Waiting For You

Chapter Twenty-three

He stopped talking as his eyes were clouded by a memory. I couldn't help but imagine a five-year-old Alex with his ten-year-old brother –Chris couldn't have been always bad-, playing at the beach. During New Year's Eve when I was at his place I had found a family picture hanging and I could roughly imagine what they would have looked like younger.

"I was so oblivious back then. I kind of hate that I grew up and started noticing homophobia and racism and sexism, because after noticing it on strangers... I started to see it in my own blood. And that really sucks," he went on turning his face so that his eyes were hidden by my chest. "I can hear your heartbeat," he told me, changing the subject.

"It would be weird if you couldn't hear it," I replied running my fingers through his hair, tugging on his soft green curls. He huffed against me. I sighed, his head moving along my rising chest. I wouldn't mind staying like this forever.

"I'm sorry to interrupt... it's just... in five minutes," Isabella, Ron's oldest daughter, said with an apologetic smile.

"Oh, it's time for that?" I asked and pushed Alex off of me.

Getting off that hammock turned out to be harder than one would have expected. We ended up bumping our heads together and falling off it in a mess of tangled limbs. I heard muffled snickers from around us but didn't address even one. We went and sat at our seats by the table and waited for Elaine to come out.

She was holding a cake with dark blue frosting on it. Decorated on it were little stars and a crescent moon. After she set it down, everyone had grown a sorrowful expression. My eyes fell on my father as he took a deep breath.

"One more year passes on without you and my soul keeps hurting. In your absence I have changed but, even so, I still long for you to return to me. I'm sorry I couldn't take better care of you. I'm sorry I couldn't help you enough. At least now you are amongst your beloved stars, my dear Estelle," he said closing his eyes.

Every year he switched up the words. But that last sentence always remained. My mother did love her stars. That's why she had studied astronomy, even though she never took it up as a profession.

After a moment of silence, my grandmother cut the cake gave each of us a piece, Aurora being the one to first receive one. Aurora knew we did this thing for my mother –we had told her Mom wouldn't be with us anymore but we still celebrated her-. She understood that everyone was sad about our mother's absence, but she didn't know why. Talking about suicide with a seven-year-old wasn't something any one of us was keen on doing.

A few minutes later I took Alex inside to show him around the house. Back when I was little we used to come every weekend here. We still came once a month or so, but it was different. Coming up here and running around this place was a memory that was tied with my mother. So now everything felt somewhat empty.

"And this is her room..." I told him and reached for the handle.

"Should we?" he interfered, placing his hand on top of mine to stop me. I just waved my hand.

"Grandma has kept it pretty much the same as when my mother was around. She wanted everyone to have a place to remember her," I replied and opened the door.

At once, Alex was left awestruck. The surroundings were familiar, my mother's room looked a lot like mine. It was painted in a dark blue hew, all the walls covered by stars, with a beautifully detailed full moon over her bed. It had very little furniture, just like mine, with a small bookshelf and a white vanity being things I didn't have.

Slowly, Alex walked inside, running his eyes over everything. Finally, he reached her bookshelf, where her sketchbooks were, and by the wooden furniture, painted canvases lied. I sat down by the bed and watched him move.