Iama kindergarten teacher.
Iteach…
I had no idea why I talked about that life in the present tense. As if it had just been temporarily interrupted and I would eventually return to it again.
But there was no coming back. Not anymore. Sadness brushed against my heart, but it didn’t feel as devastating as it probably should.
“I have a family. A mom, a dad, and a younger brother,” I continued, “but I left home a long time ago. I’ve been living on my own for many years. I have an apartment… Ihadan apartment,” I finally corrected myself.
There was no truth in the present tense anymore. I might as well get used to it.
“What’s it like…to have a family?” Timur pushed each word through his throat with effort. It obviously hurt him to speak, but he kept asking questions. Maybe because it worked like I had hoped and having this conversation distracted him from his pain.
The question puzzled me, however.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Did you never have one?”
“No.”
How was it even possible?
Timur and I had never had conversations like this before. Maybe this wasn’t the best time for one either. The wind blasted us with sand and ocean spray. The storm crackled with ferocity, but there was no rain. Dark, heavy clouds churned above us, blocking sunlight, but they didn’t spill even a drop of moisture, bringing no relief from the heat.
In a slow, measured movement, Timur lifted his wings, arching them above us as a shield from the storm and any unwanted attention.
I wanted to ask him about the wings and about the family he said he’d never had. I had so many questions. But he struggled to breathe, and I didn’t want to make him speak more than he could manage right now. So I spoke instead.
“It’s…nice. To have a family, I mean. I had a good childhood, with holiday celebrations, family vacations, and birthday parties. I miss my parents. And my brother.” I sighed as my heart tightened. “I wish there was a way for me to let them know what happened to me. I know they’re worried and they deserve closure. But my parents and I haven’t been close for years. I made a point to call them once a month, but there was so little for us to talk about. My mom would tell me about my brother, and I would tell her that I’m still single, and that would be it.”
“Why?” he panted.
I smiled against his skin. There might be a bit of old bitterness still lingering in me about it, but it long stopped disturbing my peace.
“It is what it is,” I said softly. “My brother has always been their favorite, from the day he was born. At first, he was the youngest and the cutest one. Then, his numerous academic achievements proved he was the smartest one too. He finished high school a year earlier than his peers, got into a prestigious program in a great university, and was doing amazing there too. He also has the sweetest girlfriend and fantastic prospects for his future. And me…well, I’m ‘just a glorified nanny for other people’s kids’ like my dad has put it once, with no husband, no kids, not even a cat.”
“Do you like cats?” he asked.
Of everything I’d just told him, that was what caught his attention?
I exhaled a soft laugh, my mood lifting, and maybe that was the point of his question.
“I love cats,” I confessed. “We always had at least one when I was a kid. But since I moved out, I didn’t have enough time for a pet. I worked long hours, and I volunteered a lot too…”
I let my voice trail off with regret.
“You’ll end up alone and die an old cat lady,”my mother’s voice echoed in my mind.
Maybe I’d tried to fight the stereotype by not getting a pet. How stupid was that?
“You know what?” I said. “Fuck it. I should’ve gotten a cat.”
“You should have,” he agreed. “You love fur.”
“You think I should get a cat for its fur?” I snorted an incredulous laugh.
“You like soft things. I bet you had a lot of fuzzy blankets in your old dwelling.”
I rose on my upper arm to see his face.
