Her eyes then darted to the freezer, which was usually adorned with magnets, from all the different places they’d lived, like Virginia, Texas, Arizona, and of course California. The freezer door was completely empty and void of any of their travels. Everything on kitchen countertops was also packed away. It was like every trace of her mother was slowly slipping away.
She ran her finger along the countertop, noticing that Cheryl had scrubbed them all down. They were spotless.
Everything seemed so sterile, which was nothing like the way it would be if her mother were still alive. Chastity leaned against the counter in awe. She knew if her mom could see this, it would make her sad. No matter where they lived, this was her mother’s favorite spot.
The kitchen is the heart of the home little Chaz, is what her mom always told her. It's where we come for home cooking, heart-to-heart conversation, and making sweet memories. Memories for just you and me.
From all the moving they’d done, her mother never lost her southern hospitality. Chastity sat down to let her own memories of mom in the kitchen roll over her … the times they’d cooked together … the times Chastity almost caught the kitchen on fire … and of course her mom’s famous pies and cookies.
It was their bonding time and something she’d always miss. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do now without her mom and their time in the kitchen together. If she sat long enough, she could almost smell her mom’s home made chocolate chip cookies.
Chastity opened her teary eyes, and whispered, “I miss you.”
She made mental note to keep all of her mom’s recipes, especially the one for her famous chocolate chip cookies. When she turned to grab the recipe files, a note lay on top of it from Cheryl, which read:
Chaz, I didn’t have the heart to wake you. I ran in to town for some more cleaning supplies and paper plates. I made you a PB&J sandwich.... it’s on the top shelf in the fridge. I’ll see you this evening.
Good, I don’t have the energy for conversation right now anyway.
From the corner of her eye, she saw some garage sale boxes and reminded herself to keep Grama Wayne’s china and crystal. After all, they were her family heirlooms, and someday she’d have a family of her own.
She reached for the refrigerator door, and pulled out her sandwich along with the chocolate milk container.
“Chocolate anything is a must,” she said to no one in particular. The sound of her voice echoed throughout the kitchen.
It’s so empty in here … my mom will never step foot in here again.
Just before Chastity started tearing up for the second time, a warm sensation eased through her whole body. It gave her a sense of security like her mother’s hugs used to make her feel.
It dawned on her that even though her mom may not be around physically; she was there in every other sense, with her in that kitchen. In that moment, she realized that this place felt like home. She’d never had any roots before, but this had been the closest thing to it.
Kylie finally decided to settle down about five years ago, which was during Chastity’s first semester at UCLA. She found a condo, which was close enough to her daughter, yet far enough away that she wouldn’t interfere with her life.
She immediately fell in love with the atmosphere and the ‘move in quick’ special offered to her, grateful to put down some roots and provide someplace safe for the two of them.
Chastity never knew what spurred her mother’s decision to settle, but she was glad to finally see some peace in her eyes. And, since she’d never had to luxury to call anywhere home, it provided somewhere comforting for her to return during summer break and on holidays. Coming back to the same house during weekends or on breaks took some getting used to, but she became content with the familiarity.
Her favorite luxury of her mother’s new place was the crisp air that would drift through the windows, which were left open through out the day. The sheer curtains gently, making a relaxing swish noise, prompting many an afternoon nap.
The sound of the traffic, from the nearby 280 gave her a sense of serenity. If she closed her eyes and stood by her bedroom window, she could imagine that the traffic roar was actually the ocean waves rolling in and crashing up onto the beach. Of all the places she lived, this was in her top two.
Growing up, whenever she’d arrive at a new school, Chastity was barraged with questions about where she was from. When she gave her standard reply ‘everywhere’, kids would always assume her dad was in the military. They then asked if her dad was Army.
She would have given anything to be able to answer yes to that question. It hurt not being able to answer on the behalf of her dad.
She didn’t know what or who he was, but she’d gotten pretty good at responding with, ‘No, my mom’s a self-starter. So we move a lot.’
The answer was ambiguous enough that it satisfied even the most curious. The truth was her mom worked in the restaurant business, and was in charge of starting up new locations. Chastity never got into the specifics or her mom’s job, because it didn’t matter much what the other kids thought. She’d just be gone in a couple more years anyway.
Chastity took her food to her room, and drank the milk carton dry. Earlier, she had put her mother’s journals and yearbook under her mattress. She didn’t want to let Cheryl know about her discovery just yet, as she would just lecture her on her curiosity, paralleling it to Pandora’s box. That was her favorite story to bestow on Chastity.
She set her paper plate on her bed, and picked up her sketchpad and pencils. Her art helped her figure out what was going on in her own head with out anyone else trying to tell her what to think or feel.
That’s what goes along with being a young adult. You’re old enough to live on your own, but you’re still subject to a lot of advice, well intended as it may be.
To unwind, she found it therapeutic to draw. Some kept journals, like she’d discovered about her mom, but Chastity drew … especially when she couldn’t figure something out. It gave her insight to pick up her pencils to put them to paper.
