Alone (20 page)

“
You do?”

“
Of course I do Willow. You are my daughter.”

“
How come you have never told me?”

“
I don’t know Willow. I have been thinking about this since Thanksgiving to be honest with you. I’ve even been going to a psychologist. I hate that I’m like this,” she was crying hysterically now. I didn’t even know how to comfort her. I didn’t feel like I could do anything for her. “I don’t want to be angry, I’ve just been this way for so long.”

“
But you weren’t always like this,” I said thinking of her time with Mrs. Schneider.

“
No, I wasn’t.”

“
Mom, do you remember Mrs. Schneider?”

“
The lady who played the organ at the church?”

“
Mom…”

“
So she told you then?”

I told her about how Mrs. Schneider passed away and had left me the letter. She told me more about their time together and how Mrs. Schneider had helped her just as much as she helped Mrs. Schneider. She told me how she would go to the church to talk with her but never about me. She said that Mrs. Schneider would never betray my trust and would never tell her about anything I talked about during my visits to the church.

I stayed there with my mom for over two hours, having the first real conversation we’d ever had. I did see a different side of her today and it gave me a small bit of hope that something good could happen with us. I wasn’t ready to try it out though. I needed to know that she was for real in wanting to change and that was going to take a lot of time.

As I was about to leave, she pulled me into a hug and said, “I am so sorry Willow. I promise I will do whatever I have to do to make things right with us.”

“
Okay mom. Just don’t get discouraged if I don’t call for awhile, okay?”

“
I won’t. I need to make things right with me too. I love you.”

“
I love you too mom.”

I cried tears of joy as I left Rochester. I hoped that she was honestly going to work to make herself better. There was nothing I wanted more than to be able to love her because she was a great mom. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life not knowing the side of her that Mrs. Schneider knew. Deep down, there was no way I could forgive myself if my mom left this earth without things being right between us. I may have gone to my mother's house with the intentions of severing all ties with her, but I was glad it didn't end up that way.

EPILOGUE

I hadn't been back to New Jollie in almost a year and returning now, felt a little like going back in time. I managed to keep in contact with Miss Morgan and Aaron while settling my life in Portland. In some ways I missed my hometown, but I've never regretted leaving.

Staying in Jace’s house turned out to be a very good thing. The cellar was already set up as an art studio when I had arrived. Apparently Jace tried his hand at painting for awhile and still did some painting to relax. He had only been to the house a total of five days in the last year. Every time he would stay with me, the feelings for him were so intense, but I could never say anything about it. Besides, there was no indication that he felt anything more than friendship toward me, and I didn't want to lose what we already had.

I had a spot in two galleries in Portland but the most exciting part about my life now was going to college. I was taking classes full time at the University of Portland working towards a degree in Social Work. Going to college allowed me to challenge myself outside of the art world.

I also decided to start seeing a psychologist. There was still so much I had to work through. I did relapse and cut one time after being denied by two galleries. The old familiar feelings washed over me, and it was too strong to resist. The next morning, instead of allowing the guilt to fill my head, I decided I really needed to talk to someone about this problem. I was making progress and the urge to cut had subsided substantially since I had first arrived to Portland. I didn’t think it would ever go away, but it was much easier to resist.

My mother and I talked about once a month and she was getting better. She was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and she was on medication to help with the depression. I did a lot of research on the disorder and learned that it can undermine relationships with people you would normally be close to. Although it wasn’t a free pass for what she had put me through, it answered a lot of my questions. We were becoming closer and I had to learn to open myself up to her, which my psychologist helped with. After so long apart, my mom and I decided that it was time to see each other again and spend some time together, so she was coming back to Portland with me for a week. I was actually excited for this to happen, but also very cautious that it may not turn out the way we hoped.

When I went to the art gallery in New Jollie, I first saw Aaron at the information desk. As soon as he saw me he ran from behind the desk and hugged me tight as he said hello. He told me Miss Morgan was out for most of the day but I could see her in the evening. We caught up on the things that had happened since our last talk over the phone just a week ago. He and Mike still hadn’t come to Portland but they were making plans to do so this summer. Apparently, Serenity, the girl Miss Morgan accepted to the gallery before I had left New Jollie, was making quite a name for herself. Aaron said that she was the “new Willow of the gallery.”

“
Oh! You know that old building where your painting is?” Aaron asked suddenly.

“
Yeah. What about it?”

“
Someone bought it a few months back.”

“
For what? That place is a complete wreck inside!”

“
I don't know what they're turning it into. I've heard a lot of demolition going on inside. There was a dumpster outside with some pieces of walls and broken doors in it.”

“
Anything with trees on it?” I asked nervously.

Aaron ignored my question. “The owner has been staying there during the day when the construction crew works. He's probably there if you want to go ask.”

Before he could even finish the sentence, I was running out the door. I wasn't sure why. I knew I shouldn't care, but I did. I couldn't remember if I had even taken a picture of
City Woods
, now it was probably torn down. And all those notes from the people who stumbled across it, gone forever.

