JANUARY
SARAH
Life isn’t a bed of roses.
I learned that bitter truth at a very young age when my parents died in a ghastly car accident. At age five, I didn’t understand why everyone around me was crying and saying their condolences, but I knew that something bad had happened and when my parents never came to pick me up from my Aunt Bella’s house, I figured they were gone forever.
‘’Aunty, why won’t mummy and daddy come back for me? Don’t they love me anymore?’’ I would ask as I clung to my favourite teddy bear, Mr. Snuggles, gifted to me on my second birthday.
‘’They loved you so much,’’ Aunt Bella would say in between tears and hiccups, “even more than you could ever imagine. But they’re in heaven now and they’re watching over you.’’
After the accident, Aunt Bella, who was thirty at the time and my father’s younger sister, was granted sole custody of me. She was the only relative willing to take me in and she raised and took care of me like I was her daughter. She did everything a parent would do even though she had little to no idea of how to raise a five-year-old. I believed she raised me well because I didn't turn out to be a bad person.
“Aunt Bella, I’m home,’’ I said as I approached the door of the house I’d known for the most part of my life. I put the key in the keyhole and turned it, breathing in the familiar scent I’d grown to love. Every morning, as a routine, Aunt Bella always put two scented candles in the living room. According to her, it helped to expel demons and chase away bad omens. She most likely read that in one of those fashion and beauty magazines she indulged in from time to time.
“I’m here,’’ she responded in between coughs. I dropped my bag to the ground and rushed to her side. “Are you okay? Do you need water?’’ She nodded wordlessly and I grabbed the flask from the table next to her. Pouring the clear liquid into the glass, I brought it to her lips. ‘’I can’t stand this anymore. We need to see a doctor. Something is going on.’’
“No, I’m fine,’’ she protested immediately. ‘’It’s just a little cough. I don’t need to see a doctor.’’
It was more than that and she knew it. A “little cough” does not last for six months; she was way too stubborn to go to the hospital no matter how many times I had begged her to. She didn’t want to face the reality of her apparent condition, but I did.
If anything happened to her...I wouldn’t even want to think about my life without her. I googled her symptoms a while ago and everything pointed to cancer, the one thing I feared. I refrained from telling her because it was not easy to convince a fifty-four-year-old, Texan-born and bred, strong-willed superwoman to do something she was not willing to consider even for a moment.
“It’ll go away soon.’’ That was her favourite mantra! ‘’In the meantime, tell me about your day. How was job hunting?’’
As usual, she changed the subject and I bit my lip in frustration.
“Horrible,’’ I groaned. “I’m not qualified for any of these jobs. I dropped my resume at a couple of places but I haven’t had a callback.’’
I wasn’t a bad student in high school; I wasn’t a genius either, but I got above-average grades. My teenage years were rocky because I struggled with mental health problems, an eating disorder, and I did drugs at some point. My parents' death, coupled with a teenage rebellious spirit was the only excuse I had at the time for my behaviour. I put my aunt through hell and I was insufferable. I was surprised she didn’t kick me out of her house because she had every reason to. That was one of the reasons why I loved her. She put up with my bullshit and never gave up on me, even when I was a mess.
I managed to get my high-school diploma and got offers to go to colleges in and out of state, but I declined them all. Going to college straight out of high school was not the path I wanted to take. Aunt Bella thought it was unusual, but she didn’t question the direction I had chosen. At the ripe age of eighteen, I kissed her goodbye and backpacked all around the world: I worshipped with Buddhists in India, volunteered at a disability centre in Croatia, taught English to school-aged children in a remote village in Kenya, and basked in the sun and surfed with a few natives in the aborigines of Australia.
Traveling the world for three years was a learning experience, a chance for me to discover who the real Sarah Lane was, not the ‘girl whose parents died in a car accident’ as I was fondly called in high school. A million faces and locations later, however, I felt a void. Sure, I intended to discover myself and to an extent I did, but I missed my aunt-the one person who didn’t abandon me or leave me in the cruel hands of the foster care system. Phone calls daily and regular postcards during the holidays weren’t enough so, after three years of exploring, I came back to Angelwood, Texas.
After my arrival, I got a job at a coffee shop called Surburbia, which was a walking distance from my aunt’s house. I had been working there ever since.The tips were good and that was partly because Surburbia was located in the heart of a host of big tech companies. CEO’s, CFO’s, COO’s and tech moguls frequented the shop, not necessarily because the coffee was five-star quality (Aunt Bella made better coffee in her sleep), but it was proximate.
