"Good morning! This is Patricia Joni Smith. I'd like to speak to Ms. Jennifer, please. She left a message on my voicemail asking for me to return her call." I could hear my voice trembled in anticipation of the news that I was praying for.
"Oh, hello Ms. Smith. Yes, I called to tell you that we have chosen you for the exchange student program. You will report to the George York University in September. I am also glad to inform you that we have found a benefactor who will sponsor for all your expenses in the duration of the program, meal allowance and dormitory accommodation included."
"That's really a great news you got there, Ms. Jennifer! I am so happy to hear it from you! Thank you for all your help!"
"No worries, Ms. Smith. I shall see you soon. If you got any further questions, feel free to call me anytime!"
"For sure! Thank you again and have a good day, Ms. Jennifer!" Upon putting down the phone, I felt like I want to leap for joy. It sounded like the giant doors of heaven had opened before me and angels were singing 'Hallelujah!'
"Mom! Dad! I got it!" I ran to the kitchen where my dad was peeling some potatoes for the salad that he's making for dinner. And we jumped in jubilation.
"Oh, I am so happy for you Joni, honey!" My mom on her high pitch came rushing to hug me from the small terrace where she had been talking to her flowering plants all afternoon.
Uhm, by the way, let me warn you. Talking to flowers and cows is normal in our home. My small family is full of comedy, day in and day out. First off, my mom calls me Joni, taken from her name Joniora, pronounced as Hon-yo-ra with the mexican accent. Thank goodness she pronounces my name with the English alphabet J. Otherwise, it would sound weird. My dad, on the other hand, calls me Tricia. He gave me my first name after his own name Patrick. And there goes the everyday confusion I have been battling with since I was a kid. But I like being called Tricia more. Of course, I don't tell that to my mom to avoid chaos in the house.
In the midst of our rejoicing, my mom just started wailing. Oh-My-Gosh! Here we go again!
"C'mon Jon (Hon)! You won't spoil our daughter's happy moment, will you? It's not like she's going to get married and leave for good!" Dad gave mom a pat on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. Actually, mom's crying can get really annoying. Mom is always the emotional, dramatic one in the family. She cries over shallow things, tv series, a news, a McDonad's ad, name it, she'll cry over anything and everything! I remember she once wept when a neighbor's pet had died. The pet is a piranha, by the way. They got it from the river 2 days before its natural death. If you must know.
Well, I guess, I could not really blame her. I am their only child. Mom and Dad had me when they were in their mid 20's. My dad waited for ages for my mom to give him her 'Yes'. You see, my mom came from a very conservative family in the small town of Nuevo Dia in Mexico. My dad saw her when mom's family visited a relative here in Farmville, Texas. We have a little farm where dad tends the cows and talks to them every day. Mom on the other hand, takes care of our small garden (and sings to the flowers and vegetables too!). We live a pretty simple yet decent life.
Growing up with my parents around has given me a sense of comfort knowing that they are always there for me. My dad would drop me off to school everyday at the nearby town. At 17, mom would still go up to my bedroom in the attic to kiss me goodnight. I could imagine how much different living on my own in a big city will be for me. It's like a clownfish pet had been taken out from a tank and placed on the big ocean. At least, I am not a piranha. But whatever!
"Honey, your dad and I have something to give you. We hope you'd bring this with you to Canada." She handed me a big gift bag. I pulled out the thing inside and out I saw Chep, my childhood stuffed toy dressed on a newly crocheted top. I pretended to be surprised. 'Ahh.. O.K. at least I got something from home with me.'
"Thanks Mom. Thanks Dad! I will be back in 6 months. Mom, promise me you won't cry everyday. I will call you on the weekends, O.K.?"
"Tricia, sweetheart, please do not open yourself to boys yet." Hmm, by the sound of it, dad is like reminding me to be a celibate until I get married. They always tell me that. I was raised to have conservative values.
I gave my folks a long embrace then off I went inside the departure area.
I know it's going to be a tough adjustment for me but I could only hope this will get me closer to my dreams.
Feeling ecstatic and anxious at the same time, I looked through the window to get a last glimpse of Texas. I will surely miss my hometown.
"Hi. Is this your bag here?"
"Oh, I'm sorry." I hurriedly pulled my backpack and placed it underneath the seat in front of me.
"No worries. Thanks!" A guy on black suit made his way to the seat next to mine.
The flight attendant came by and asked me to straighten up my seat before we take off.
"Here, let me help you." The kind guy must have noticed my panic. He moved closer, his arms almost wrapped around me, reaching for the lock of my seat belt.
"Thank you. It's my first time on a plane." I blushed.
He smiled but I could see he was suppressing his laughter.
"There you go. I am Allen, by the way." He extended his right hand and shook mine.
"It's Tricia. Nice meeting you, Allen." I shyly curved a smile. I could tell this young man is from the city. The suit is really nice on him. Sharp-looking, well-fitted. His sleek hair neatly held in place by a hair gel of sort. He sure has got a fine sense in fashion. Something that I do not often see in Farmville, really. Not to mention that he looks charming for a seat mate.
Damn it. Hello temptations! Yikes! I can do this!
This is a Joint Photo Prompt Project of Dee and myself.
Feel free to join us by posting the same photo that we will feature
every second Monday of the month.
You can write about anything
using your Creative Ideas.
