Page 26 of All for her Forgiveness

"I thought you could come for a visit."

God, what world does this girl live in? People like me don't travel to Manhattan, an expensive place, just for sightseeing. I heard Aunt Riny boasting to a neighbor that her mother and niece lived like rich people, at the expense of their employers, who are bankers. "I don't know if that'll be possible. I'll be leaving New Orleans shortly."

"Leaving? Where to?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Did something happen between you and my aunt? I thought she was sick."

"Actually, she hurt her back, but I don't think it's good for either of us if I stay in her house." I'm not usually this open with strangers, but there's no reason to pretend everything's okay.

"What did my aunt do this time?"

"It's strange to hear you call her 'aunt,'" I say, dodging the subject instead of pouring all the anger I'm still feeling onto the girl. Even after walking for a long time, my blood still boils.

First because we're not rich enough to throw away an entire meal, and second because I have proof that in all these years I've lived with her, nothing has changed. Aunt Riny still treats me like trash.

I came to her house when I was very young, and to be honest, as much as it saddens me, I remember less and less about my parents, so the notion of love, kindness, and affection has slowly faded from my mind.

It got to the point where I thought I deserved to be treated this way, that I had actually done something to upset her.

Even the neighbors don’t like me, and I don’t doubt it’s because my aunt made up stories about me, like the one about stealing the crayons, for example. I grew up with a reputation as "troublesome," even though I didn't do anything to deserve that label. Slowly, I became more closed off, ignoring people and acting according to what I thought was right.

They didn't like me? Didn't want to be my friends? That's okay. I didn't need anyone but myself to be happy.

Silently swearing that living in isolation didn't hurt me was a big lie. Everything changed when Mr. Ernest moved into the house next door. I don't know why, because I didn't like most people, but the man sympathized with me.

In turn, I began to develop affection for him, too. We became friends.

In a matter of weeks of living near each other, it was as if a veil had been lifted from my eyes.

No, the world wasn't composed only of beings like Aunt Riny and her acquaintances. There were good and kind people too, even if at that moment in my life, they were represented only by Mr. Ernest.

"We didn't spend much time together," Pam says, bringing me back to the present. "She and my grandmother don't get along. But don't change the subject. What did she do to you?"

"I don't like to gossip."

"I won't tell anyone."

I sigh before starting to explain how Aunt Riny threw the food on the floor.

"Wow, what a bitch! Now I understand why my grandma doesn't want me to go there."

"Did she say that explicitly?"

"She did, yes.I was raised like a princess. Grandma is the maid of a wealthy family," she explains, though I already knew that, "and they treat me as if I were of their blood. Or at least one of them treats me that way."

"You're lucky, then. Listen, Pam, I'm really glad we talked, but I have to hang up. I don't know what you want from me, but maybe you should follow your grandmother's advice and keep your distance. I'm sure your relatives won't like a friendship between us."

"Who cares? The more we talk, the more I like you, Juliet."

"Kennedy."

"What?"

"Juliet is my middle name, and your aunt only calls me that because she knows it annoys me. Nobody calls me Juliet except her."

"And Grandma. I prefer Juliet. Can I call you that?"

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