Hanging by a Moment

6 (Part 2)

Chapter 6 (Part 2)

I like what I see but I shouldn't. Why? It's because Nolan is who I see. All my brain could managed to think was his eyes. Trying to cover up my embarrassingly obvious blush that had invaded my face, I quickly switched it to a look of boredom.

"Why are you here?" I rudely asked. I guess my dislike for him finally decided to make an appearance. He ignored my attitude and instead gave me a bright smile. I fought the urge to smile back, I know that I danced with him at prom but that's as far as I want to rekindle this friendship.

"I'm here to mow the lawn." He offered as an answer to my question.

"We have a guy for that." I replied.

"He canceled, so I'm his replacement." He answered.

I give him a skeptical look but opened the door wider to let him in. He follows me into the kitchen and is given a warm welcome by my aunt.

"Oh sweetheart, you've come just in time," she says as she kisses his cheek, "all of the equipment is outside, and I've made you some juice and a sandwich for when you're finished."

My aunt doesn't know the reasons for our breakup so she doesn't treat him any differently than she already did. And to put it nicely, she treats him like a god. I gag at the scene in front of me. At my interruption they both turned their heads in my direction. My aunt smiles at me with fake innocence, and Nolan bats his long eyelashes at me like a five year old school girl. To say I am irritated by them is an understatement, so instead of mouthing off I walk upstairs into my room. While going up the stairs I overheard my aunt saying how nice it is that Nolan volunteered do mow the lawn for free. Sneaky stalker!

 As I walk into my room, I climb unto my bed and stretch out my limbs. To distract myself from looking out the window, I grab my phone and continued to read a book I had started on Wattpad earlier. After a couple of minutes of mindlessly staring at my phone screen I gave up on reading. I made my way over to the huge window in the bedroom and kneeled down in front of it. Pulling the lavender curtains apart, I peeked out of the window, feeling like a creep in my own house.

It didn't take me long to locate Nolan, as I followed the loud humming noise from the lawnmower. He had started on the right side of our large backyard and was already sweating from the unrelenting rays of the Florida sun. It was only minutes after six but the sun was nowhere close to setting during this time of the year. He had a grey sleeveless shirt on, and black cut-offs with black Vans. His back was to me, so I ashamedly took this opportunity to look at his rippling muscles.

As if he knew I was staring at him, he turned around quickly and lifted his sunglasses and stared back at me. Cowardly, I hid behind the curtains. I peeked out once more just in time to see him smile and wave. Great, fan-freaking-tastic, he caught me red handed. Deciding that I had done enough spying for the day, I closed the curtains and went over to the full-length mirror.

Our room had been converted a while ago from two small rooms into one large one. There was enough space for two full-sized size beds, and for me to have enough room to dance comfortably. I put my ballet shoes on and started working on my pirouettes. I was always challenging myself by trying to see how many I could do without growing tired. I had just passed forty when my door started to slowly open. I stopped in my tracts expecting to see, Maya, Danny, my auntie, or even Nolan. To my surprise, it was my mother.

She made no move to step inside, and just fiddled with her fingers in the doorway. I could sense she wanted to say something but made no attempt to pry it out of her. Unconsciously I shifted into first position. Her eyes followed the movement of my feet and she took three steps into the room.

"Your aunt's been telling me that you are a lovely dancer." She complimented. I smiled and nodded, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze. She looked around the room, taking extra-long looks at the pictures frames on the walls. There was one picture in particular that she stared longingly at. It was our family picture from a few years ago; Maya, Danny, and I were all in red dresses, as we looked up at my aunt with love clear in our eyes.

"You girls have grown up to be very beautiful. I would like to think I had a small part in that." She said after a long minute laughing mostly to herself.

I know what she means by her remark but I still asked, "In our growing up, or in our being beautiful?"

My question made her physically cringe as she stepped away from me. She wore a pained expression on her face that succeeded in making me feel bad about my question/comment.

"Laiyah," she starts. I haven't heard my name from her mouth in twelve years and hearing it catches me off guard. I am immediately sent back to my childhood with memories of her singing to me, or scolding me, and even tucking me in. She calls me again to get my attention, and I am pulled out of my  moment of nostalgia. "Laiyah, I know how you must be feeling about me right now and I don't blame you. I want you to understand that if you ever want to ask me anything, anything at all, I'll be here."

I laugh internally at her last words, "I'll be here." Ha! Isn't it a little late for that, I think to myself.

"You have every right to hate me, and I--"

"Stop," I interrupt her. "Please just stop. I don't want to hear anymore."

"But I just need you to understand that I—"

"That you what? That you're here now and everything is going to be alright?" I yelled. I have been trying to avoid this conversation for weeks now, but it seems like it's finally happening.

"No, it's not that, I just want you to know that I'm here for you now." She defended herself. This time I laughed aloud.

"Did you think you could just walk in here and expect us to run into your arms? Did you expect us to forget the last twelve years? Did you expect me to forget...to forget seeing you leave me? I ran after you, I called for you but you just drove away." I ranted, then added in a barely audible whisper, "You didn't even say goodbye."

I look at her, noting  the tears streaming down her face, but I don't feel sorry for her so I continue. "You didn't visit, or call. You were gone for twelve years and we didn't even know if you were dead or alive. So don't tell me you understand what it feels like to be left behind like an old pair of shoes. Don't tell me that  you know what it's like, because I just don't want to hear it."

At this point I can hear hurried footsteps coming up the stairs, and we both snap out of our not so awesome bonding session.

"I'm so sorry." She replied, as if it was the answer to all the world's questions.

"Yeah, well." Is all I managed to say before Aunt Lisa stormed into the room. She doesn't say anything but she does give me a sympathetic smile. Sorry doesn't replenish memories.

 My mother looked at me one last time before she left the room, taking all my energy with her.

Did you get everything off your chest? My conscience asks. I don't know did I?

 A/N: Thanks for reading, I appreciate all the comments. Please vote! Vote! VOTE!