When Andy starts a complex and steamy love affair with her new boss, she discovers there's more to his arrogant facade than she originally thought.
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Having secured her dream job at Kelex, a company she's long admired, An...
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As we parked in front of my parents' house, an overwhelming joy took over me. The saying "out of sight, out of mind" was suddenly making sense. I had been so absorbed with my life in Seattle, my new friends, my new job, Lex... that I'd been okay with not seeing my family. Even though I had often thought about them and missed them, it had been fine not seeing them overall.
Right now, though, the need to see them had grown urgent and imperious. I was very close to getting a long and warm hug from my folks, and I'd missed those greatly. Memories of my life here flooded me as I looked at the white facade and blue shutters.
The two-story house was too comfortable for my parents' teaching salaries. It was only thanks to my abuela that we had been able to move here. She'd sold the house she had bought with my Abuelo in the seventies, refusing to live alone after he'd passed. Her profit, coupled with the one my parents had gotten from selling their apartment downtown, had allowed our family to move into this peaceful neighborhood, in a house large enough so everyone had space. My father had insisted that while he was fine living with his mother-in-law, the house needed to be large enough for everybody to have their territory.
As Kate and I walked to the porch, I was reminded of the hours I'd spent playing outside in the front yard with Tyler and her. Various toys used to be scattered all over it, but those times were long gone. In the backyard, there was a small pool where we used to spend our summers in, living off barbecues and lemonades.
We reached the front door, and I knocked on it, using the dragon door knocker my dad had installed against my mom's wish, years ago. It always felt strange to be a guest in what felt like my own house. Some activity happened inside, and soon enough, the door opened wide, revealing my mom's familiar frame.
Isabella Walker, born Hernández, wasn't exactly a coquettish woman, but she took care of herself, trying not to let the time passing become too obvious. She was slightly plump, despite watching what she ate and race-walking with her friends three times a week. She dyed her hair to hide the growing number of white strands in it, and sometimes, like now, when her roots were too visible but she didn't have time to take care of it, she wore a headband to maintain the illusion.
Maybe it was because she was my mother, the ultimate figure of comfort and love, but she'd always seemed to be a warm, compassionate, and sensitive woman. As anti-feministic as it may sound, Isabella Walker was put on this earth to take care of kids. That was why she was so good at teaching, and it explained why at the end of every year, her students pitched in to offer her a thanking gift. It had become a tradition about ten years ago, and ever since, the graduates from the high school she worked at gifted her with a new decorative peacock for her collection.
Yes, she was an extraordinary woman, and although she could be strict and firm, I couldn't possibly have asked for a better mother. I suddenly felt like a terrible daughter, for not coming back sooner.
Being the forgiving person she was, she gave me a warm, joyful smile when her eyes met mine. When she turned to Kate, her expression turned reassuring and motherly. She opened her arms, inviting us both in for a hug, and we gladly complied.