In grade school, her teachers scolded her for doodling in class. Chastity was disciplined and lectured on a daily basis. It wasn’t until her art teacher discovered her talent, and praised her abilities that she actually started taking it seriously.
In those days, her favorite pastimes were portraits. It started with making funny drawings of her teachers or classmates, but it turned in to a passion.
After cultivating her early talents, she grew into painting. She enjoyed working with oils and acrylics, but pen and ink drawings were her first love.
Her pad lay open and she focused in on the sketch of the same man, that she’d drawn repeatedly since she was a kid. In her mind, she had visualized him with thick wavy hair, large eyes, and a welcoming smile. Chastity stared at the face, that she imagined to be her dad and compared it to the newspaper photos.
I can’t believe how close the resemblance is between my drawings and these pictures in the paper!
Amazed at the coincidence, she turned to look at herself in the mirror. She wanted to see her own liking to the man; she thought might be her father.
The photos in the paper were in black in white, but she’d bet her life that John Mikale had the same green eye color as her own.
The Wayne side of her family had brown eyes. Since her mom would never elaborate on her genetics, Chastity had always assumed her eyes were from her father.
Chastity’s face had a serious look to it, which she knew came from the Wayne’s, as Kylie had the same sullen look. Her mom would always push her by saying, ‘you ready for the day? The only thing you’re missing is a smile!’
Chastity shook her head at the memory. She was often told she looked too serious. She felt people were comparing it to being disagreeable, which she wasn’t. She just didn’t have a bubbly persona, like most girls.
She always responded with, ‘Maybe I don’t feel like smiling.’
Currently, she liked to think her se
rious look benefited her in the world of the arts. To her, looking serious meant she had serious talent. Chastity full lips were often compared to a pout. Upon inspection, she realized that she had the same long oval face that John Mikale had.
She was blessed with thick, long, brown hair that was shoulder length, tapering around her face. The soft layers accentuated her bright green eyes, which were known stop traffic, according to her best friend, Anne. She felt her they were her best attribute; they were the one thing that drew most compliments.
Most men couldn’t help but stare at her, with her striking dark complexion and hair that offset her emerald eyes. Finding a man wasn’t high on her priority list at the moment though, which would suit her mother just fine.
If she closed her eyes, she could hear her mom now.
Be wary if a boy is too nice. Usually if he’s too good to be true ... there is a reason for it.
Kylie’s anxiety really kicked in, once Chastity was old enough to date. Chastity was relentless, and finally talked her mom into allowing her date at the age of sixteen, instead of the original rule of eighteen. Kylie really didn’t have a choice of enforcing that rule anyway. Her daughter did what she wanted to do whether Kylie liked it or not.
Chastity stared at her reflection in the mirror, in remembrance of her mother’s thorough checklist. She not only gave her the third degree, but made it a point to know everything thing about her date’s parents.
As it was almost impossible to give her mother the reassurance she needed, Chastity finally stopped trying. She eventually came to the realization that her mom was never going to be the kind, who would be laid back about anything.
Her gaze dropped back to her mother’s bed. She slipped one of the notebooks out from underneath the mattress, and peeked inside. She read about her mother’s life in junior high, as it detailed the life of a typical schoolgirl.
The entries told of a young Kylie, who was struggling to find where she fit into the social scene. It went into great depth about her hopes to get asked to junior high dances. According to her, the first rule of being popular was getting asked to dance by a cute boy.
Chastity read multiple stories that reflected her mother and Cheryl’s trials and triumphs on the social ladder. It seemed the two of them were always together, even then.
They weren’t the most popular girls, but they weren't the outcasts either, Chastity thought, turning the page.
The most impressive entry was from an eighth grade autumn dance. Chastity read about her mother’s first dance with a seventh grade boy, named David.
Her mother commented in the journal entry that he had sweaty palms. Although it was embarrassing being asked by a younger boy, at least she was invited at all. When she was dancing with David, she was really watching John from across the gym.
Chastity smiled. You liked him - even back then, mom.
Her mother wrote that ‘Love Hurts’ played, which fit the moment. She made herself feel better by imagining that she was dancing with John, instead of sweaty David.
Chastity smiled at the next line in the journal, in which Kylie wrote: ‘I wore my new dress to see if he’d notice me. It’s red and black striped, with a V down the back, but he was with Jenny Brown, the cheerleader. One day, I know he’ll see me and ask me out.’
As Chastity continued to read, she learned that Cheryl and her mom would wait in areas they knew John would be at, like the hallways or the football field. They did it all in hopes to find an excuse to talk to him, or at the very least say hi.
Mom, they have laws for that now a days. It’s called stalking! She chuckled. It’s nice to know that you were excited about something, though.
Chapter 6
“I am never getting up that early again,” Chastity grumbled, at the end of the afternoon.
Cheryl laughed at her young friend, as she finished taping up the last donation box, with items, which hadn’t sold at the garage sale.
“At least you’ve being paid for your time. How about a movie tonight?”
