Chapter 4: Chance Encounters

As I stomped my way back to the gate, rumbling words and wishing the worst possible things upon the stranger who had crossed my path, I couldn't help but feel like I had strayed from my usual demeanor. But encountering that guy had put me in a sour mood.

"Kid? Kid? Who does he think he is?"

Just as I was about to enter the gate, a familiar voice spoke behind me, causing me to pause for a moment to process who it might be.

"Well, you don't look like you're having a good day."

My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the voice. It was overly familiar, and it stopped me dead in my tracks. I turned around swiftly and practically ran over to where she was standing.

"Lizzy!" I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around her so tightly I was sure she found it hard to breathe.

"Woah, Woah, Woah... you big piece of bear..." Lizzy chuckled, complaining about my tight embrace. But she knew she couldn't blame me. We hadn't seen each other in months.

After I finally pulled away from her, my mouth ran with questions. "Since when did you come back? How was UNI? Gosh, you're glowing!" We hugged again, squealing in excitement.

'Lizzy', Elizabeth Jorgensen, my cousin from my father's side, born from his younger brother, Uncle Tom. We share the same mix of ethnicity and from my father's side, it was only my father and her father who bore kids, making us practically sisters since we grew up so close. Lizzy was a lot older than me, already in college while I was still in high school.

Lizzy's father had chosen a different path from my own, and my father had never been able to reconcile his brother's decision. Instead of joining our family's organization, Lizzy's dad became a real estate agent, which my father considered beneath him. He discouraged Lizzy's dad from pursuing such a career, but it provided enough for their family, including sending Lizzy to the Philippines to finish her college degree and learn more about our Grams' culture. Lizzy had fallen in love with our heritage, and it was obvious to everyone around her.

I never agreed with how my father looked down on Lizzy's family simply because they chose a different path. He never liked me spending time with Lizzy, fearing she would "influence" me, but I didn't want to be part of the Legacy anyway. I was born into it, not because I chose it. Despite my father's efforts to bring his brother into the organization, he just wanted to prove that he was better at making decisions than Uncle Tom.

But my father had no right to treat them with such disdain and forbid me from hanging out with Lizzy. My mother and I both appreciated Lizzy's company too much to let my father's issues with his younger brother get in the way.

"I shouldn't even be here right now, you know... University sucks, and even in the summer, it's not easy to come home," Lizzy said, shaking her head.

I chuckled at her familiar humor. Lizzy had always been the funny one between the two of us, always cracking jokes to lighten up the mood.

"You haven't changed a bit," I said, grinning as I spread my arms wide.

Just then, my mother's voice interrupted us from inside the gate. "Jade? Who's there?" she called out, curious.

As she stepped outside and caught sight of Lizzy, a broad smile lit up her face. "Elizabeth! It's so good to see you," she exclaimed, opening her arms for a hug.

Lizzy returned the embrace, and they both laughed as my mom made a lighthearted joke. "I knew it was you the moment I heard that noise," she teased.

"Sweetie, when did you get back?" my mother's voice carried through the air as she approached Lizzy.

"I just got in last night, Aunt Carol. I wanted to drop by, but the jet lag had me beat." Lizzy's voice was apologetic.

"And where are you staying? Aren't you heading home to California?" my mother asked.

"I booked a hotel room. You know we can't stay with you guys, Uncle Gerard wouldn't have it," Lizzy joked, but we all knew it was true. While I wished she could stay with us, I didn't want to cause any trouble with my father. But we could still hang out while she was here.

My mother gave her a sympathetic look, but Lizzy waved it off, saying she understood where my father was coming from. But I didn't think that gave my father the right to look down on Lizzy's family.

"I'll be here for a few days, trying to cheer up this sulky little bear," she gestured to me, and we both laughed. "Then I'll be heading back home to California for the rest of the summer."

It was heartwarming to see how close Lizzy was to my mother, almost like another daughter. I watched as they held hands and chatted like old friends, and it made me smile.

I observed their lively conversation, admiring the bond between them. My mother eventually suggested that Lizzy stay for dinner since her visit was brief and she would soon return to college.

