Uncle Funded My Education Journey

Aylin Scott took a day off to visit Milena Gibson, while Salem had his childhood friend Francis Lawson over at his place. Salem and Francis had been thick as thieves since their sandbox days, practically growing up together. Though Francis was a regular at Salem's house, lately, Salem's attention had been more on Aylin, unintentionally neglecting his longtime buddy.

Parents usually divide their kid's friends into two camps at school: the "good" ones and the "bad" ones. The "good" friends are those who seem to excel in everything—the benchmarks parents hope their kids will aspire to. While parents wish their children would emulate them, kids often feel overshadowed. On the flip side, "bad" friends are viewed as rowdy influences, cautionary tales for worried parents. Francis was neither; while he was often mischievous, he excelled in many areas, making Salem feel challenged but thrilled to have him around.

“Hey, Salem,” Francis said, lounging on the couch, “you always seem to invite me over when your angelic sister isn’t around. What’s so bad about letting me meet her? I swear I’m harmless!”

Salem shrugged, shutting the door behind him, and tossed a slipper at Francis. "Get off your lazy bum! Mom just cleaned the couch covers, and if you mess them up, she won't scold you, but she'll definitely have a word with me!"

Francis caught the slipper, pinching his nose. “Man, your foot odor could knock out a skunk! Good thing you weren’t born into my family—our head nurse would have chased you around!”

Salem laughed and bounded over to reclaim the slipper. “Give it back!”

“Nah!”

Salem threatened to rub his foot on Francis, “You handing it over, or not?”

Francis, holding his nose, tossed the slipper back. “Take it, stink boy!”

Just then, the sound of keys turned in the door. Francis quickly sat upright, "Who is it? Your sister?"

Salem glanced at the entrance. Sure enough, Aylin walked in, kicking off her shoes and slipping into house slippers, “Aylin, weren’t you hanging out at a friend’s place? You’re back already?”

“Yeah, after dinner, Milena’s friends wanted to hit a club. Not my vibe, so I left early.” Aylin glanced briefly at Francis before she looked away.

“Aylin, meet my best bud, Francis Lawson. He’s the voice of the school radio and the literature club president. He’s got some tips for your writing!” Salem made the introductions with pride, as if Francis's accomplishments were his own.

Aylin replied with a simple "Oh," not showing much enthusiasm or warmth, catching Francis off guard. Without much interest, she turned to Salem and said, "Salem, Aunt’s working late. I’ll see what’s in the fridge and cook up something for you two." She headed to the kitchen without waiting for an answer.

"Anything’s fine!" Francis chimed in, more for effect than out of need. Once Aylin was gone, he whispered to Salem, "Wow, your sister’s something—beautiful and composed!"

Salem shot him a stern look and muttered, “I’m serious—no funny business. Go be Romeo somewhere else, but keep away from my sister!”

Though Francis didn’t fully get Salem’s vibe, his carefree nature remained undeterred. Something about Aylin fascinated him, not romantically, just pure admiration.

That evening, Aylin's simple pasta with tomatoes and eggs garnered raves from the guys, though they’d tasted better. The compliments were more habitual than heartfelt, and Aylin didn’t dwell on their typical praise.

Later, Francis dropped by Aylin's class under the guise of inviting her to join the literature club, suggesting she casually submit a piece for him to review. His presence kicked up a storm among the girls nearby, making Aylin finally believe Salem's friend was indeed popular at school. It was Aylin's essay, "A Life's Inquiry," that truly engaged Francis—not in a romantic light, but through mutual respect and empathy.

In "A Life's Inquiry," Aylin shared a mood, tranquil yet poignant, like a gentle river or a calm sea. Reading her words, Francis recognized she was different, distinct in her introspection and insights. There was an air of grace about her, like a classic painting—subtle yet significant. If there was a word for it, it would be "aloof," yet an aloofness mixed with warmth, charm, and serenity. She was anything but a typical sixteen-year-old.

He felt it was time to openly express his admiration.

On a bright day, he read Aylin's "A Life's Inquiry" over the school radio.

“You are unique, yet you seek happiness like everyone else. Happiness isn't elusive because your standards are high; it's about keeping your heart open…” he concluded.

Hearing her own words over the radio initially brought Aylin quiet joy—unspoken yet profound. But as Francis finished speaking, tears streamed down her face—not from sorrow or relief, but pure understanding. There exists a kind of dialogue beyond words, found only when one writes and another truly listens.

“Hey, the handsome guy is back!” Milena Gibson teased Aylin playfully, “Wow, you’re moved to tears! Our star writer skipped two math classes for this. No surprise you’re emotional!” Milena teased Aylin, hoping it would help her face the waiting boy with more poise. Milena wished Aylin would find love, believing it might fill the void in her life.

Aylin chuckled, “Enough already! Quit teasing!”

“Hold it together, no tears! Not yet, anyway!” Milena made a reassuring gesture.

Aylin gently nudged Milena aside and approached Francis with an open heart, brimming with joy. Perhaps this joy wasn’t romance yet, but in that moment, she felt it deeply.

“Thank you,” Aylin said simply, not specifying whether it was for his acknowledgment or for understanding her heart’s voice. She trusted he’d get it, even if not instantly, someday.

“No problem,” Francis managed, smiling shyly, entirely captivated by Aylin. He couldn’t muster his usual playful banter.

During breaks, they’d stroll together—a silent pact between them. They never labeled it dating. They didn’t speak of love, and often, words weren’t needed. They walked, close or apart, leisurely circling the track. Their hearts walked too, wandering aimlessly yet joyfully.

