Mary Jane listened to the crowd roar. Their excited energy spilled into the cool shadows right off stage, where she stood. She stood still nestled in the darkness, her thoughts steady and organized, only amplified by the crowd's ecstatic uproar. The air was electric with anticipation. Mary Jane composed herself, dusting off the invisible fuzz from her stunning navy pantsuit and smoothing back a non-existent stray hair. Mary Jane was the perfect image of a successful confident woman. She was a New York best-selling author, and her work sold globally. She was respected and well-established, not only in the literature world but also as a frequent guest speaker at women's rights conferences and anti-violence campaigns. People listened when she spoke, she was known for her impeccable taste in art and writing. Her word was truth. Mary Jane was glamorous and elegant, attending galas and premerise. Featured in magazines and received award after award. Often dining with movie stars and politicians. The cream of the crop. Gods among mortal men. Successful and renowned.
“Can you believe she’s only 27?”
“That Mary Jane is going places.”
You can bet on your poodle she did it all in heels.
Now, she was at the pinnacle of her career. Opal was calling, The New York Times did a piece on her and her newly released novel had just received Book of the Year. She was waiting just off stage, ready to go on and accept her award. Mary Jane would accept graciously and humbly with a speech that brought tears to onlookers' eyes. “Welcome, the young wonderchild of a auther…Mary Jane!” With a calm breath, she stepped on stage.
Under the bright lights, her smile flashed even brighter. This is where she was meant to be. The audience erupted into a frenzy of thundering applause. The crowd was draped in shadows, thousands of adoring eyes watching her. The attention filled her, and like a flower in the sun, she bloomed. The glassy black camera, beeping red didn’t scare her like it used to. She was a pro at this, she had mastered the show biz to perfection. Every movement, casual and effortless, a smile never slipped from her face. It was just habit now. The host kept talking, commenting on her outfit and listing numerous accomplishments. At this point, it was all just background noise, but Mary Jane managed to fake a blush and chip in here in there when necessary. She faked attentiveness, but she really was just eating up the attention. Mary Jane stepped onto the little podium, and with a smile, she accepted the large gold trophy. “Book of the year” engraved in the expensive-looking base. She had dreamed of this moment since she was a kid. Writing little stories in notebooks, and reading them out loud to her family. All those days and months spent, working her butt off. And it was finally here, but now…the trophy was cold and heavy in her hands. Her smile froze as she scanned the crowd, actually scanning it, not just inhaling the adoration. Not a single familiar face. She was surrounded by strangers. The speech she had planned, slid to the floor with a splat. From the pocket of her pantsuit, her phone rang, echoing in the exhilarating silence. Oh no! Mary Jane was almost confident she had left it with her assistant. Clummsily she fumbled it out, almost dropping the trophy. She was about to silence it when she saw the ID, “Mom”. Mary Jane froze. It was her kid sister's birthday today, she was turning 13. She hadn’t forgotten, she had sent a card and lots of presents. But…she wasn’t with her sister, on her birthday. Instead, she was surrounded by a bunch of strangers, pretending to be someone she wasn’t. “I..I gotta go.” The smile was vacant from her face, and she felt…empty. Empty and cold.
Thrusting the trophy into a befuddled hosts’ hands. She slid down off the stage, landing in a humiliating pile on the hard ground. Backside throbbing, she looked up to find thousands of confused eyes watching her. No one helped her up. Stumbling to her feet, ankles wobbling, head pounding. She felt like a lost kid. Tearing down the aisle, she ripped off her high heels, leaving the Jimmy Choo’s discarded in her wake. Breaking into a run. Mary Jane was going home. She flung open the big doors, not stopping for a second. Cold winter wind greeted her and the sun was barely visible on the horizon. Barefooted she ran down the snowy sidewalk, snowflakes adorned her now free hair. She was running, the city lights flying past, icy air filling her lungs. She hadn’t felt this alive in a long time. A big smile sat on her face, not the one she used on TV or in magazines, but a real honest smile. Wait, she couldn’t run all the way home. Stopping she started laughing, really laughing, snorting, and chuckling, the laughter coated her rib cage with bubbly warmth. For no reason other than just to laugh. She started spinning, barefoot in the snow, spinning round and around. Remembering all those times when she was young, she would just spin in circles, not caring if anyone was watching. Spinning just to spin, watching the colors and lights twist into a breathtaking view. Exhilarated, she set off for home.
“Taxi, taxi!”