“Sounds good. I am ready to sit on my butt and do nothing for a while.” Chastity wiped her brow.
All in all they’d had a good turnout. There were people coming by before 6:30 in the morning, and it was a pretty steady crowd all day.
Last night they organized the items to sell … so this morning all they had to do was roll out of bed, throw some clothes on, and bring everything to the yard. By 3 p.m. the crowd thinned enough that girls called it a day and started counting their earnings.
“Four hundred and fifty, four hundred and sixty, four hundred and seventy dollars. Wow! You made a killing! That should be enough to put in your someday fund.” Cheryl stacked the money and pushed it toward Chastity, who shook her head.
“My someday fund is doing okay on it’s own ... you should take some of this money we made.”
“I don’t want for anything Chastity. Besides, this is your money. Just keep it.”
Cheryl stood and pushed the donation boxes toward the front of the yard.
“At least take half.” Chastity followed her, money in hand.
“Not a chance.” Cheryl quickly changed the subject. “How much do you have in your someday account now anyway?”
Chastity shoved it back into her pocket, and followed Cheryl back into the house.
“Almost six thousand dollars ... enough that four hundred and seventy dollars won’t make too big of a difference.” As she left to go up to her room, she sent Cheryl a lopsided grin, saying, “Don’t think you’re getting out of this without a little something too. You’ve worked hard this week.”
It didn’t matter what Cheryl insisted on. She planned on putting half of it into her purse before seeing her off. It was the least she could do for her. She had done so much to help her. Cheryl had been not only her mother’s rock, but her own support system as well. The money was the only way she knew how to pay her back.
Chastity’s heart warmed at Cheryl’s mention of her someday fund. She smiled at the memory of her mother’s promise. She always said, ‘Someday, all I have is yours!’
After a few years, it became a private joke between the two of them. They both knew that they weren’t by any stretch of the means well off, so it would be a miracle if Chastity ended up with much.
In high school, she wanted to make the idea of having something someday real. She knew that her dreams would have to turn into ambitions, and the only way someday was going to happen for her if it was of her own accord.
Her goal was to travel to Italy to paint where all the great artists had been. Her favorites were Rubens, DaVinci, and Vincent Van Gogh. She felt a bond with Van Gogh and DaVinci because like her, they liked to draw in pencil or pen before expanding to the other mediums.
Someday she knew she’d get to opportunity to study their work in person and gain inspiration to create some of her own. She would just have to save enough money first.
Chastity majored in art history, taking as many classes she could to give her the knowledge and preparation to go abroad. Now it just boiled down to having her finances in order.
Her someday fund had grown slowly in result of her high school jobs, checks from Grama Wayne, and cash from whatever her mom could save from the various jobs she’d held at restaurants throughout their moves.
Chastity had accumulated a couple thousand dollars by the time she was a senior in college. Now that she’d graduated, her earnings from her job at the children’s art center, and her occasional sales of her artwork had over doubled her fund.
She promoted her work through local cafes, like her friend Anne’s, and locally owned restaurants and pubs in the Silverlake Community and downtown LA. She hoped that it would be enough to get her noticed by a few galleries, so she could get her foot in the door and make enough to finally take her someday trip to Venice. However, since her mother took ill, Chastity hadn’t paid as much attention to her trip.
That’s the luxury of someday. It’s exactly what it is –someday, she
wistfully thought, taking the cash from her pocket and placing it in her wallet. She knew she’d still have enough for Venice when it was time. She sighed and looked across her room to the journals.
For now, it’s time to find out mom’s story.
She needed to uncover Kylie’s past to learn about her own.
Mom’s journals just might give me what I needed to figure it all out.
Chastity stashed her wallet into her bag, and grabbed the notebooks. They weren’t leaving for the movies until 7 p.m., which left her enough time to get ready and read a few more pages.
She plopped onto the bed, to find where she left off.
I can skip through her junior high and most of her high school entries, she thought as she thumbed through the book.
She wanted to cut to the chase, and find out if John really was her father.
She got pregnant at the tail end of her senior year, so who knows? Maybe it was someone else, and she just carried a torch for John Mikale? But why else would she have kept those newspaper clippings all these years? He has to be the one!
Chastity had seen his face in her dreams as a kid, and knew in the pit of her stomach she was connected to him.
Okay mom … spill it. What happened?
She flipped through and came to a journal entry she found dated: May 24th, 1980. It detailed her mother’s account of the first time John asked her out. She said she was amazed that John finally saw her.
It was a long time coming. Huh, mom?
From the previous entries, Chastity understood that her mother was a late bloomer and wasn’t very confident.
I guess she finally came into her own ... she became the swan. Although - I doubt she was ever an ugly duckling.
She paused, and looked to her mom’s photo by her bed.
So is this the night that it all starts? Mom and John?
Chastity couldn’t wait to turn the page to see what happened next. She wanted to read all the details about her mother’s emotional high on the day after her first date.
If it were me, I would have written about it as soon as I got home.
Finding Kylie Page 3