Some things need not be said, just shared understanding.

Aylin hadn’t expected Kayleigh Myers to drop by. That day, while attending a lecture, her phone vibrated in her bag. Anxious, she silenced it, worried the eccentric professor might notice. Even through his thick glasses, a glance from him was unnerving. Once class ended, she called her mom back.

"Mom, is everything okay? I was in class."

Unexpectedly, Kayleigh sounded ecstatic. "Aylin, guess where I am right now?"

Aylin, perceptive as ever, knew her mom must be somewhere different. "London? Or New York?"

"Right on! I’m at the Marriott by your school!"

"Seriously?!" Aylin felt a thrill. A luxury hotel! But she calmed herself, "Did you come with Uncle Dan for a business trip?"

"Nope, just me. I’m here to see you," Kayleigh answered confidently, sensing her daughter’s thoughts.

The response warmed Aylin's heart. With her guard down, she exclaimed, "Send me your room number. I’ll pop by after dropping off my books!"

As Aylin stepped through the hotel’s revolving doors, she savored the feeling. The staff's looks weren’t particularly friendly, but she understood. How often did students like her walk into such grand places?

The hotel radiated luxury. No wonder her mother trailed Uncle Dan eagerly; who wouldn’t yield to such comfort? But reflecting on her father’s imprisonment brought sadness. It wasn’t her mom’s fault but that woman, Lulu’s. So there was no need to measure her mom’s happiness against her dad’s downfall. Aylin tried to smile at her mom, embracing her warmly.

"Mom, why didn’t you mention you were coming sooner?" Aylin playfully rebuked, wrapping herself around Kayleigh.

"I missed you, sweetie. I missed hugging my precious big girl," Kayleigh said, kissing Aylin’s forehead tenderly.

That night, they nestled together, lost in nostalgia. After nine long years, Aylin felt truly at home in her mother’s arms, relishing the love she'd yearned for. It was overwhelming, and amidst this sweetness, she lost track of its taste. Was there bitterness too? No matter, it was all she’d sought through childhood and adolescence, and now it filled her heart.

Kayleigh, too, recounted Aylin's early years—from her first cries to her first steps, first words, and first writing, down to every illness and doctor's visit, memories etched in vivid detail.

Aylin chuckled at her mom's storytelling, "Seriously, Mom?"

"Did I really grow up that slow?"

"Hey, Mom, see? I’ve got your widow’s peak!"

As they laughed, Aylin suddenly felt a pang of sadness. They’d missed so much time together. Her mom hadn’t forgotten her at all. When a mother remembers every little detail of your past, it’s not a miracle—it’s maternal love.

“Oh, you silly girl, why the tears suddenly?” Kayleigh pulled Aylin close, "Sweetheart, you’re grown up now; take care and don’t cry so easily." As she spoke, her own tears started to fall.

Aylin giggled, “Well, I see where I get it—I’m clearly your daughter. Can Uncle Dan and Rohan handle you?”

“You cheeky…” Kayleigh laughed.

“Mom, you should live happily with them. I mean it. Your happiness is paramount. Besides, my little brother—he’s family too, isn’t he?”

“Of course!”

“Please don’t dislike Dad, okay? Mom,” Aylin looked at her, "Things are in the past now. Dad’s not a bad guy. He grew up without a dad and under Grandma's wing. That’s why he seems rebellious, trying to be seen. Look, even you fell for him! Sometimes I feel that way too, wanting to stand out because you weren’t there, yet not wanting to vanish, just wanting to be special."

"My daughter’s nothing like him!" Kayleigh teased.

“Alright, Mom, I know about Lulu. But Dad’s really changed. The other day she came to see him, but he didn’t meet her. Dad’s different now, he’s made…” Aylin paused, realizing she’d revealed too much, sticking out her tongue playfully before continuing.

Kayleigh smiled, "I believe you."

Whether she truly believed didn’t matter much now. That time, those people, seemed like another life. She didn’t want to hate anymore; she no longer had the energy. Yet, her kind-hearted daughter, bearing so much at a young age, didn’t hold resentment. The question stayed in Kayleigh’s heart, knowing the answer. No more trust issues remained, she thought quietly.

"Mom, in this life," yes, this life nearing its twilight, "Mom never meant to hurt anyone, but that’s easier said than done. I've let you down the most. I haven’t been the mother you deserved. You don’t blame me, but I can’t help feeling guilty. And Raiden and Milan have treated you like their own; I'm so thankful, but never got to thank them. Then there's your grandparents—they're aging, and I can’t be with them..."

“Mom?!” Aylin looked at Kayleigh in surprise. Her words weren’t just sad; they filled Aylin with a foreboding.

Kayleigh realized she’d worried her daughter, so with a relaxed smile, she said, “Look at me, I’m leaving tomorrow, getting all sentimental.”

“Don’t be gloomy! You can always visit, or I can come during breaks to see you and my little brother!”

Kayleigh gently rubbed her stomach, silently pondering how many "futures" were left, "Aylin, if someday I’m not around, when you meet Rohan and the baby, I hope you can be sisters."

Aylin laughed, “Mom’s turning sentimental, see! Another tear! Quit talking morbidly. You’ll live long and happy, and we’ll stick to you like glue!”

Watching her mother tenderly touch her belly, Aylin thought deeply. Nineteen years ago, her mom must’ve stroked her belly with similar joy. For the first time, Aylin truly comprehended her mother's journey. Her life was tough, yet she lived fully because she loved everyone. Her kindness wasn’t weakness; her gentleness masked strength; her mother was indeed a woman with profound understanding of life, wisdom, and insight.