Painting Paper Hearts | ✔

Chapter 3- Home Is Where Your Heart Is

With a wry smile, I brushed off the thought. "We're going to Toronto. I thought that maybe we can see dad's mural and go around the city, go to the CN Tower or maybe go to Niagara Falls. It's really popular. Just think of it as a treat from me."

The background music made my nerves worse as the timpani bang wildly; the violins created a suspenseful tune that made my voice fade as I finished my sentence.

Mom was not impressed as she shot me daggers. A lump in my throat prevented me from speaking up. Dad was as good as taboo, and mentioning about Toronto was enough to give me the death glare.

She sighed. "I appreciate you doing this but we are not going to there. Absolutely not." she attempted to walk out but I stopped her.

"Why?" My heart thumped in uneven beats from my bold act to ask.

She studied me with raking gaze. I'd never seen mom so angry over a simple question. Why was she acting weird every time I mention dad or Toronto? It was just a simple visit.

"We're not going back there and that's final. Understand?" she said with finality in her tone.

I smiled bitterly. As much as I wanted to pry and get answers, it would only get me into so much trouble. I did not expect her to be this upset, though. I thought I was doing the right thing.

"I just thought you'd be happy if I take you with me," I said to mom. "Besides, I really want to go see dad's art."

"Emerald, drop the subject. You are not going there." Her matriarch tone made me cower. When she thought she had made her point clear, Mom marched out of the living room, leaving me to a state of shock.

Nana tried to comfort me but I turned my back and ran to my old, little sanctuary— my room.

As soon as I opened my door, a hint of newly lit apple cinnamon candle that I adore during the cold winter nights welcomed me. I sat on the edge of my single bed that was neatly arranged, pillows stacked high. Even my sheets were fresh out of the dryer. The warm heat ran through my palms and the refreshing smell of mom's usual softener made me feel at home.

I smiled inwardly at the thought. This is home, idiot.

Even though I was away for school, mom and Nana took care of my room as if I was here the whole time. I could almost imagine them folding my clothes and putting them away even though I'd told them countless times that I'd do it myself. I think she was forgetting that I was already nineteen— capable of moving out to explore the wonders of life and the world had to offer myself. But I couldn't help but feel shameful of my childish act two minutes ago.

"What's gotten into her?" I muttered to myself. It'd be a waste if I didn't convince her to come with me. I had purchased the tickets and it'd be a waste to not go.

I sighed. I should've taken Erin's advice to ask mom's permission first. After all, she had too much in her plate.

I waited for a few days to let her think about it. But few days did not help either. She was obviously furious. Every single one of my attempt to talk to her about Toronto was a flop.

I wasn't sure if it was her maternal antennae working, assuming that I would convince her to move there, but whatever it was that held her back left me extremely curious.

Every time I decide to sit back and wait for her to cool down, the more I realize that I was just wasting my precious time. Aside from my occasional running errands for Nana, quick shopping with Erin, and sleeping in... summer hadn't been exactly exciting.

The fruitful days of the month of spring were slowly decaying and I didn't want to spend the rest of vacation moping around and waiting for a miracle to happen.