Redeeming Heart

Worth it

I asked Brandon to drop me off at my aunt’s pub and I was slightly surprised when he decided to stay with me. I haven’t said a word since we left my house and he didn’t try to play a hero. He kept quiet and turned up his radio with music that I actually liked.

He was at least old enough to have a drink and Aunt Maggie said nothing when I bought him a drink. “I don’t usually judge, but your dad seems a bit unfair,” Brandon said for the first time since leaving my house.

“I’ve done a lot of things to make him doubt me,” I informed.

He shook his head at me—not agreeing with how my father treated me. “You lost your mom. Hell, I would probably lose my mind if I have to lose my mother. She’s my best friend and the only person I can talk to without feeling like an idiot.”

I hid my tears when I understood his relationship with his mother. “She was my everything. My coach. My biggest fan and best friend.” I haven’t talked about my mom to anyone besides Aunt Maggie. “I completely lost sight of my life when she became ill and I blamed everyone—started to become a lost cause after her passing. Screwing up my life. You don’t even know half of it.”

“Nobody judged you for how you reacted.” I wish it was the truth but I knew better.

“Yet, nobody understood,” I mumbled.

He gave an understanding sigh. “Sometimes I wish the world can stop interfering and judging. Quit messing in and pretending that they know everything.”

I smiled. “It sounds like a perfect world. Invite me when you find that world.”

He chuckled and pulled out a few dollar notes but I held up my hand. “It’s my way of thanking you. You didn’t have to be stuck with me but yet, here you are and it means more to me than you will ever realize.”

“You are worth it, Adams.” He winked at me and still left money behind.

I rolled up the notes and shoved them into my apron. Picked up his glass and wiped the counter clean before noticing Aunt Maggie standing beside me with hands on her hips.

“Your dad called.” She began.

Here we go again. I didn’t utter a word or interfered as I waited patiently for her to lecture me. “I told him that he is a jerk and that you were staying with me tonight.”

Tears burst from my eyes as I let out a chuckle. “Brandon is right when he said that your dad is a bit unfair.” She said, resting her hand on my shoulder. “I promised you that I have your back from now on and that’s exactly what I am going to do.”

“Thanks,” I thanked and hugged her.

I am not really a hugger but for her, I would make an exception. “I made your mom a promise and I am going to live up to it, starting from today.”

I nodded and shot her a grin. “What did he say?”

She rolled her eyes. “Didn’t find out because I hung up.” I chuckled and shook my head.

“You are worth it, kiddo.” She winked at me.

Aunt Maggie didn’t take me home and did as she promised. She let me stay over at her place for the night.

It was difficult at first to enter her house with memories of my mother and me who spent days over at her house. Laughing, talking and just having fun.

The portrait of my mother was still hanging on the wall overlooking the front door and it was hard to believe that Aunt Maggie painted it. She gave up on her artistic dreams and decided to open a pub instead but I know secretly she was still painting. Her nails are a dead giveaway.

“You can either sleep in the guest room or on the couch or I can take you home if it is a bit uneasy for you. Having all these memories of her.” I shook my head.

“Dad took down every single piece of evidence of her and chucked it into a box which he only shoved into the storeroom,” I explained. Walking over to a picture of mom and Aunt Maggie before we found out she was ill.

“The sound of her voice is fading,” I muttered. Taking in my mother’s long natural locks of hair and her beautiful, radiant smile that could lit up a whole room.

“I’m afraid that I will forget her. Her voice, her smell and how it felt to hug her.” It was already hard moving on without her.

“You forget. You have a piece of her with you forever.” She referred to my angel wings tattooed on my back with my mom’s name written in her handwriting.

“My father still doesn’t even know I got them. Mom was so thrilled when I showed them to her. Camille always called her an angel in disguise and she gave me the idea.” Aunt Maggie smiled at me.

“She loved angels. Believed in their magic. Spend every waking minute talking about them and how she wished to witness one before she dies. I sometimes started to believe that she was one herself. With her good and selfless heart.”

“I wish I can be like her sometimes. Forgiving and understanding. She never stayed mad at anyone for too long—no matter what they did. She believed that hatred and anger took a year of your life away.”

“She always did have her own little makeup stories.” Aunt Maggie noted with a knowing smile. “Angela never cared about what other kids thought of her when she was young.”

“I cared too much.” I acknowledged.

“She always lectured me about it because I was the same as you. Told me over and over that this is my life that I was given, and I had to live it according to me.” Mom was always serious about when it came to a person’s life.

I sat down next to her on the couch and even though I was overwhelmed by feelings of regret and despair, I still felt her presence in this room. She was alive in here with pictures of her everywhere. Evidence that she existed.

“I am glad you brought me here,” I confessed.

“Our house feels empty and broken. Almost cold. Her touch of light and life is gone, but here. Her light still shines brightly.” I added with an actual smile.

It’s the first time in three years that I felt close to my mother. Feeling her presence around me and reminding me of what life truly is about.