As we settled into the backseat of the car, I seized the opportunity to ask her about her time in the Philippines.

"So, how was it to stay in the Philippines?" I inquired.

Lizzy let out a dramatic, satisfied sigh and tossed her hair, exclaiming, "Hah! Sobrang magin-hawa!"

We all laughed at her attempt to mimic our grandmother's Tagalog accent.

"You still love that, huh?" I teased.

"Hey, we both have that blood running in our veins, so there's nothing wrong with speaking like a Filipina. I'm still not that good at it," she replied, and we laughed once more.

I was astonished to hear how fluent she was in speaking our grandmother's language.

"Oh, my god! You're actually good at it!" I exclaimed, surprised.

She shrugged, mouthing "I know" at me.

Mom spoke from the driver's seat without taking her eyes off the road.

"Why don't you try speaking it, Jade? I've heard you speak Tagalog before."

"No, no, no, no, no... I'm not doing it for you guys. I don't even remember which word is which..." I protested, shaking my head.

"Oh, come on. You were better at it than me when we were young," Lizzy interjected, insisting that I give it a try.

"That was when we were younger, Lizzy. Now, I can't even remember the words," I explained, shrugging my shoulders.

Lizzy looked at me skeptically, not buying my excuse.

"You're such a terrible liar," she teased, furrowing her eyebrows and crossing her arms.

"I'm telling you na-kali-mutan... ako... I mean... ko na ang... mag-Sali... hmmm... Sali-ta ng tagalog (I've already forgotten how to speak Tagalog)," I stuttered, struggling to form a sentence in the language I once knew so well.

Everyone in the car burst out laughing at my comical attempt to speak the language of our grandmother.

"I guess I'm just not into speaking Tagalog anymore," I declared, joining in on the laughter for the rest of the ride.

*****

As dinner ended, it was time for Lizzy to leave, and I couldn't be happier to have spent even just a short time with her. It might be months or even a year before I see her again, but tonight was nice.

She stood at the gate, her driver waiting inside the car that picked her up.

"Jade, I'm sorry I wasn't there for Gramps' funeral," she said, taking hold of my hands. The mention of my grandfather's name made my chest tighten, and my expression must have shown it.

"Don't worry about it," I replied, looking at her.

"To make it up to you, I left flowers for Gramps before I came here."

"You did?" I said, feeling somewhat relieved. I knew school wouldn't have allowed her to attend the funeral, but it still meant a lot to me that she found a way to show her love and respect for our grandfather.

"It's fine. Gramps would have loved the flowers," I said, trying to smile.

"Don't worry, they were the prettiest ones I could find. Just like me," she said, playfully winking at me. I groaned, pushing her lightly towards the gate.

"Go on, get out of here," I said, and we both laughed before saying our final goodbyes, and she drove off into the night.

As I entered the house, my thoughts drifted to the encounter with the guy from the store who vandalized my grandfather's walls. For a moment, I almost forgot about him.

But as I made my way to my room, a plan began to form in my mind - one that didn't involve my mom. This was just between me and that jerk.

Instead of going straight to my room, I headed outside to the garage. I couldn't believe I still had to pass by the pool to get there. The house was too big for just the three or four people who lived in it.

Pushing the thought aside, I fumbled for the light switch and the dim light illuminated the garage. I knew this was where mom stored the remaining things we hadn't used for the day's activity. And I was sure I had seen her grab a can of white paint at the store, which was exactly what I was looking for.

I rummaged through everything in the garage, trying to make as little noise as possible to avoid drawing attention from Glenda and mom. After a few minutes, I found the can of paint and laughed devilishly in my mind as I thought about how to use it.

Should I go back to Gramps' house tomorrow and paint over the vandalism myself? Or should I find the guy and make him clean up his mess? Or better yet, pour the entire can of paint in his face?

I was almost tempted by the last option, but I knew that wasn't what my grandfather would want me to do. It wasn't his way of doing things, and I needed to honor his memory.

I ultimately opted for my initial plan.