Three of the bright yellow cars passed her by before one finally pulled over. Understandable, given the state she was in. Her once pristine navy pantsuit was now ripped and soaked at the hems. Her long chestnut hair was disheveled and hanging loose around her shoulders. Barefooted and wild. A sight to behold.
Mary Jane jumped into the car with a giggle. The blast of dry warm air shot her numb fingers and toes with tingling. The tired driver glanced in the review mirror, with a sigh. Another nut job. “Where to?”
“Home.” Mary Jane replied smiling out the window.
“Alrighty, so the mental facility.” the driver said exasperatedly.
Mary Jane met his eyes in the review mirror sharply. There was a moment of excruciating silence. The driver gulped, immediately regretting his choices. Then Mary Jane started laughing, hysterically. Her brown eyes crinkled, her laughter ringing in the warm air like bells. He would never have guessed she was an award-winning author with a net worth of $2 million. Since Mary Jane had entered the world of the elite, everyone treated her differently. Always smiling and giving her compliments, it was sickening really. It made for a very lonely life. The drivers' brutal words were…refreshing.
Her words still bright with laughter, “9976 Talbot Road, right off exit 89.”
The driver nodded gruffly, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Which only added to Mary Jane’s amusement. This is gonna be a fun drive, the driver thought sarcastically.
When they arrived in the neighborhood, it was dark. The only illumination came from porch lights and warm street lights above. Mary Jane's stomach churned. She could easily face down pestering paparazzi and overbearing TV hosts, but facing her estranged family was a different story. They had been super close when she was young, but when Mary Jane turned 22 and her career lifted off, she just got so busy. At first, only coming home for holidays then disappeared from their lives for good. Mary Jane couldn’t even remember the last time she called her family, let alone see them. There would be the occasional message, but other than the prompt birthday presents and in personal card her assistant arranged, that was the extent of their relationship. There was a part of her that was worried that she would not be welcomed. However, before she could back out they arrived at the house. From the car window, she watched quietly. Some Christmas lights were already put up, the driveway neatly shoveled, and the lawn sparkling with snow. It was…home. The house she had grown up in. Where she had learned to read. She had skinned her knee on that very sidewalk, and her mother had wrapped it up, sealing it with a kiss in that very kitchen. Where she had learned how to drive. Her first kiss with her first boyfriend was on that very porch. Also, the place she had run home crying when that same boyfriend broke her heart. Mary Janes’ mother had greeted her at the door with ice cream and tissues. They binge-watched her favorite movie and her mother slept with her on the couch that night. Mary Jane's heart ached at the sight of that house, she couldn’t comprehend how she could have beared to stay away for so long. “This is my stop, have a good night.” Mary Jane said to the bashful driver who only replied with a nod before rushing off.
Mary Jane walked up to the house, her bare feet growing cold. She only hesitated a second before stepping onto the porch. With a shaky breath, she knocked on the door. Mary Jane grew panicky as she heard shuffling around on the other side of the door. She still had time to run, she could dive into the bushes, call an Uber, claim the award walkout was just for effect, go home to her apartment, and crack open a bottle of rose….the door opened.
Her mother was standing there, her brown eyes wide with surprise. She looked basically the same as Mary Jane remembered besides light evidence of smile wrinkles and a couple streaks of silver. Her mother just stood there, watching. Mary Jane wrung her cold fingers, panic filling her vision. “I..I..can go, if you want me to. I’m sorry for not coming sooner, and I totally understand if you don’t want me here…” Mary Janes stuttered words interrupted with a bear hug.
Her mother’s arms were around her, warm and strong. She smelled exactly like Mary Jane remembered. Then Mary Jane was crying. Crying and hugging her back. Ugly crying, her face contorted and snot running. Mary Janes’ shoulders shook, shivering like she was cold. Realizing how cold she had been, she had been cold for a very long time. Cold and lonely. Lost and afraid. Cold ever so cold. But now her mom was hugging her, and pulling her into the warm familiar house. And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel so cold and empty. Mary Jane began to thaw.
Then her mother was kissing her, kissing her wet cheeks and cold forehead. That only made her cry harder, her mother was crying too. Their tears mixed together. Then her sister came from around the corner. She looked so much older. Almost Mary Jane's height. She was beautiful. Mary Jane was scared all over again, scared to be rejected. For a second her sister watched her from a distance, but then she was in her arms, crying. “I missed you! I missed you! I missed you! I missed you! I missed you! I missed you!” an endless chorus of tears and hugs.
Other family members began to filter in. Tearful hugs. Her dad hugged her close, his chest trembled against her ear as he softly cried. Mary Jane was surrounded by people she knew and loved. Reunited at last. She had never felt so warm.
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