1.
MOVING
I never thought I would ever live outside of New
York, my place of birth, my most-of-my-life-events-happened place, my home.
Nevertheless, here I was, waiting for the
plane to land at the airport, which is in Paris. When it landed, I took my backpack
that I put under the seat, stood up immediately, bear in mind that I was now in
a very different place from my hometown, and headed for the door. The flight
attendant assigned to take care of me (why?) because I was underage to travel
alone from U.S. to France smiled and said goodbye to me. I smiled back at her,
hoping the smile looked sincere enough and, at the same time, lifting my glum
mood.
I reached the airport building and
hurriedly went to retrieve my luggage. Then, I went to the immigration counter
to have my passport checked. After through all the processes, I went to one of
the shops in the airport to buy something to eat and drink because my stomach
was growling. I have not eaten anything since I got on the plane.
I stopped on the way to Western Cuisine Palace that I spotted because I thought I heard
someone called my name. I spun around and found out who was calling me. “Dawn!”
she called. “Welcome to Paris! I’m so glad you made it. How was your flight?”
“Fine,” I lied.
“Are you hungry? Let me bring you to eat at
the restaurant. We can talk on the way. There’s so much to talk about and we
don’t seem to have much time,” then she laughed.
“Okay. Thanks, Aunt Julia,” and I smiled.
Aunt Julia was my mom’s sister. She moved
to Paris since she graduated from the University of Dartmouth. She found her true
love here while working as a chef in a famous restaurant. They married and have
two children, studying in the International School of France.
“How’s your mom? Is she still working as a
CEO in your dad’s company?” Aunt Julia asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
We
reached Aunt Julia’s car, a black BMW sedan, and she helped me put my bags at
the back seat of the car. “Why did you decide to move here with us? I thought
you love New York,” she asked me again.
“Well, I do love New York, with all the
shopping malls and stuff, but my parents were too busy with their works at the
company. They do not spend much time in the house and I felt very lonely, despite
my friends always come to have a sleepover party at my house,” I confessed. I
always felt that Aunt Julia is like my best friend. I can talk about anything
with her, and she would listen and sometimes she would advise me to do or not
to do the things that I asked.
“Hmm, that really sounds like Judith. She
always wants to do her best in every aspect, but she’d forgotten her
responsibility towards her family, towards you,” she said, pointing at me. We
were in the car right now, and she was driving, heading to the restaurant she
worked at.
We were quiet all the way, after what Aunt
Julia said about my mom. I knew what Aunt Julia said was true, but I still
can’t accept that my mom had forgotten me over her works. I do understand that
she was busy with her works, but I don’t seem to be able to accept that she was
the one who sent me here, because she thought that I don’t like living with
them. She thought that I was in a bad mood everyday was because I don’t like
living in the 3-storey bungalow, or because the house was too big, or I was
uncomfortable living in a house that was big. She never even listens to me when
I tried to explain to her that all I wanted was their attention even for a little
while. At least they spent their times on the weekends with me, not with their
office mates.
We reached the restaurant Aunt Julia worked
at, La Cuisine Paradise. A waiter was
waiting at the door of the restaurant to greet customers. The waiter greeted
Aunt Julia in French, and she replied him back in English. She knew that I
don’t understand even a bit of French. Out of the corner of the waiter’s eyes,
she winked at me and smiled. I knew at once that she’s going to become my
French teacher. I chuckled quietly at the idea, wondering how she would teach
me.
Aunt Julia picked a table at the far corner
of the restaurant, hidden within the view of the other customers, and asked me
to sit down while she went into the kitchen and cooked my favorite dish for me.
When she was gone, a waiter saw me, quickly came to my side, and gave me the
menu. “Uh oh,” I thought. “I can’t read French! I can’t even speak in French!”
The waiter waited, smiling at me while I
looked at the menu. After a while, I gave him the menu back and said in
English, “I don’t think I want to order anything yet. I’m waiting for my aunt.
She’s a chef of this restaurant. Her name is Julia and she’s now in the
kitchen.”
I was shocked when the waiter replied me in
English. “You are Chef Julia’s niece then? It’s very nice to meet you. Do you
want me to call her?”
“There’s no need for you to do that, thank
you. She knows I’m here, because she’s the one who brought me here. I’m waiting
for her to cook a dish for me,” I replied with a smile.
“Okay then, let me know if you need
anything else, okay?” he said.
“Okay, thank you.” He bowed and went to serve
another customer that was just arrived.
Aunt Julia came out from the kitchen, which
the door was just about 10 feet from where I sat, with a simple yet smelled
delicious dish on a plate she was holding. She put the dish in front of me and
asked me to dig in. The dish was indeed my favorite dish, salmon fillet with
Thousand Island dressing, French fries and fruit and vegetable salad dressed
with olive oil. I ate the food quickly and Aunt Julia chuckled at my reaction,
maybe because I looked like someone who hasn’t eaten for a decade.
After I finished everything, including the
coke, Aunt Julia laughed. “You are hungry, aren’t you? When was the last time
Judith fed you?” Then she laughed again. I blushed and quickly excused myself
so that I can wash my oily yet slightly pink face in the toilet.