I set the can of paint aside and searched for a matching paint roller. After finding one, I left the garage closed and made my way back inside the house. I managed to enter my room without any interference from my mom or Glenda.

*****

(Next Day)

I struggled to pull my short hair back into a ponytail, regretting the decision to chop it off. Eventually, I gave up and opted for a bandana, tying it behind my head to keep my hair out of my face. As I made my way downstairs, my mom took notice of my appearance.

"Jade, you look nice. Are you going somewhere, sweetie?" She sat on the couch, sipping her tea, already dressed up for the day. I found it strange that my parents would always choose to wear their most elegant outfits, even when they were just staying at home.

"I'm actually on my way to Gramps' house. Is that okay with you?" I tried to sound innocent, masking my true intentions.

My mom smiled and didn't hesitate to give me permission. "Of course, you can go. Do you need the car? The keys are in my room, I'll have Glenda get them for you."

I shook my head. "No, Mom. I prefer to walk. I haven't been getting enough exercise lately, and I'm not really fond of driving anyway."

She smiled again, pleased to see me stepping out of my shell. It made me happy to see her smile.

"Okay then, be careful out there, honey," my mom smiled at me one last time before I kissed her on the cheek and headed towards the door. I checked my appearance in the mirror and took a deep breath before stepping outside.

I couldn't believe I was walking all the way to my Gramps' house with a huge can of paint in one hand and a roller in the other, a strap hanging from my left shoulder holding my water jug.

Despite the sunny weather, I couldn't escape the sweat pouring down my face, and by the time I arrived at Gramps' house, I was completely drenched and exhausted.

Just in time, Chandler appeared outside the gate, absorbed in his phone. He heard the clanking of the paint roller handle and looked up at me.

"Jade, right? Mrs. Jorgensen's daughter," he said, putting his phone in his pocket and extending his hand. But then he noticed my hands were full and quickly pulled his hand back. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize your hands were occupied. Let me help you."

Chandler took the can from me and placed it inside the gate. I thanked him for his kindness.

"You painting or something?" he asked as he turned to face me.

"Yeah, actually. I caught a guy vandalizing the wall yesterday. How did you not see him?" I replied, trying my best to hide my annoyance.

Realization dawned on Chandler's face, and he started scratching the back of his head. "I'm really sorry, ma'am. I had to take a call yesterday and didn't get the chance to let you guys know that I was leaving. Let me paint it for you," he offered.

It was a weak excuse, but I decided to let it slide. However, I couldn't accept his offer. "No, it's fine. I can do the painting myself. Just don't let it happen again, okay? And please, call me Jade." I dismissed myself and grabbed the paint can to take it inside the house.

He awkwardly nodded his head in response.

As I made my way inside Gramps' house, I spotted a couple of mixing bowls on the side of the road. I scooped them up, knowing they would be useful for the paint job ahead.

Arriving at the scene of the vandalism, I felt my chest tighten with anger once again. The culprit's smirking face flashed in my mind, making me want to hurl the paint roller at him if I ever saw him again.

But I had a task to complete, and I couldn't let my emotions get in the way. I shook off the thought of the jerk and focused on the wall in front of me. With each roll of the paint, the vandalism slowly disappeared from view, and a sense of satisfaction washed over me.

******

As summer draws to a close, I can't help but feel a sense of dread as the start of the school year approaches. While everyone else is excited to show off their tanned skin and catch up with friends, I'm still trying to recover from the events of the past few months.

My mom is eager for me to go back to school, but I'm not sure if I'm ready. Will I be able to handle being around so many people again? Will I be able to focus on my studies or will my mind constantly drift to the past?

Despite my doubts, I try to convince myself that maybe school will be a good distraction. Maybe it will help me move on from what happened and find some sense of normalcy again.

But even the thought of school can't completely distract me from the encounter I had with that shameless man at Gramps' house. His infuriating smirk is etched into my mind and it's enough to ruin my whole day.

Now, as I sit in the kitchen waiting for my mom to make me tea, I try to occupy my mind with anything else. I tap my fingers on the counter, thinking of ways to keep my mind busy and distracted from the memories that still haunt me.

