I don’t consider myself beautiful by any means. I also didn’t consider myself ugly. As I sat at my mother’s vanity, I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was round, nothing like my mother’s own heart-shaped face. I do at least possess my mother’s brown curly hair and green eyes, two of my best features. My nose was my father’s, long with large nostrils. Not abnormally large, just bigger than my mother’s cute button nose. My lips are ginormous almost like I’ve been stung by a bee. I wasn’t sure but I was almost sure these lips belonged to my paternal Grandmother. I have never met the woman except once when I was seven. I remembered that Grandma Patty was angry all the time and cried a lot. Mom had always described her having “a screw loose in her caboose.” I never understood that until recently and connected it to one of the many reasons why my father left.
I sighed and played with my hair. I never knew what to do with myself when my mother went on these wild undertakings she called dates. Many times I would read, a passion of mine, but I had read all the books in my own personal library. I could practice the cello. College was only two weeks away and I had to impress at Julliard, especially with Mother being an alumnus and all. I was ready to be moving away from Maryland, but at the same time it saddened me. My life hadn’t been the best. It had been at one time, don’t get the wrong idea here-but it hadn’t turned out the way I had wanted it to. I had always planned from an early age, just like any child would, that my parents would be together forever. I had always imagined my parents as the perfect couple-Regina Duncan, the extravagant and materialistic woman with the unimaginable beauty that wooed everyone who had the privilege of seeing her and then there was Jack Duncan, the tall mysterious doctor with bright blue-green eyes and black hair that he always wore styled with gel in a very professional way. He was strong and serious yet gentle and caring all at the same time and he had always been the epitome of the perfect father to me. The one downside to Daddy was that the hospital kept him away more than most professions would keep a person away and the time I spent with him was sacred and special, but the time I had been given had been nowhere near close to enough. When he died twelve years ago, it had been the hardest on Mom, but
I didn’t show it like Mom did. I didn’t make a fool of myself- I had been good at hiding the grief, I always have been. I also had never imagined my father, the tall strong man, committing suicide. And it was all because of me. I had whined too much about not seeing him. Mom had been putting him through a brutal divorce and let’s just say she was demanding more than her half of everything and Daddy had a hard time saying no. And his job at the hospital wasn’t making him happy anymore. Ever since he had lost his family, he had lost happiness in everything. The day we moved in with my mother’s father, Granddaddy Douglas, was the day my father lost hope and when I was six, they found him in his bath tub with an empty bottle of Xanax by the toilet. My blood boiled when I thought about it. I pushed it away with all the other thoughts. I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket as I reveled in her mind about the distraction this could cause. I hit the talk button without checking to see who the caller was. This could be a mistake. I wasn’t sure, but that was the fun behind it.
“Hello?”
“Hey Ash. It’s Roger.”
I closed her eyes. This wasn’t so fun anymore. If I had just looked at the caller ID, I could have avoided Roger Thurgood completely.
“Roger, hi. Look I’m busy...”
“This won’t take long Ash I promise. I just…well, I like you a lot ya’ know? I would like to know why you turned me down for a date tomorrow night. I deserve that much, don’t I?”
No, I thought, Roger Thurgood deserves so much more than an explanation. He deserves a goddess because of the god he is. Any girl who wasn’t a lesbian was attracted to Roger. He was smart with dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes that glistened with knowledge-the kind you longed to know. He was tall and a bad kid just because he wore his hair in his face and played bass in a band. Unlike most guys I had come across, he had standards, for himself and the ones surrounding him. He was so perfect and everything I had wanted since sixth grade when he had moved to Bowie from Kissimmee, Florida. All the idiotic popular girls, you know the ones who tried so hard to fit in? Well, they would sit there and say “I wish Roger Thurgood would kiss a me.” I remembered loving it when Roger would hear it because he automatically wouldn’t consider them as a date just for being so ignorant with their little rhyme. Roger had later told me it was because if a girl couldn’t even say the place he adored more than life itself, then he couldn’t adore that girl.
“You there Ash?”
