Clear

Clear: Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Monarch

The fresh air felt decadent after I stepped outside on Saturday afternoon. A visit to my mother had been long overdue, and a recalibration of my sanity was necessary.

I was still deep in the city. My train led me into an elite residential neighborhood. Anyone looking at my current situation would have never guessed that I had family in the Upper West Side. In fact, the rest of our family was still surprised that my mother managed to reside in such an expensive part of the city.

It was possible for her to live this way, after her marriage to her second husband. Before him, my mother put food on our table through long shifts as a nurse. Through the sore back, shoulders, and feet, I always admired how she would never let her love of the arts go. Whenever she knew my needs were met for the day, she was away in her corner– painting or sculpting. It was her sanity check, it was her flaw to the rest of the family. I never understood how her escape was so problematic to others, but after I grew into a preteen and confirmed the envy around her, I made a point to never interrupt her creativity with my wants.

When I was seventeen, I remembered spending the weekend away from my dorm room on an early fall day. I made it a point to return home to take care of the house so that she didn't have to worry. Without hesitation, I felt the importance of her attending her first art class. The look on her face before she left our duplex was unforgettable. With a smile, I asked what was wrong, and she confessed, "I don't want to be told what I've been doing all along is wrong. That my comfort should conform."

"Then don't let it, mama."

A year passed and one late Saturday evening, I was watching her run down the sidewalk from the distant bus stop– her art caboodle and medium portfolio in her clutches.

"Ada!" I remembered her shouting and smiling. "My instructor wants me to submit my paintings into a showcase!"

I cried before I could say anything. It was the first reaction I had; it was uncontrollable. I didn't know how to explain how proud I was of someone who had already accomplished so much. She didn't need my approval, but when I told her how her joy made me feel, she said, "I always want you to be proud of me, my baby. Of all the people left in this world, I want you to know that I have done this."

The look in her eyes when she stood beside her work was indescribable. It was me, my grandmother, one of my aunts and my cousin who came out to watch my mother shine. It was amazing. I loved every second of it, including the moment my mother caught the eye of a gentleman that I learned was familiar to her.

An old high school sweetheart had made his millions programming away before selling his decade old business ventures to eventually open a jewelry shop in the city. To decompress from the hysterics of business life, he made time to view the abstract in parts of town he didn't belong in anymore. They were inseparable from that night on, and I never questioned her decision to move on and live her life when I saw how much he loved her.

As soon as she was ready to marry him, he moved us out into the Upper West Side; however, I was already in college and didn't need to stay home.

Naturally, I was torn having to be away from her. I was always worried about her new life. To alleviate my worries, she and I would talk often on the phone, dwelling on what it was like to not be in our old duplex. She was still adjusting to the new "quality" of life that this old love wanted to give to us without hesitation. Even after presenting her with the finest things, she was never quick to accept luxury, and he learned to sedate his desires and let her be the girl he remembered.

Now that she had retired from being a nurse, she volunteers as a gallery curator around town and when she wasn't surrounding herself in art, she was making it at home. Her new, even more, beautiful home.