She interrupted my thoughts with a gentle question, "When do you want to visit your Gramps' house again, sweetie?" I scrunched my nose, unsure of how to respond. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I couldn't bring myself to pretend that everything was okay.

"I'm not sure, mom," I finally replied, avoiding eye contact.

"Maybe it would be good for you to go out once in a while," she suggested. "I could call Lizzy to accompany you."

I shook my head. "For what, mom? You know how it always ends up."

She reminded me of the times when I had been more adventurous, but I couldn't help feeling like those days were gone forever. "I just don't see myself getting out to have some sort of adventure because I know it won't be the same as before," I explained.

"Don't you want to discover new things?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

"I did when Gramps was with me," I replied honestly. "He made every adventure easier and more fun to learn. But now that he's gone, what else is there to discover?"

I caught a glimpse of my mother's face from the corner of my eye and saw how her expression fell. I didn't mean to hurt her, but I needed her to understand.

My mom stirred her cup of tea in silence for a while before she spoke softly, "Have you considered discovering things on your own, Jade?" Her lips curved into a slight smile.

Her smile was infectious, and I found myself smiling in response. I wondered why her smile always had that effect on me.

"Gramps wouldn't want to see you lingering on your sorrow," she continued. "He would want you to soar high and reach for the stars."

Her words hit me like lightning bolts, awakening me to the reality that I needed to make a change. My mind began to shift its ways of understanding and contemplating things.

Part of me was afraid to let my guard down, but I knew deep down that my mother had my best interests at heart. She only wanted what was best for me.

As I finished the last sip of my tea, I looked up at her and said, "Can I borrow your car?" Her smile widened, and I felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in a long while.

*****

I took one last turn and followed the path to the back of my Gramps' house, parking my mom's car out of sight from the front gate. A small walk to the front would do me good, I thought to myself.

As I stepped out of the car, a tidal wave of nostalgia hit me like a ton of bricks. The sidewalk, the tall trees, this was where my Gramps and I used to take our morning walks and runs until our legs were sore and we were laughing too hard to care.

I blinked back tears as I tried to hold it together. Wiping my hands on my jeans, I began walking towards the front gate of Gramps' house, passing the walls that had seen better days. Green vines climbed up the walls, a sign of how long it had been since anyone had taken care of the place.

But then, as I approached the gate, I froze. Last week, I had fought tooth and nail to get a glimpse of what lay beyond it. Now, as I saw what was right in front of me, my heart raced and my mind was at war with itself. Should I scream? Laugh? Cry? Smile? I had no idea what to do.

I couldn't believe what stood before me. The once pristine white wall that I had painted to cover up the ugly graffiti had transformed into a mesmerizing work of art. Swirling colors and intricate patterns blended together in perfect harmony, covering almost a third of the surrounding walls.

As I continued to gaze at the artwork, I began to notice something in the center of the swirling colors and intricate patterns. It was a rose, abstractly painted with hues of red, pink, and orange. The delicate petals and thorny stem seemed to dance and sway with the movement of the surrounding designs.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for the artist's skill in creating such a beautiful and unique interpretation of a rose. It was as if they had captured the essence of the flower and translated it into a mesmerizing display of color and form.

My heart sank as I realized that the artist behind this creation is the one I had been wishing nothing but bad upon. But at the same time, I couldn't help but feel a sense of respect and awe for their bravery in transforming a dull and vandalized wall into a work of art that spoke to the soul.

"Chandler?" My voice wavered, sounding more like a plea than a yell.

Silence answered me, except for the sound of my own breathing and the beating of my heart. I tore my eyes away from the mesmerizing art, scanning my surroundings for any sign of my friend.

"Chandler, where are you?" I called out again, my voice echoing off the walls.

No response.

My eyes flickered back to the colorful wall, taking in every detail once again, when a voice spoke up from behind me, laced with pure cockiness.

"Do you still want to sue me?" My heart stopped as I realized that the voice did not belong to Chandler.