I was shaken from thoughts of pre-pubescent days. “Yes, Roger, I’m here. Look. I really like you…”
“That’s what I thought too Ashley. I thought you really liked me. I’ve always liked you from the day I laid eyes on you when I was eleven. I’ve always considered you one of my truest friends too.”
“You are Roger.” God, he was making this hard. “But…well, with me going away to Julliard in two weeks and all, my mother thinks it’s best if I don’t get serious with any boys.”
Roger scoffed. “And how many times has she left you alone on a Friday night while she dated the next movie star billionaire or whatever? She’s such a hypocrite. Plus I’m moving back home tomorrow Ash. You know that. I’ve been talking about it for weeks. I would still be with you even if you stayed up here in Bowie, Maryland.
“Maybe so, but she’s my mother and I have to respect her. And I know Roger, I’m so happy for you. But I can’t be with you.”
She heard him sigh. “I understand I guess. I want you to know to know two things before I go though. Okay?”
“Sure.” I felt my heart drop.
“Well, the first thing is I’m always here for you, whether you want to talk or whatever, don’t hesitate to call because I would drop everything for you.”
“But why?”
“Well, Ash, that leads me to my second thing I have to tell you. I would drop any situation, any girl, god even my life for you because I love you.”

I was still stunned when she got off the phone with Roger. I hadn’t heard those three words used with such passion and meaning in a long time. I really needed a distraction now and could find no way to do it. I didn’t want to practice the damn cello. I hated that piece of equipment. I had wanted to play guitar and sing but my mother had forced me into cello lessons.
“Real ladies don’t waste time learning an instrument like that. If you want to learn a real stringed instrument, then play the cello like I did when I was thirteen. And with the singing darling, well let’s say it’s like a squeaky rat. Stick to where your talents lay, honey bunch. That’s with the cello. It’s in your blood.”
Although I have a putrid hate for the instrument, I adore music. I knew that it truly flowed through my veins and I still after five years, longed to play guitar and sing. But, my mother had other plans.
“Go to Julliard dear. With your 4.0 grade point average and your impeccable talent for music, you should excel quite nicely and if you work hard enough, you could be a big shot composer or a member of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.”
“But Mom, I don’t want to. I want to start a band.”
“Ashley dear, that’s absurd. Now, I’m thinking of your future entirely and what’s best for you. If you were an artist, I would invest all my time and energy into paints and papers and everything you would need to excel. But no, your talents are in music honey and I want you to have every opportunity I had. I went to Julliard, I graduated top of my class, and I had the opportunity to audition for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, but you know what I did instead? I met a dark handsome doctor and conceived a baby and that ruined my chances of living my dreams. Now, you won’t make the same mistakes I made.”
It did no good for me to argue with her mother, so I practiced like crazy. I played the cello until my fingers bled and got acceptance into Julliard after a perfect audition and rave recommendation letters from teachers of my enduring dedication to anything and everything.
Yes, it did no good for eleven year old Ashley or sixteen year old Ashley to debate with Regina Duncan. But now I was eighteen. So why was I still listening to my mother’s every word, every beckon?
I felt sick being in her mother’s room. I had remained here in this perfumed room for an hour or so and it was really starting to get to me. I went back to the living room and returned to my trance of staring at the grandfather clock. How young I had been then. Only three when Granddaddy Douglas had hoisted me on his broad shoulders to see the clock and open the tiny door.
“One day Ashley, this will be your clock. Can I trust you with it?”
“Yes, Granddaddy Douglas, I love this clock with all my heart.”
He would ruffle my curly brown hair and pick me up one swift movement, which made me giggle hysterically and he would carry me off to the lanai where he would smoke his pack of Marlboros while we would talk. Sometimes on rare occasions, we wouldn’t talk at all and we would just look out at the beautiful grass and trees that swept the backyard and enjoy each other’s company.
I still remembered his voice, deep and happy, but only around me. I got the privilege of getting the best reactions and emotions out of him. I was his angel through the darkness he had faced with the death of his wife-my grandmother- Carolyn twelve years before I had been born.
“Your Granny Carolyn would have loved you Ashley, almost as much as I do. I love you so much sweet girl.”
