With Love, Kylie

2. "You were too old for that, anyway."

2015 December 20

*knock* *knock*

"I'm coming!" I shouted.

As I walked down my stairs, I saw how my parents were opening the door.

"Hi, honey." My dad said, putting his bags down and wrapping his arms around me.

"We didn't talk much these days. How was work?" I asked.

"Work was good. We're getting bigger and bigger." He smiled. "How was school? Do I need to beat up some boys?" He laughed.

"Dad..." I returned him my laugh. "How was the runway walk?" I turned to face my mother.

"Oh!" She said with a glint of happiness in her voice. "A disaster. My model fainted! How could she do this to our company! She knew how much we looked forward to this!"

"Well, people can't control themselves-" My father started to speak.

"Of course I know that. It just pisses me off." My mother laughed and opened her arms. "Give me a hug."

"Thank you," I said while removing myself from my mother's grip. "Thank you for coming."

2015 December 25

Christmas

My parents sat on the couch near the fire place and the Christmas tree, while I was sitting opposite of them on the soft carpet holding a delicious chocolate brownie in my hand.

"Josey really knows how to cook!" I said, putting that brownie in my mouth.

"I'm surprised you don't have diabetes. You eat sugar like a crazy cat lady." My mother laughed.

"What's wrong with a cat lady?" I asked, swallowing my food.

"Crazy cat lady." My father corrected me.

"I'm glad you asked, sweetie. Well, let's begin from the word lady. Lady is an elegant woman with class and sassiness. She knows how to treat things." She started to speak.

"I am not a lady then." I thought, giggling to myself.

"Cat is an animal. A fury and a cute creature, until she feels like she owns you. You are the owner, not the cat." She giggled. "But, a lady and a cat have many things in common. They don't like to take orders. They're their own person or animal. But they're so different at the same time." She looked at me with serious eyes. "And the word crazy is... Well it's an "accessory" for the word lady and cat. But it's a bad choice of accessory-"

"We get it, Becca." My dad sighted. "I swear to God, you both are sometimes too similar."

"We're not!" We both said at the same time.

"Jinx!" I jinxed my mother. "Can't talk till someone says your name-"

"I will take down your Kindle account if you don't un-jinx me now." She looked at me.

"Becca, Becca, Becca." I said, annoyed that she defeated me. She knows my weakest spot.

"She knows your weakest spot." My dad said out loud.

"My thoughts exactly-" I started to speak.

"Excuse me," One of the maids said. "The food is ready. Shall we bring them here, or you'll eat in the dinning room?"

"Oh, Josey! We'll eat here, thank you." I smiled. "I can help you-"

"There are Joane and Sarah. They will help her." My mother spoke coldly.

"Yes, ma'am." Josey left.

"Why are you so friendly with them?" She asked.

"Because she's like an aunt to me. All of the maids are like aunts to me." I replied, giving her a "what the fuck is your problem" look.

"I know that look, Becca. You won't be satisfied with the result after she cuts your throat with her paws." My dad laughed. "Get it? You called her a crazy cat lady-"

"We get it, Brett." My mother said, quite annoyed by the hilarious joke my father made.

Our maids prepared a delicious "table". By the time I was only half way, I thought my belly would explode like a bomb.

"So when will we open our presents?" I asked, putting down the fork.

"In a few minutes, actually. We want to tell you something." My dad replied, nervous. "Make yourself comfortable on the couch. Or on the carpet, we don't mind."

"So, what's up?" I asked, crossing my legs on the carpet and holding my tea cup in my hands. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

"Actually..." My dad started.

I gasped.

"Stop kidding around." My mother slapped his arm. "I'm not pregnant."

"You were too old for that, anyway." I laughed.

"You're kidding? I'm 39 years old!" My mother looked at me, displeased.

"You're what? I thought you were-" I started to speak. "Never mind."

"Now I won't tell you because my feelings are hurt." My mother pretended to be hurt.

"Sorry not sorry." I sighted.

"I can't do this without your mother's help, so, long story short: always take risks." My father replied.

"Why?" I looked at him, surprised. "Why would I do that?"

"Look, sweetie, if there's a chance - always take it. Because those chances can and will disappear like rain in water." My mother started. "Always risk everything. But, there's only one thing you can't risk."

"And what's that?" I asked, curious.

"Chances." My father replied.

"So, you're saying that if there's another solution, I should take it?" I asked again.

"No, that's not what we meant." My dad shook his head.

"For example, if there's a chance to feel loved, then take it. Risk everything else. Risk every other feeling for this one, even if it is permanent. But don't risk the chance of being loved, because it may not come back to you ever again." My mother smiled. "Now go and open your present."

I stood up, still not believing that my parents could have so much wisdom, walked to the Christmas Tree and looked for my present.

"What's this?" I asked, picking up a small box.

"Well it's a-" My mother started to speak.

"It's a surprise." He interrupted her again.

I gently removed the present wrapping paper and opened the box. Inside of it was a beautiful, pinkish-black amulet.

"Is this...?" I asked.

"It's real." My mother said.

"It represents passion, danger and luck." He smiled.

"And love." My mother kissed the amulet and then my cheek. My father did the same.

I held it in my palm and pressed it, "I love it."

And for the first time in five years not including showers and sleep, I, Kylie Jones Wilston removed my necklace that Elliot gave me.

I replaced Elliot's old, cold and dead love, with a much deeper and immortal love.