The Real Reason

As the wax dripped down her ‘21’ candle, Hope contemplated this day marking four years of her captivity. 

Well, it hasn’t been that bad. Sort of. It’s hard to explain. No one expected my parents to be hit by that drunk driver. And Aunt Judy and Uncle Max stepped up. They’ve been great… in their own way. They’re doing their best. They love me. Maybe too much. Wow, am I really that selfish?

Her gaze shifted towards the kitchen window, admiring the sapphire water gently rolling into the harbour. She adored Halifax’s breezy boardwalks and trendy streets, but it was all she’d ever known. If only she could venture beyond the shore…

“Ugh, Max, did you use the candles from the blue box?” Aunt Judy called out as she hustled to the pantry.

Hope turned towards the basement stairs where, after several moments, Uncle Max began stomping up each Everest of a step. “Huh?”

Aunt Judy shuffled through the cupboard. “I told you to use the ones from the red box. The blue ones are dollar store candles and they don’t last very long.”

Uncle Max huffed. “Hmm.”

“These are the good ones,” Aunt Judy remarked, tugging a dusty, red shoebox out of the cupboard. “They’re from Michaels; the quality is way better. I don’t want our girl eating waxy cake.”

“And you think I do?”

Hope stared at her fingers, debating whether to twiddle them or dig her nails into her skin. Don’t forget all they’ve done for you.

“Hope, sweetie,” Aunt Judy said as she walked towards her niece, “which candles do you want?”

Hope’s eyes shot up, flickering between Aunt Judy’s restless stare and Uncle Max’s dejected slouch. Someone was about to be disappointed. Who would be today’s victim?

“Uh, I don’t think it really matters.” Hope really didn’t want to decide.

Aunt Judy sighed. “I really don’t want to scrape off wax.”

Hope glanced over to Uncle Max, who quietly breathed his last fighting breath. She looked back to Aunt Judy, whose walnut brown eyes angled themselves directly into her soul.

Her chest tightened. She had to think of something. Fast.

“Well, the blue box candles are already on the cake, so we may as well use those… But maybe we could add one or two of the fancy candles as decorations.”

Aunt Judy’s eyes eased. “Oh, good idea. Let’s do that.”

Hope relaxed her shoulders. We got through it.

“Max, could you get that organized, please?” Aunt Judy asked. “I need to find my phone.”

As Aunt Judy left the room, Hope turned towards Uncle Max, whose eyes had just finished rolling. Maybe not.

Uncle Max skimmed through the red box’s contents, searching for the perfect candles to plunge into Hope’s red velvet cake. 

“I wonder how birthday candles became a thing,” he pondered.

Hope shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t know.”

“Because, think about it… Wax isn’t exactly something anyone thinks of snacking on. But to stick a piece of wax into a cake, however sanitary that might’ve been… How did they store it afterwards? I guess candles can be reused, as long as there’s a functioning wick in there. We just use a box around here—two boxes, apparently—but, I guess someone also had to be the first to take an egg, bake it, and think, ‘Gee, I could make something really delicious out of this,’ and then add a bunch of flour and sugar… What else goes into cake? Milk? Vanilla, maybe? It’s funny, I wonder…”

“Okay, let’s have some cake!”

Aunt Judy strutted towards the kitchen, phone in tow, prompting Uncle Max to end his monologue early. She stood next to him, rubbing her hand along her husband’s back as he kept his hands firmly folded in front of him. The two of them faced their niece, who was distracted by the sound of her own teeth grinding.

“Honey, your uncle and I are so proud of you,” Aunt Judy began. “You’ve grown into a strong and beautiful young woman, and you’ve been such a peaceful presence around the house.”

Aunt Judy turned to Uncle Max. He offered a faint tongue click and head nod. She carried on. 

“It has been the biggest joy of our lives to finally have a child these past four years… The circumstances were terrible, but we’d just thought that door had closed for us… I guess I just want to say that we’re always here for you. Happy birthday, honey.”

As her aunt and uncle began singing to her, Hope could only focus on some of Aunt Judy’s final words: We’re always here for you. That was both the provision and the problem. If it hadn’t been for them, she would’ve been homeless at 17. And yet, if it hadn’t been for them, she wouldn’t have needed to be the one holding this family together.

No, don’t be ungrateful… don’t be ungrateful…

* * *

When Hope retreated to her room for the night, she sat on her bed, responding to all the birthday texts she’d received during the day. After a few messages, she came across a notification that wasn’t a text.

It was an email from Emily Carr University of Art + Design. The verdict of her application was in.

Her heart stopped. She’d been aching to be an artist since high school. Wasting no time, she opened the email:

Dear Ms. Ludwig,

I am delighted to inform you of your acceptance into the Visual Arts program, commencing in the Fall of 2024. 

Hope slapped her palm across her mouth. 

“I got in,” she whispered. “I actually got in!” 

