchmaking prowess.

Yet, this tradition did not entail coercion. Should the youngest child refuse the intended union, their decision was respected. No familial force would be exerted upon them. Once the prospective couple was introduced, they were granted the gift of time, an opportunity to acquaint themselves with one another. My grandmother, my mother, and even I had traversed the path of courtship, engaging in relationships with individuals of our choosing before eventually encountering our life partners. This reality neither disappointed nor astounded me; rather, I found myself in a state of neutral acceptance. Though my faith in love remained steadfast, it had evolved to encompass a broader spectrum beyond romantic love. This mindset metamorphosed over time, shaped by life's tumultuous lessons. And now, it was this tradition that compelled me to embark on this arduous journey back to my roots, leaving behind a life I had built in Birmingham over the past seven years.

Before the arrival of the children who now filled my life with boundless joy, I had shared my days with my dearest friend, Ava. Our fateful encounter took place during our middle school years, a fortuitous collision between two souls. Ava possessed a unique talent for mishaps and clumsiness, once spraining her wrist merely by bumping into me. Her ensuing vexation, accompanied by a colorful stream of profanities, left no doubt about her displeasure. She even attempted to seize my phone, though her injured wrist rendered her efforts futile. Witnessing her futile endeavor, we locked eyes and erupted into laughter, cementing a bond that would withstand the test of time.

Ava's journey had led her to become engaged to her high school sweetheart, Mike, before we departed for college. Occasionally, she visited our humble abode, and the children had taken a particular liking to her. Given their inherent wariness towards strangers, it warmed my heart to witness their connection with my dear friend.

"Flight 0947 is now boarding," resounded the announcement over the intercom.