I am back with Part 2 of my story 'The end of summer'

Let’s see what happened next with Ala.

I dropped the glass back in the sink and ran through the corridors, trying to wipe my hands dry on my summer shorts. They were late, but finally here. As soon as I got outside, I saw my brothers skidding their bicycles next to the car. They just let them drop in the dust and ran to my mother who was already out of the car.

She was the same: pretty as a picture, with a summer hat and a ribbon, as I’d imagined her. She was wearing a flowery dress with straps and she looked thrilled to be back. She hugged both my brothers, one in each arm, and started to cover their faces with kisses.

‘Oh, my boys, I missed you so much. Let me kiss you.’

And they let her. I was standing there, waiting for my turn, my breath caught in my throat.

‘You’re here, Missis and Sir. How was your holiday?’ Lina asked.

My mother waved her hand in a quick acknowledgement and finally saw me. I moved myself, ready to run into her arms, but her eyes lost their sparkle. She smiled a frozen smile, and her dreamy eyes looked right through me.

‘Hey, Ala. Have you been good?’

She was still holding my brothers close to her bosom. Her golden chain was dangling over my younger brother’s head. My arms fell and Lina came closer, putting an arm over my shoulders. Was it to support me or to protect me from making a fool of myself? But I was too stubborn for my own good. I shook her arm off and stepped determinedly towards my mother.

‘Now, now, enough hugging and kissing. We have a car to unpack, and we have presents.’

And she turned away.

‘Yes, yes!’ My brothers were clapping.

I was vaguely aware of the children watching us and Lina’s hand squeezing my shoulder. That was what stopped me turning around and running to my room. I swallowed away the tears. If she won’t hug me, at least she won’t see me crying.

Then I saw my father. He was standing near the car, talking to a man through the window. In the back of the car, a Panama hat like you saw in old photos, half covered a long face. Strands of milky white hair and wide sideburns as white as the hair. His chin rested on both hands, supported by a walking stick. He just sat there motionless with his eyes fixated on me. I blinked away the tears.

My mother went to open the car door and held her arm to help the old man out. My father let himself be hugged by the boys then came to me and hugged me quickly and kissed me on the head. I smiled, delighted.

The old man fumbled for a while with his walking stick. When he straightened his back, I had a glimpse of my father in a much older version. Tall, wide shouldered and a grand manner about the way he carried his body. The old man left my mother standing there without giving her a single look or accepting her offer of help. I could see out of the corner of my eye a twitch on my mother’s face; her lips tightened and mine lifted in a cautious smile.

The old man’s eyes kept staring at me and I stood there with a sudden feeling of apprehension. He ignored my brothers and shuffled towards me. I felt a pain in my neck trying to look up at him. A crooked smile and his voice instantly wrapped around me with kindness.

‘Hello, Ala. I have heard a lot about you.’

His big hand with blotched skin stretched to me and I dared to move mine. He touched my hand with his dried lips, and I felt overwhelmed by his chevalier gesture.

My mother came next to him and, before I knew it, she grabbed me by the ear and lifted me.

‘Open your mouth, Ala. Introduce yourself and welcome our guest. This is Uncle Albert.’

The old man placed his hand on my mother’s.

‘Marcela, this is totally unnecessary.’ At the sound of his hoarse whisper my mother let me go.

I could already feel the smack that I would receive after the guest’s departure. My ear was burning, and my face felt hot from shame. My father was calling my mother to the car. I sighed when she was gone, and the old man rested his hand on my shoulder.

‘I would like Ala to take me inside.’ He guided me through the door. He seemed to know the place because he went straight to the parlour.

The next hours passed as in a dream. All of us sat in the dusty living room which was lit up by the late afternoon sun when my mother drew the curtains. Lina was sent out to cut a chicken and prepare the dinner. Uncle Albert was on the sofa and us children were around him where my mother had put us, like in a display. She kept talking about my brothers, how strong and healthy they are, and then apologising for the dust all over the place, then telling us how nice the sand was and how warm the sea was and how many foreigners were holidaying at the Black Sea this summer. Then she told us excitedly about their stop at the old family house to pick up Uncle Albert. He had shown his interest in coming to see the children.

Uncle Albert asked me to bring him a glass of water, and my mother shouted after me not to break something and apologised to him for me being so clumsy. Then, after the suitcases were taken to my parents’ rooms and only one big duffle bag was left next to the table, we knew that the moment had arrived. All kind of presents started to come out, like from a Mary Poppins bag: water guns and games for my brothers, a seashell necklace for Lina, handmade tea towels, foreign liquors and cigarettes, a small Turkish coffee pot … and then my present.

‘This is for you, Ala.’

I jumped up happily and started to peel the paper from my gift. Emotion surged over me. I reached the plastic photo frame, the size of a copy book, and at first I thought there must be something else underneath. I kept searching in the torn paper and in the back of the frame. I think my face was showing a lot more than I wanted to.

‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ my mother chirped.

I smiled back at her, a wide forced smile, and I lifted my eyebrows in mock surprise.

‘Yes, it is. So beautiful. Thank you for the present, mother. This is exactly what I wanted.’

‘See, I know you very well.’

Despite my defiance and our polite exchange, she was the one laughing last. Tonight, I was going to bed with a cheap meaningless photo frame in a dirty white with some golden lines. I sat back on the sofa staring at the frame on my lap. How could I imagine even for one second that something — anything — would change?

Lina finished the dinner and father asked her to set the table for the children in the kitchen and for the adults in the parlour. He was trying to send us out of the room to settle the air. I was aware that the old man next to me was keeping me from a belt smacking.

Lina took care of our dinner, showered us, then sent us to say goodnight to our parents and Uncle Albert before she went home.

‘But surely either of her brothers is more suited …’

‘No.’ His voice cut short my mother’s words.

‘Uncle Albert …’ My father stopped when he saw us standing in the door.

After we said our goodnights, we went to the children’s room. We were exhausted after the excitement of the day, and we fell asleep as soon as we put our heads down. Later in the night, a sudden noise woke me up. Half asleep, I pushed the blanket away and guided by the moon rays on the carpet, found my way out of the room. In the corridor I could see the light coming from the living room.

❤❤︎❤︎

Thank you for reading. See you next time for Part 3.