There were more words in the email, but she could hardly focus on them. The adrenaline kept her skimming through the rest of the message, only to pause at the final few sentences:

We can’t wait to meet you this fall. Welcome to Vancouver!

Her heart sank. She was thrilled to have been accepted, but she realized she had to break the news to her family first. She was finally going to leave the nest.

* * *

God, I’ll really need your help for this one…

Hope leaned against her washroom countertop, praying for strength to get through the next few minutes. She couldn’t take a steady breath, but she knew this was a conversation she needed to have. This could finally kick-start her journey towards becoming an artist. Plus, Aunt Judy and Uncle Max could have the house to themselves again, which would help them focus on each other. Everybody would benefit… right?

It’s okay. You can still love them while also wanting to move away. That doesn’t make you a bad surrogate daughter. That makes you a healthy adult.

After one more deep breath, Hope emerged to find Aunt Judy chopping carrots.

“Good morning, sleepy head!” Aunt Judy exclaimed.

Hope checked her watch. It was 9:02 on a Saturday. She felt her cheeks grow hot.

“I’ve had a great day so far,” Aunt Judy continued. “I woke up in time to catch the cycling club and got in a good 30 kilometres by 7:00. Then, I decided to get started on dinner—we’re having chicken pot pie tonight.”

Hope wallowed in her own laziness until she noticed Uncle Max silently climbing the stairs. He slowly nudged his way over to give her a morning hug, as per routine.

“Sounds like it has been a good day,” Hope remarked as Uncle Max sat down next to her.

“Yes, it has!” Aunt Judy continued. “And I had my best cycling times of the season so far. It felt—” 

A faint ding echoed in the background, demanding Aunt Judy’s attention. “Oh, the laundry’s done already!”

As Aunt Judy gathered the clothes, Uncle Max saw his opportunity. 

“So, I saw a video last night about car manufacturers,” he began, “and did you know that somewhere around 80% of all car crashes occur three seconds after the driver first gets distracted? The thing is, it’s so preventable…”

Hope kept her ears on her uncle and her eyes on her aunt, watching as Aunt Judy prepared to leave the room to fold the laundry. Hope’s window was slipping away. She had to say something.

“Actually…”

Uncle Max jumped back. Aunt Judy looked up. 

Hope had the stage. It was time to own it.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt”—she definitely meant to interrupt—“but I actually have some news that I want to share with you both.”

Aunt Judy’s head perked up, mostly watching Hope but glancing over to her husband. Uncle Max followed suit.

“Okay, sweetie,” Aunt Judy said. “But can you tell us in the family room? I don’t want the laundry to get wrinkly.”

As her aunt and uncle made their way to the family room, Hope noticed her cotton t-shirt fluttering above her chest, but she knew she had to push on. She entered the room, seeing her aunt folding laundry on one end of the couch and her uncle simply watching her from the other end. She plunked herself squarely in between them.

“So,” Hope began, sighing deeply, “the reason why I wanted to talk to you is because… I applied to an art school in Vancouver a few months ago, and I just found out that… I got in.”

Her aunt dropped her black jeans.

“That’s wonderful news!” She hurried over to bear-hug her niece. “Congratulations, honey. When did you find out?”

“Just yesterday,” Hope said, releasing her aunt’s embrace. “It’s a visual arts program. I can take a minor if I want to as well, but I might figure that out later.”

Once Aunt Judy had moved back to the laundry, Hope turned to Uncle Max, who silently smiled and leaned towards her.

“Congratulations, sweetie,” he said, side-hugging her. “You’re as deserving a candidate as it gets.”

“Thank you,” she said, releasing him as well. “Thank you both.” 

“When does it start?” Uncle Max asked.

“In September, so it’s pretty soon.”

“Okay, we still have a few months,” Aunt Judy said. “We’ll have plenty of time to get you settled.”

“Thanks, you guys,” Hope said, sinking into the back of the couch. “I was a bit worried about how you’d react because Vancouver is so far away, but I’m really excited about it.”

“We want what’s best for you, honey,” Aunt Judy remarked. “And, you know, it’ll be a big move for us, but we can make Vancouver work as well.”

Hope actively fought the urge to widen her eyes. Us? We?

“I, uh… Sorry, what did you say?”

“Well, we’d go out there with you. I don’t know what the market is like these days, but with Vancouver prices being what they are, I’d say a townhouse would probably be best.”

Hope sat up again. 

“We know you’re very capable, sweetie,” Uncle Max chimed in, “but, you know… It’s hard for anyone to get settled into a new place, and we just want to be around to help you.”

What is happening?

Hope stared at the carpet, panicking to find her next words.

“I… Um…”

She raised her head to see her aunt putting the laundry basket on the floor and her uncle leaning his arms on his thighs. Her heart was racing now. She knew where this conversation was going.

“I was actually thinking that… I would go… alone.”

Silence struck the room. Hope fiddled with her necklace, sensing the piercing glares of her aunt and uncle being shot in her direction.

“Alone?” Aunt Judy asked.

