Chapter 8 Kiaria

(Present Day)

Later tonight when the Harvest Moon starts to rise will be my 18th birthday. Currently I am a freshman at a university here in Montana near home, although I had wanted to enroll elsewhere. My mother didn't allow me to go to school outside the state saying she preferred family close by. As always, she would say it was the Filipino in her. I tried to argue the fact that she actually left her family in California, but she went technical and justified her decision to keep me home by asserting the fact that she lived at home when she was in college. Then, she threw in "technology" into the debate and pointed out I have a grandmother who is on standby through video call 24/7. So, now when my mother asks me where my grandmother is, I tell her she's in my pocket which usually earns me a dirty look from her. It's true anyway. My smartphone is always in my pocket.

It was chaos in our house. My mother was going to throw a Harvest Moon Thanksgiving party for my dad tonight. Actually she wanted to throw me a debutante ball, but I'm not that kind of girl that likes waltzes, heels and gowns. Lace can get itchy and corsettes can be suffocating, so I never want to get near those things until it is absolutely necessary. Prom was bad enough. I have pictures as proof. Ew.

"Kiaria, sweetheart, if you're done with your homework can you please come downstairs and help with the party? The guests will be arriving soon and the house needs a bit of tidying up." My mother rarely needs help. She just probably wanted to ask my opinion on something.

"Sure Mom, I'll be downstairs in a minute!" I stood up from my desk and stretched. I'll just finish my schoolwork later when all the adults are busy with dinner. I'll just slip on my headphones and I won't have to hear a thing. I look in the mirror to straighten my clothes. There were some people on the property hired by my mom to help with the landscaping. I had to make sure I was decent. My white blouse had some wrinkles, but who cares. I'm at home.

My mother is Asian, Japanese-Filipino if you want to be accurate and my father is British Caucasian with dark hair and blue eyes. Yeah, I always get the, "You don't look like your parents" comment from people I meet. At first, my mother would try and explain, then when I got older, I would try and explain, yet, the comments never stopped and I just got sick of it. So now, I always answer back, most especially if they call themselves fur parents, with a sarcastic "You don't look like your dog and your dog is exceptionally cute." I get dirty looks from both my parents and the fur parents, but hey, I'm just speaking the truth.

I'm a bit tall, about five feet and eight inches so I tower above my mother who is a cute five foot two. I have long golden blonde hair, amber colored eyes and golden tanned skin. My grandmother calls me a child of the sun in the Filipino language while my mother says if I wear gold lipstick, gold eye make up and gold clothes, I could pass as a gold statue. Last Halloween, I took my mother's suggestion and paraded as an Oscar statuette. It was a hot and heavy costume, but I won first prize in the Halloween Costume contest sponsored by Whitefish town officials. Even my dad was impressed.

I looked around to find my mother. The dining table was all set up for my father's dinner later, our living room was neat and cozy with fresh flowers in the vases, while our kitchen looked like a food truck with fresh produce in boxes and grocery bags on the floor.

I went through the sliding back doors and walked outside to find my mother. The pergola was all set. Three long sofas spanned the length of the covered patio forming a U shape with the amazing view of the mountains. The huge coffee table was adorned with a vase of red roses in the center. If the guests become cold, my father just needs to turn on the fireplace at the side or if they get bored, the television on top of the fireplace and all is solved.

Where is my mother? She isn't here in the backyard or in the house.

"Listen for the sound of her voice," the voice in my head says. Yup, I have a voice in my head that speaks to me. I'm a freak!

I was going to tell my mom about the voice, but this voice I sometimes hear, usually points me into the right direction or gives me a warning of something bad that was going to happen. I kind of looked at her like my personal guardian angel. An angel who has become a bit bossy these past few months.

I stood at the center of the pergola and concentrated so I could block out the other sounds and listen for her voice. She was up front talking to a man. I went back inside the house to the front door of our house. When I opened it, I found her talking to our neighbors, a married gay couple who I completely loved.

"Kiaria, Happy Birthday, my beautiful, sun-kissed babe." Drew gave me a hug. "I wish you good luck on finding a boyfriend." My mother slaps him on the arm.

