Fly Away Home

Chapter 14

I understand Lizzie is not innocent in this lapse of judgment. But she's still a young girl with a malleable mind. How do I broach this conversation with her? Especially after the talk we had about her mom. And mine.

I'm not her mother, nor her parental guardian. But if she looks up to me as Russell says, I need to say and do something. And I sure don't want to mess it up like everything else in my life.

I walk more slowly back home. That final word creates a bitter taste in my mouth. Home. I chew on it and contemplate spitting it out, but I can't. Not yet. Does the universe ever stop making things so difficult?

***

I find her where I know she'll be, sitting in the same rocking chair. We're more alike than we are different, even if separated by twenty-five years. She doesn't see me, and it's surprising that she's touching up a painting of the garden. When has she been working on that?

The sight of her work creates a momentary glimpse at contentedness. I try to exhale some of my negativity. When Lizzie notices I'm watching her, she hurriedly closes her notebook. Why is everyone so intent on hiding things from me?

I run my palm over the side railing and lean against it. The reflection of my garden in the kitchen window catches my eye. It supplies me with some gentle motivation. "We should talk."

"I know." The way she speaks, it reminds me how mature she is for her age.

"What happened?" It's an open-ended question, a chance for Lizzie to approach it from whatever angle works best for her. She's silent, staring off into the distance. I realize she can't possibly read the flurry of thoughts racing through my mind, so I try something different. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know how." She grips her brush tighter, as if unwilling to let go of some intangible thing. "Whenever I asked my dad to go somewhere new, he promised we'd find the time. But we never did. He was always too busy with work. So, I stopped asking."

A deep inhalation is followed by a sigh filled with frustration. I sense her painful disappointment. "When someone else offered to do that for me? And have the chance to get tips from Jack? He's so talented... I couldn't say no." Lizzie glances over at me, and I see the guilt in her eyes. "Well, I didn't say no. I'm sorry. It was wrong."

I appreciate her honesty, but she hasn't answered the burning question inside. "But why didn't you just ask me? I would've said it was okay." I fib a little. Knowing what I do now, I'm not sure I would have been comfortable allowing it.

"I noticed something between you and Jack that day." That day. Yes, there was something, and I guess it was plain for everyone to see. "I didn't want to make you any more uncomfortable." What did she observe happening between Jack and me? While I felt a strong connection, she sensed nervous tension? "That, and I was afraid you'd say no."

Lizzie's more grown-up than I was at her age, providing the complete truth. Even when she could hide behind someone else's bad choices.

"It's not Jack's fault." Her words attempt to defend his actions. I need to put a stop to that mistruth.

"Actually, he is as much to blame as anyone. Hank, too."

"They told me to share it with you, but I never did." That bitter taste in my mouth becomes a little less sour. Still, they should have been up front with me.

"I realize we don't spend a lot of time together, but you can talk to me. You know that, right?"

She nods her head in agreement, looking down at her lap. "I just wanted to be strong and independent." She pauses for a second, glances at me, then stares out toward the garden. "Like you."

If only she could understand the truth. Life is hard and confusing. Is this what it means to be strong? To do what you know in your heart is true, even when it goes against what everyone else believes is the right thing to do?

It would be hypocritical to tell Lizzie otherwise. I would have made the exact same choice. It's also what Hank, and even Jack, has done. Nurturing a young artist who needs to prove something to herself. Even when it goes against what I believe. Or might believe.

Their choice still borders on misguided. But I can see where their hearts and intentions pointed. And that look in Jack's eyes? How he stayed locked with my emotional glare, even through the gut-wrenching turmoil of it? Even now, part of me wants to hope there is something there.

"He shared other things with me too. It's why I had that talk with you out in the garden the other day." I glance over at Lizzie as she allows a feeble smile to spread across her face. "Jack told me that as important as art might be to my life, connections with other people are even more important."

Carried through the voice of my teenage niece, his words still cause a tingling sensation. Through every part of my being. The physical, emotional, and spiritual. There's definitely something there. For me. I just don't know whether my words do the same thing for him. But I must find out, and soon.