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The Assignment

Page 88

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Snowflakes had started to fly outside, and I took a moment to let what Gregory had said sink in.

“What made you want to come see her now?” he asked. “I mean, I know you said you just wanted to see where she lived, but in a sense weren’t you coming to see her?”

There was only one answer.

“I fell in love,” I confessed.

“What’s her name?”

“Aspyn.”

He nodded with a smile.

“We’re not together anymore, though.”

“What happened?”

“I’m keeping something from her. And instead of dealing with it head on, I ran away. I can’t face her again unless I tell her. She’ll have to forgive me in order for us to be together. But who am I to think I deserve that? How can I expect her to forgive me if I couldn’t forgive my mother while she was alive? If I can’t forgive myself? I guess I came here today because I need hope…or a sign or something. I thought maybe I’d feel closer to Jennifer here, that I’d find the answers I’ve been looking for.”

“Instead, you found me, an old, washed-up artist,” he joked.

“I guess.” I laughed. “Well, your story about Jennifer helped me see that I don’t have forever to make things right in my current situation. And even if Aspyn can’t forgive me, at least I’ll know I tried. Talking about my mother definitely helped me see that it’s never too late to try, as long as I’m alive.”

He stood from his seat. “Come here. I want to show you something.”

I followed him into a bedroom. He took a framed photo off the nightstand and handed it to me. It took me all of two seconds to recognize the person in the picture.

“That’s me.”

I must have been about six or seven. My hair was shaped into that ridiculous bowl cut my grandmother used to give me, because they were all too cheap to send me to a normal hairdresser.

“She kept that photo next to her bedside. I’ve never had the heart to move it. She loved how happy you looked. It made her feel like she’d done something right in letting your father raise you. She had nothing but wonderful things to say about him. She was very grateful to him for being there for you.”

I placed it back on the nightstand, emotions twisting inside of me.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Gregory walked over to a wooden bureau and opened one of the drawers. “I want to give you something of hers.”

He reached into a jewelry box. “This was one of Jennifer’s favorite pins.”

It was silver or white gold. Upon closer look, I realized it was a dragonfly.

“She liked dragonflies?”

“I’m not sure. I just know she always wore this on her jackets, so I presume she did.”

The dragonfly’s eyes were tiny emeralds. Aspyn’s birthstone.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, rubbing my thumb over it. “Thank you.”

I spent about another hour with Gregory, listening to his stories about life with my mother. They seemed to have had a strong mutual respect for one another and made each other happy—the kind of comfortable happiness I had with Aspyn before I fucked everything up.

While I can’t say my time with Gregory magically erased twenty-nine years of pain, this was by far the most meaningful day of my life when it came to understanding my mother and what she might’ve been thinking.

Unlike my so-called grandparents on my mother’s side, Gregory was definitely someone I’d be keeping in touch with. Moreover, I walked out of that brownstone truly understanding how dangerous it is to leave things unsaid. Today left me with a lot to think about in terms of my next move when I got back to Meadowbrook.

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