"No boyfriends or girlfriends. Kiaria still has to finish college. Love can wait."

"Mommy Sakura, she needs inspiration. College can get pretty boring." Easton puts his arm around me.

"Don't give her any ideas. No boyfriends or girlfriends until she's 30!"

"Mom, seriously? I can't date 'til I'm 30?"

"Fine, 21. So, who wants to help me fix the kitchen?" My mom looks at Drew and Easton who instinctively take their leave.

"Sorry, Mommy Sakura, we need to uhm, do some grocery shopping. We'll help you next time." Drew started heading for the sidewalk.

"Happy Birthday, Kiaria. Mommy, can I ask for some of your lumpia?" Easton asked politely.

"Sure, I'll have Kiaria bring over some food for the both of you freeloaders!" My mom smiles and Easton plants a kiss on her cheek.

"That is the truth and I won't contradict it. Thanks Mommy Sakura. If you can add some dessert, I will continously worship the ground you walk on. Bye girls!" Easton waves at me and I wave back, happy to see them, sad to see them go.

"You Kiaria, follow me. Help me stack the pantry."

I follow my mom into the house to the kitchen. She had me stack everything in the grocery bags in our pantry. The fresh produce was going to my mother's bistro who was in charge of catering the food for my father's dinner.

I heard a familiar honk of a truck outside our house. I picked up one of the boxes of produce and walked outside.

"Hey Stan! There's 5 more of these inside. I'll get them for you." I smile at my mother's truck driver slash delivery guy.

"The birthday girl is the one carrying the boxes? You should be sitting around getting your nails done." Stan takes the box from my hands and winks at me.

"Not this one. I'm negotiating for a new car." I wink back. "Hold on, I'll get the other boxes." I open the door and my mother brings out another box. "I'll get the boxes, Mom." I leave the door open and one by one, I take all the heavy boxes of produce outside. Stan takes them and places all the boxes inside through the side opening of the truck.

"Didn't even break a sweat! Thanks kiddo! I'll see you at the bistro over the weekend." Stan waves his hands at me and gets in the truck.

"Quick, Kiaria! Your mother is about to be runned over by the truck!" The voice in my head suddenly warns me.

It felt as if time had slow down. I ran towards the back of the truck and grab my mother and pull her away before Stan had time to back out of the driveway.

The truck screeched to a halt. Stan came out running from the truck to check on us.

"Are you both alright? I'm so sorry, Mrs. Wright, I didn't see you. God bless you, Kiaria. You're like Spiderman." My mom smiles at me and gives me a hug.

"My fault, Stan. I was busy looking at my roses." My mom laughs nervously. "Get going, Stan. The chefs need all of the produce for the dinner later tonight. Drive carefully."

"Sorry again, Mrs. Wright. Won't happen again. I'll see you ladies." Stan climbs back in the truck and backs out of the driveway, waving. With my arm around her shoulders, I guide my mother back inside the house.

"You take it easy, Mom. Look what happened. You want everything to be perfect and it almost got you hurt. Everything's perfect just as long as you and Dad are here by my side." I escort my mother to her favorite chair and prop her feet up on the matching foot stool.

"Are you by any chance buttering me up so I can help you pay for a new car?" My mother eyed me warily.

"It depends. Is it working?" I wink at her and she laughs. I always love making my mother laugh.

"A bit. I'll talk to your dad and see how much we can pitch in for your new car." I squeal in delight and embrace her. "Ep,ep, ep... But I'm not going to pay for an expensive car. I still have to pay for your tuition." My mother takes her obligation about my education very seriously. It's the Filipino in her.

"Sure Mom. This is the reason why I didn't want you to throw me a party in the first place. I really need all the money to pay for a new car. I love you. I love you, Mom." I kiss my mother on the cheek and she kisses me back.

"Oh my baby is 18 years old. An adult." She sniffles and I see her eyes tearing up.

"Oh, Mom. Not that again."

"What? You are my baby. You will always be my baby."

"Not for long." The voice in my head whispers and I froze, startled, as a fierce growl came after those words.