However, the owner of Surburbia sold it, without so much as a thirty-day notice or warning to his employees, to some company and I was now left without a job while the coffee shop had already been turned to rubble.
“I’m sure they’ll call you soon. Good things sometimes take time,’’ Aunt Bella reassured me, trying to be optimistic, but I didn’t share her enthusiasm. Why? Because disappointment and I were best friends at this point. The last thing I’d ever do is get my hopes up. With only a high school diploma and a competitive job market, the odds were not in my favour.
“Why don’t you consider going to college?” Aunt Bella said as she curled on the couch. ‘’You have the means to. It’ll give you an edge.’’
I knew what she was talking about but I had a nagging feeling in my stomach that she had cancer, denial or not. Treatment was going to be expensive and I needed to be prepared, even if it meant sacrificing my college fund.
"I'm saving the money for you. College can wait."
‘’Absolutely not!’’ she objected immediately. “Your parents left you that money so you could go to college. Besides, I have health insurance.’’
And a pile of debts to pay. Her health insurance was not going to be enough to cover cancer treatments.
Before they died, my parents set up a college fund for me and left it in the bank. I was eligible to access it once I turned eighteen but I left it where it was because I didn’t want it. It was a cruel reminder that they were never coming back.
I referred to it as blood money.
"Trust me on this one. You need it more than I do. I could always get a student loan.’’
Aunt Bella insisted. “I won’t allow you to blow over forty-thousand dollars on me. It’s your inheritance.’’
“You’re my inheritance,’’ I responded lovingly as I gave her a hug on the sofa. “If you didn’t take me in and raise me, I don’t know what my life would have been like. I love you so much and I want to take care of you. Please, let me do that.’’
My eyes landed on the framed pictures on the wall, pictures depicting important moments in my life that she documented, like my sixth birthday, my first soccer game, and our first Christmas together. Hell, she even framed the first time I sprained my ankle while I was playing catch with a couple of kids in Angelwood Park..
“I still object,’’ she said softly. “You can’t throw your life away for me. I’m older and you have your whole life ahead of you.’’
That earned her an eye roll from me and a smile. “You’re not old at all. You’re still as young as ever.’’ Aunt Bella looked good for her age. Many people assumed we were siblings because we looked alike: dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, narrow nose, and full lips. We came from a family of blondes, so the similarities were very striking.
“I can’t wait for you to go out on a date,’’ I squealed at the possibility of her finally getting a boyfriend. ‘’That’s why I want you to get better, so you can go out and meet people. You’ve dedicated your whole life to taking care of me and I’m older now. I want you to live your life.’’
As usual, she waved me off dismissively. The topic of dating and marriage didn’t appeal to her. She once told me that it was better to remain single than divorced and in a custody battle with an ex like most of her friends who had married early. When I came into her life after my father’s death, it was an answer to her prayers. She didn’t want marriage but she did want a child. She had me and she was happy and is still happy, I guess. I don’t know if she ever dated anyone; if she did, she never brought any of them around me and she never introduced anyone as her boyfriend.
“I’m fine just the way I am.’’
Deciding not to push it, I changed the subject. “I got a call back from this company called Onyx and Co. It’s just down the street from Surburbia, so that’s good news.’’
I applied to be a personal assistant to the CEO of Onyx and Co three months ago. After not hearing from them, I assumed they tossed my resume in the trash because I wasn’t qualified. Again, I didn’t get my hopes up.
‘’You should have started with that, sweetie,’’ Aunt Bella responded, elated. ‘’When did you get a callback?’’
‘’Today.’’ After another failed job interview. ‘’On my way home, I received a call from them. They said my interview is tomorrow by nine am.’’ I tried to contain the grin that was threatening to erupt from my face. Finally, someone was giving me a chance. It was hardly a victory lap, but I was happy either way.
“We should celebrate. I can order pizza if you like,’’ she offered as she attempted once again to stand up from the sofa. “I haven’t gotten the job yet, plus you should still lay down.” Kicking my shoes off from my feet and holding the three-inch heels in my hands, I moved to the kitchen. ‘’Have you eaten?’’
‘’Pork Roast. Ordered it from Munchies. Your portion is in the fridge.’’
‘’Yum.’’
“You should be excited,’’ Aunt Bella called out, though the words came out croaked. “Something tells me that you’re going to get that job.’’
“I hope you’re right,” I whispered to myself.