We were in the car when Aunt Julia asked me
to buckle up. I obeyed her instruction because her face was serious all of a
sudden. Then, without any warning, the car shoot forward and all I could see
was a blurry sight of the city. In a nick of time, she slowed down and parked
her car in a garage. Wow. She was a driving maniac.
“Very exciting, isn’t it?” Aunt Julia asked
excitedly. I was shocked that I can’t speak a word. Instead of answering her, I
just nodded. She got out of her car and started calling into the house.
“Harrison! Clara! Come down this moment if you want to see your favorite New
York cousin!”
A few seconds passed, and then I heard two
thumping of the feet sound, as if they were running down from a staircase. The
door burst open and I saw a girl and a boy, about my age, smiling broadly as if
they never smiled before at me.
“Dawn!” the blonde-haired, pink lips,
brown-eyed girl shouted and hugged me so tightly that I couldn’t breathe. “I
miss you so much! Why didn’t you ever come to visit?”
“Can’t… Breathe… Hug… Too… Tight!”
“Oops! Sorry! I’m just so excited to see
you.”
I gasped a lungful of air and sighed. I
smiled at her and hugged her back. “I miss you too, Clara, and I’m so very
sorry that I didn’t visit for a while. It’s just that both of my parents are
very busy with their work and they don’t have the time to travel more often
than before.”
“I know. Uncle Jordan and Aunt Judith are
workaholics. You can’t blame them for being so busy. They just wanted you to
have a secure finance for your future. I’m very sure that’s the reason they
worked so hard.”
I released her and turned to face the boy
that was waiting for her sister to finish her hugs-and-miss-you thing near the
door. “Harrison.” I opened my arms wide to hug him. He seemed hesitant at
first, but he hugged me back anyway.
“You don’t know how excited Clara was when
she knew you were going to stay here for a while. I can’t even sleep at night
because of her rattling and was always punished by my teacher because I dozed
off during classes. I’m glad you made it and welcome.” That’s Harrison,
alright.
“I miss you too. You looked taller now.
What have you been eating?” I teased him back and he laughed. He looked almost
like Clara, except he was taller, has a broader chin and tan-skinned. He is
actually Clara’s twin brother, except they are non-identical twins. They have the
same hair and eye color. It’s genetic, because my mom and Aunt Julia are
non-identical twins too. I was supposed to have a twin brother, but he didn’t
survive and died after he was born.
“Where’s Uncle Theodore?” After I said his
name, he was standing right beside me. I jumped when he hugged me from my right
side. His skin was warm against my cold skin. “Hi, Dawn. It’s good to see you
again. We missed you and your jokes so much.” He giggled, probably at a memory
when I last visited them during my school holidays a few years ago, when I was still
a happy and playful girl.
“I miss you too, Uncle Theodore. It’s good
to be here with all of you. Thank you for having me here. I hope I’m not so
much trouble for you.” Uncle Theodore released me and looked at me with a
puzzled look on his face. “Trouble? Not at all! We were very delighted to have
you here. By the way, call me Uncle Theo, if you don’t mind. It’s like I’m in a
very important occasion when you called me Theodore.” He giggled and released
me from his hug.
“Let me help you with your bags, Dawn.
Clara will show you the room you’re going to use during your stay here. And
just like dad, call me Harris.” He smiled and disappeared into the garage.
Clara led me into a room with a carved
wooden sign hanging on the door. “Harris and I carved it for you during our art
class. I hope you like it,” she said.
“Like it? I love it! It’s beautiful!
Thanks.” They carved the pinewood with my name and colored with my favorite color,
blue. There were some other decorations on it, but Clara pushed me into the
room. I stopped dead at the door, shocked to see a very unimaginable room. I
know the twins loved to decorate their guest room, but this room was
unbelievable.
They decorated the room so that it looked
like the outdoor. The walls were painted dark blue, with small white star-like
shape painted all over the wall. The bed was a single bed with a beautiful
white and blue stripes bed sheet. On the opposite side of the bed was an oak
wood study table with bendy snake lamps on the wall. Next to the study table
was a glass bookshelf. I regretted that I didn’t bring my novels with me. The
dresser was made of pinewood too, and was decorated with beautiful
woodcarvings, and big. I mean, huge!
“The dresser…?” I asked Clara who was
standing beside me.
“Don’t worry. I know you don’t like
expensive things. That was a gift from Grandpa Joel. He’s a carpenter. He lives
just a few blocks from our house. His wife, Grandma Anna was our house cleaner.
She quit because of her health problems a few weeks ago. I’m going to bring you
to their house later this evening and introduce you to them. You’ll like them.
They’re very friendly.”
I was standing next to the dresser tracing
my finger along the carvings when Harris knocked at the door with my luggage. I
helped him carry the bags and thanked him. Both he and Clara left the room for
me to have some privacy and to start unpacking.
I looked out the window next to the bed,
unable to stop myself not to think about my parents’ decision, and tried to
restrain my tears from flowing out but failed. I was glad the twins were not in
the room with me. I stood there for a long time, letting the tears silently
poured out.