There was construction workers outside that I ran right past and through the open doors. I wasn't looking for the owner. I had only one destination in mind, third floor, room twenty-seven. I could smell the saw dust and I heard the men yelling I couldn't be in there, but I didn't care. The door to room twenty-seven was closed so I took a deep breath preparing me for what I was about to see. I opened the door and turned to where my painting should have been. Instead, there was a plain white cloth and plastic sheeting over the wall. In big fluorescent orange letters was the word SAVE. I turned to the wall where the notes were and it too was covered. Although I knew what was there, I still had to peak underneath to be sure they were really saving my memories. When I saw
City Woods
, the emotions I was feeling were overwhelming and I started to cry.

I was startled by a man's voice. “Yes, she's here. Great job Aaron.”

“
Jace!” I just about leaped into his arms. We embraced for a long time when he broke the silence.

“
It's so good to see you Willow.”

“
What's going on here?”

“
I do believe I told you I wanted to buy the building just so I could own your painting,” he answered with a sly grin on his face.

“
I do remember that. I didn't actually think you were going to do it!”

“
I just couldn't imagine someone else taking this building or even tearing it down with
City Woods
inside.”

“
So what do you have planned for this building?”

“
An art gallery.”

“
New Jollie already has an art gallery,” I responded irritated.

“
Well I don't know then. Maybe an office building for lawyers and accountants.” I could see the edges of his mouth pulling up trying to hide a smile and I knew he was teasing me.

“
Jace! Stop teasing. I'm really curious.”

“
C'mon. I'll show you the plans.” He took my hand in his and led me to the first floor to his office. I sat comfortably on the second hand couch he brought in for temporary furnishings during construction. When he let go of my hand, I felt abandoned, neglected. It was so strange how Jace affected me. When he sat next to me, he unrolled a large piece of paper across our laps. I scanned the blueprint for a defining title to the building, but there was nothing to tell me what it was.

“
I don't understand,” I confessed.

“
Willow, I have not been able to forget your painting since the day you brought me here. I guess it was about three years ago that I was thinking about what I was giving back to the world. I came from the poorest of the poor, and I am on top now. I realized I needed to do more than just hand out donations each year. Anyone can right a check, I wanted to really make a difference.”

“
You made a difference in my life,” I reminded him gently.

“
Willow, it was only a matter of time before you were really discovered like that. I feel lucky to be the one who had a hand in it. Besides you changed my life much more than I changed yours. What you are looking at,” he said looking at the blueprints again, “Is a state of the art homeless shelter for New Jollie.”

“
What?” was all I was able to respond with.

“
That's right. Computer room, counseling center, education, of course a place to cook, eat and sleep.” He was pointing to different rooms on the map of the building as he spoke. “And this, room twenty-seven on the third floor is 'Willow's World'. A room for reflection, relaxation, to take a break from reality. It will be dimly lit with couches and overstuffed chairs and cozy blankets, and throw pillows. All decorated in colors from
City Woods
. There will be sharpie markers for everyone to leave a mark if they feel the need.”

I just stared at him, unable to speak. It was all so perfect. I couldn't believe the miracle that was being created.

“
So, what do you think?”

“
It's amazing Jace. Only you could pull something like this off.”

“
It's not going to be easy, so I'm taking some time off from the art world so I can put all my effort and concentration into this. It's so important to me that it's done right. I've gone to some shelters around the country, for charity work and research over the last year and it's never a pretty sight. Cots and mostly bare walls. It seemed impossible to me that anyone could get a leg up in that type of environment. It has to feel impossible to have any type of self-worth while staying in a place like that. If you don't feel good about yourself, how are you supposed to get ahead? I want people who come here to succeed. It will be a celebration when they leave because they won't ever have to walk through the doors of another shelter ever again.” He smiled looking at the paper knowing his vision was going to be a reality.

He took my hand and again and I grasped it tightly. I didn't ever want to let it go. He turned to me and I could see his confusion to my reaction. To make him understand, I move closer and put my hand gently on his face. I leaned forward, and without any hesitation, I kissed him in a way that showed him that I never wanted to leave his arms again.

About the Author

Tiffany Lovering is a life-long upstate New York resident and spends most of her time devoted to her daughter, Allison’s activities. In between going to soccer practice, recitals, and spending way too much time on Facebook and YouTube, she writes young adult and paranormal romance novels.

Alone was a true labor of love over a six year period. Although not autobiographical, it is still a very personal story that was too difficult to work on at times.

Tiffany has been writing short stories since the third grade and started writing full-length novels by the time she was sixteen. She only recently decided to self-publish any of her writings.

More from Tiffany Lovering

The Tamporlea Trilogy

Tamporlea

Unjust

Reunification

Short Story

Unbreakable

Connect with the Author:

Twitter:
www.twitter.com/t
iffanylovering

Email:
[email protected]

Blog: .
http://tiffanysuelovering.blogspot.com

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