“It’s just that… I don’t know, all my high school friends are graduating from university this year. They’ve gone off and had all these adventures, and I’ve just kinda been… here.”

“But you’ve been taking care of your family. And family doesn’t just stop being important.”

That got Hope’s blood boiling. 

“I’m not saying that family’s not important,” she argued, “but I am saying that I didn’t think this was where I’d be at 21 years old.”

“Well, no one did. No one was planning for your parents to die.”

“No, of course not. But that was four years ago, and I’ve grown up a lot since then.”

“Honey, this doesn’t sound like you.”

Hope dug her fingernails into her fleshy thumb. If only you knew.

“I have something to say.”

She shuddered at the sound of Uncle Max’s voice, but slowly shifted her body towards him.

“When your parents died, we talked to several professionals about what would happen with you,” he continued. “We read the will, which insisted that you stay with us, so we’ve been doing everything in our power to give you as close to a normal life as we could. And given the fact that we couldn’t have our own children—”

“But that had nothing to do with me,” Hope jumped in. “You guys chose not to adopt or anything when you realized you couldn’t have kids. And don’t get me wrong, I’m so sorry you had to go through that, but I’m also not a kid anymore. I’m ready to start being a proper adult.”

“Halifax is a big enough city for you to live your adult life and still be with family,” Uncle Max retorted. “What was wrong with Dalhousie?”

“Dal didn’t have the program I wanted—I mean, it had the program, but it’s not the same as being at a school completely dedicated to the arts.”

“Then go to NSCAD.”

“I don’t want to go to NSCAD.”

“Why not?”

She hesitated. “I—Because I’m ready for a new challenge in a new city.” If only YOU knew.

“You can live at home and still go to NSCAD. It’ll save us thousands of dollars in additional fees between cost of living, transportation—”

“I’ll work extra if I have to. But why are you suddenly demanding that I stay in Halifax? To be close to you? Did I ever have the option of going to Vancouver on my own? Fine, I’ll say it—I don’t want to stay at home. I don’t even know where home is anymore!”

“How can you say that?” Aunt Judy accused. “This is your home.”

“This was my home, but I don't know if it is now.”

“Yes, you do,” Uncle Max pressed. “You are not going to Vancouver without us.”

“But that’s not fair!” 

“Why are you saying these things?” Aunt Judy asked, wounded. “Why are you so averse to staying at home?”

“BECAUSE I CAN’T DEAL WITH THE CONSTANT TENSION BETWEEN YOU TWO!”

That took Aunt Judy and Uncle Max by surprise. It even shocked Hope that those words had left her body. Nobody quite knew how to handle her comment.

“Sure, every family has tension,” Uncle Max reasoned, “but we always talk it out and move on.”

“You don’t understand,” Hope said. “It’s not a here-and-there kind of thing. It’s everywhere, all the time. It’s like everyone walks on eggshells around here.”

“Honey, I don’t get where this is coming from,” Aunt Judy added. “We gave you everything.”

Hope, through blurry eyes, trembled before her aunt and uncle. “And you gave each other nothing.”

Silence.

Hope dropped her head. No one was jumping in, so she kept talking.

“Look, I am so… thankful… for you two. You took me in, fed me, let me drive your car, and generally gave me all the love and affection that I couldn’t get from anybody else.”

As her lips trembled, she continued staring at her toes, which curled towards one another.

“But I always knew there was tension between you two. It’s so obvious… And nobody talked about it—you just went on life as if the tension wasn’t there, while simultaneously contributing to it every time you were in the same room together.”

She couldn’t stop the tears from dripping down her cheeks.

“But I also felt like I was being so unfair to you guys... I’ve never been married or told that I couldn’t have kids before, and I knew I was your one chance to become the parents you’d always wanted to be. I just felt so guilty for leaving you alone... But I also felt like life has kinda been moving on without me, and I’m so sick of crying about it. I want to have another chance at a normal life, but if I go… I worry that your relationship is gonna fall apart, and you’ll always resent me for resenting each other.”

Hope collapsed into her cupped hands, sobbing with all the tears she had left to give. After a few moments, she felt the couch cushion dip to her right, along with Aunt Judy’s hand resting on her mid-back. Seconds later, she felt the same on her left side, with Uncle Max’s hand landing on her shoulder.

No one said a word.

For minutes.

Just tears.

And heartache.

And years of trauma finally bubbling to the surface.

Gradually, Hope’s tears relented. As more time went by, she realized that she’d been the only one talking and couldn’t stand how quiet it was. NOW is when neither of you have something to say?

But she held her tongue. She knew they had some talking to do by themselves, first.

“I’m gonna go for a walk. I might see if Amy’s free today.”

“Okay,” Aunt Judy responded.

With that, Hope pushed herself off the couch and rushed to her room, grabbing her purse, phone, and house key. After forcing on the closest pair of shoes she could find, she burst out the door, not even making it to the driveway before collapsing into tears all over again. And yet, the air had never felt lighter.

They finally know.

And I’m finally free.