AGNES

Felix sings 'Christmases When You Were Mine' and he does a really good job. Except for me, it only brings back memories of the past.

A built up emotion of sorrows escorts me to my wreckage and takes away the smile on my face. While he sings, I recall the days I spent with my mother.

"That was lovely!" Yvonne cheers softly.

The others applaud them but out of the blue, I ask, "why did you dedicate that song to me?"

"It's my first celebration with you and I wanted it to be special," Felix answers.

My friends make mawkish sounds, but nothing humours me at this point.

"Agnes, why so moody? He just said he—"

"I know what he said, Yvonne!" I interrupt as I wipe a tear. "You've teased me enough for one day."

"But, how did I...? He dedicated the song to us. What is your problem?" She gets triggered and reacts.

Eventually, I sober up. "I'm sorry. I-I think I feel a bit dizzy. I want to go home." I walk out of the garage.

Outside the garage, I wait for my aunt to come take me home after she sorts out the worries I have so terribly created.

*

Aunty Cherry takes me to my room then makes me sit on the bed for a deep conversation. This could be something I need before the cachexia in my brain implodes.

"Can you tell me what happened back there? I don't understand how you became this gloomy all of a sudden."

I take a minute to break down my walls and let myself become helpless again. I've been strong for too long, but tonight, I don't feel that strong anymore. Aunty Cherry needs to see me and all my weaknesses so she can help me up because I've tried, and I am still trying, yet, one little trip and I'm back at square one. If I can possibly cry the pain away after she is done, nothing would make me happier.

"Aunty, I am just so confused. I don't know why this is happening to me." My voice wearies like it is about to clog on my misery.

"Oh, Agnes..." her voice cracks, almost crying.

"Why did I remember mom then? I thought we were done with this chapter. I thought nothing would bring me back to this state."

"You... you remembered your mother?"

"I did." I purse my lips to force tears out. "Aunt, I'm tired of this. I'm so tired of fighting with the pain of losing mom."

"Was it when Felix was singing?"

"Yes!" I blubber aggressively. "Do I always have to remember the past when I'm with Felix? He doesn't even have anything to with it!"

"What did you remember?"

"As if the song itself wasn't already depressing enough, it's the same song mom listened to on the first and last Christmas we had without my dad."

"Oh dear!" She gasp.

"Christmas has always been my favourite time of the year you know. However, that particular Christmas was the lowest point in my life. I had to see mom literally cry herself to bed listening to that song... I know mom loved dad so much, but then after they went their separate ways, I saw sides of her I never expected I'd see."

She draws nearer to smear the tears streaming down my face.

"This Christmas is supposed to be special, then tell me why it is so difficult to move on! Why is it so hard to enjoy special moments in my life?! Why does the past always ruin everything?"

She hugs me tightly for a minute while I cry my eyes out in her bosom. With tender rubs at the nape of my neck, I gradually feel some comfort that calms me down until I am able to listen.

"Dear niece, you're putting yourself through so much. You won't be this stressed if you had just listened to what I have always been telling you. I have told you countless times to move on, but you hold onto your past and because you won't let it go, the pain hurts all over again. How long do you plan to keep hurting?"

I don't know if that is a choice I made along the line but one thing's for certain, my resentment has everything to do with it. "If I am to let go of the past, does it imply I am supposed to forgive my father?"

She delays a bit before answering the question. "If it would cost you your peace of mind, I don't see why not."

I pull back to look up at her. The concern on her face showing so much care and sympathy – I'm about to take it off. "I can't. I simply cannot just excuse him for abandoning me when he had so many chances to make it right."

"But... but Agnes, don't you think you've hated him long enough to carry such a burden all this time?"

I withdraw my gaze to face the ground. "I guess this is why we can't have nice things. My anger towards him will never change," I sniffle. "Who knows what my friends think of me right now."

"You don't wanna talk about your father, that's fine, but don't discredit yourself. You are fun to be with."

"So what exactly is my problem?"

"You said your dad lost many chances to make it right, don't you realize you're doing the same thing? You're losing a chance to be happy."

"As if happiness doesn't seem to recognize me anymore."

"You're the only one with the capacity to make things right for yourself."

I sigh profoundly. As easy as it is to say, it is not so easy to do. Hiding this pain for several years is torture, I don't think I can endure it one more second.

"It's a choice you must make on your own," she continues, "you're Agnes Carter! Don't let your past define you."

I breathe in and out tuning down the snuffling. Talking things through indeed helped boost my confidence level. Perhaps with time, I may truly consider forgiving my dad. "Thank you, aunty," I say and give her a tight hug. She rubs my back gently. "I feel a lot better now."

"I have an idea. Maybe you should talk to Felix. Sort out this problem with him and see why he always reminds you of your past."

I force a smile. "Maybe I should do that."

"So you mustn't ruin any special moments with your friends, okay."

"I'll try."

"Sleep well, my dear." She pushes me back and plants a kiss on my forehead.

"Good night."

I watch her stand up to leave, switching off the light on her way out before I tuck myself in bed.

*

The next day, I go to the garage early and I find Felix inside looking around. I walk in unnoticed to watch him for a while.

"A nice landscape painting would fit that wall," I say behind him.

He turns abruptly to face me. "Agnes! What are you doing here?"

In the moment, I look past the fragments of his foulest intentions, and all I see are his beautiful eyes. How unfair was I that Felix could still have a perfectly good heart to do all this for me after everything?

"I'm sorry about last night. I was just—"

"It's okay," he interrupts. "Come take a look at your workshop."

I snap back from my reverie. "I'm still surprised you guys did this for me!"

"This? It's nothing really."

"Are you kidding me? This is something! Even I didn't get anyone a gift as thoughtful as this."

"We planned it anyway."

"My bet is on that afternoon aunty Cherry sent me on an errand to buy custard."

He grins widely, affirming my suspicions.

"Thank you all the same."

"So, can we start painting?"

My eyes shoot wide open. "Like right now?!"

He nods.

FELIX

I assist her with the painting materials from the smaller room inside which apparently serves as the store. After setting up the easel, she neatly places the brushes and mixes water colour on a palette.

A little while later, she wears her special apron that bears her name in embroidery at the hem.

"You are looking like a professional artist. Must be the apron giving you the artsy look."

"Don't be silly," she giggles.

I giggle too.

As she begins to disperse colours on the paper, I sit and watch her.

She truly is a beautiful soul inside out. I get lost staring at the girl that once hated me and could not stand my presence, but now she means the world to me. She changed me so much I cannot recognize who I am anymore. Lately, I just can't think of any other thing except the smile on her face and me being the reason behind it.

If this is what it feels like to fall in love, then I'm the biggest idiot for not trusting this feeling for so long. Honestly, how can a cowboy like me be responsible for someone else's heart?

She turns back, and I promptly get my thoughts together. It appears she's almost done painting the background.

"Are you going to frame it?" I ask.

"Not this one," she replies with a serious tone.

In that instant, I start to wonder why she chose not to. After a few finishing touch-ups, she sets her materials aside then adjusts a bit for me to see the whole picture.

The scene she creates has a sunsetting texture. It shows the silhouette of a man holding hands with a lady at one end, also a woman holding a child at the other. The meaning behind this art must be a sad one because I notice the woman with the child yearning in despondency for the love of the man going away with the former.

"What does this mean?" I ask.

"This is my eleven years of sadness and regrets, a real soapbox so to speak."

"Are you the child in the painting?" Of course I already know she is but I feel hearing her say it will give me a sense of restitution for last night.

"I think I should tell you the reason why I left."

My heart skips out of my chest for reasons I will never understand.

* # * #

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