A Taste of Cinnamon: Vale's Story

Chapter One

This isn't the first time I've stared at this letter, and I'm sure it won't be the last. Ever since it came in the mail a week ago, I've been weirdly obsessed with it. Pouring over its words again and again, looking for a way that I could've misinterpreted its meaning. But it's so clear. My mother, Katrina Morgan... well, now Katrina Sulley... has completely moved on from me. And I mean, okay. I could understand that. She left my dad and I a long time ago, so of course she would want to move on. It hurts a little, but it's normal.

But finding out that I have siblings she doesn't want me to meet... ouch. I'm laying in my bed, my eyes skimming the letter for the thousandth time, but I just can't find another interpretation. I made the choice not to go to college. I made the choice to pursue a life as a car flipper instead. It's already been fairly lucrative, and I'm hoping to start my own little business doing it someday. But my choice to not go school is the reason why I can't see my siblings. Apparently, my mom is worried that I'll be a bad influence on them. Translation: My mom is ashamed of me and doesn't want my little brother or sister to know anything about me.

The letter was addressed to my dad. I was never supposed to see it. Ironic, considering I'm the one who did see it, and I don't ever plan on showing my dad. He'd be livid if he knew, and I wouldn't blame him. Honestly, I don't even know how to feel about it. I'm a little bit angry, a little bit annoyed, and a lot a bit hurt. The first time I read it, I cried. Broke down. I mean, it's not like I had much of a relationship with my mom. Aside from the occasional birthday card with a few bucks in it, we haven't spoken in years. But this? God, it hurts.

My eyes check the clock on my nightstand, and I see it's just after one in the morning. I groan as I open my nightstand drawer and toss the letter in, telling myself I'm not going to read it again when I know I'm probably going to tomorrow night. Ever since it came in the mail, as a response to my dad sending her an invitation to my graduation, where he also must've told her about my life and the choices I've made for my own future, I haven't been able to sleep well. I keep trying to tell myself it's her loss. I'm her loss. And then I try to play devil's advocate and convince myself that what she meant was something totally different than what she actually said. Then I read it again, and find that, no, in fact, what she said is exactly what she meant. Which leaves me pissed off and hurt all over again.

"You know what?" I tell myself as I punch my pillow in an angry attempt to fluff it up before I slam my head back against it. "She can fuck off. I don't need her. I've lived without her this long. Just forget it, Vale. Forget it and go to sleep." I roll over in my bed and squeeze my eyes shut tight, but... surprise of the century... I can't sleep. All I can think about is that damn letter sitting in my nightstand drawer.

After trying for half an hour, I finally sigh in frustration and get back out of bed. Then I slide on a pair of jeans and an old white t-shirt before quietly sneaking downstairs so as not to wake my dad. I slip my shoes on and make my way to the garage. If I'm not going to sleep, then I'm going to make myself useful and work on my truck. I open the door to the garage, lift the hood of the truck, and start trying to examine it to see what it needs. I'm so tired that I'm not sure I'll be able to figure it out tonight, but I'm definitely going to try.

A few minutes go by, and I find that the problems with my mom begin to drift away with the turn of my wrench. This is my peaceful zone. The place where I can distract myself from all the loud shit going on in my head. I'm not good enough for my mom. I'm making a mistake by not going to college. I'm totally fucking up my stupid life. All those thoughts shut up as I bury my head in the hood of this truck, and finally, I feel like I'm at peace.

And just as I'm about to call it a night, I feel a vibration on my wrist. My eyes look down, and I see the light on my bracelet is on. Immediately, my heart, which was finally calming down, kicks right back into overdrive. I stare at the bracelet for a few moments before I set my wrench down and press down on the button before diving back into the engine of my truck. But I can hardly concentrate, because I know that Gen will be here any second. This is what she always does. She taps on the bracelet to make sure I'm awake, and when I reply, she comes over, usually bringing some kind of treats with her. Like she has to bribe me to stay up and talk with her. Which is definitely not the case.