I felt the tears pour down her face at this moment. I had been angry when Granddaddy Douglas was diagnosed with leukemia when I was only eight. A year later at his funeral the anger had morphed into utter depression after watching him die. I couldn’t look in the coffin because I was scared he wouldn’t be the same. During the service, I kept watching, hoping he would pop out, crack that deep smoky laugh that I loved so, and then sweep me up and carry me back home, back to our home. But he never did. After learning she had inherited her father’s home, Mom had made renovations to the house. She had replaced the soft peach carpet that I had adored so much with a hard white carpet. She had all the rooms painted and the rooms that were once soft earth tones with old fashioned furniture were now yellow and pale green and modernized. She had transformed everything. And that wasn’t the worst part for me. No, the worst part was when she refused to give me the grandfather clock Granddaddy Douglas had promised to be mine. I remembered that day like it was yesterday, when I had stood on my tip-toes, dragging the heavy mahogany clock closer to me until I heard my mother’s voice.
“Ashley Veronica Duncan, what in the world are you doing?”
I hadn’t known what I had done. “Nothing Mommy, just getting my clock down. I want it in my room.”
“Absolutely no missy. That’s not your clock. That’s my clock.”
I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. “But Mommy, Granddaddy Douglas wanted me to have it.”
Regina placed her hands on her tiny hips. “And where in his will is that exactly? In his will, it states that I am to receive this house and everything in it as his only child. So darling, when I say the clock is mine, I mean it’s mine to do with as I please.”
I have never been one to get angry, but this made everything boil. “But Momma, you changed my room completely and I just lost my best friend and I just want one thing the way I want it.”
“First, honey, Granddaddy Douglas wasn’t your friend, he was your Grandfather. You mustn’t mix the two because family can’t be friends. Family has respect and love for each other, but these bondages are different from the ones that are made with friends. And second, your room is much better now. It was too boring what with that lumpy bed with the white sheets and blankets and the boring brown walls and the old beaten dresser…”
“That was Granny Carolyn’s dresser and you sold it for an ugly pink one! And that bed wasn’t lumpy it was soft. And brown was Granddaddy Douglas’s favorite color. Mommy, that room had meaning to me and you changed it.”
“Honey, I changed it for good reason-you can’t live in the past sweetheart. Accept what life gives you and move on. Now, go to your room and read your bible. It will give you meaning”
I had gone to my ugly room, the Pepto Bismol pink room, and I had cried on my hard pink ruffled bed and I didn’t read my bible. I chucked it at the stupid pink wall.

The memories I had been experiencing today began swooshing in my head, causing my head to ache worse than it had in a long time. I didn’t want to, but I had to lie down and although Mom had the best bed in the house, I couldn’t nauseate myself more by going in there. I went to my room, still ugly and pink, and laid down. I picked up Mr. Whiskers, the teddy bear Granddaddy Douglas had bought me when I was six. He had given it to me when I had entered the School Bus Safety Contest in school and had lost when I drew a picture of a school bus driving away rapidly from three black tornadoes. I had only entered the contest because Isabella Edwards was the snootiest girl in all of Prince George’s County and I was determined to shut her up about “fantabulous artist talent” by beating her, but instead I had been made fun of and Isabella had told me my picture was the dumbest in the entire universe. I had come home in tears and while Mom was job hunting to pacify Granddaddy Douglas’ wishes, he had taken me to the store to buy me a treat after hanging my picture on the refrigerator.
“Ashley, listen to me. Your art was beautiful. But be honest with your Granddaddy here. Did you really enter the contest to draw the picture or did you do it for bad reasons?”
“I did it for the wrong reasons Granddaddy. I hate drawing. I’m not good at it like Isabella Edwards is. I’m terrible.”
“I think you did a really good job sweetheart and it was creative and different, but if you hate doing it then don’t do it. Isabella Edwards is good at art. But I bet there’s something out there that a certain Ashley Duncan is really spectacular at. All you have to do is try different things. So you’re not so good at art? Well, try other stuff. And don’t be afraid to find what you’re good at and what makes you happy. Because when you find that one special treasure, I want you to pursue it with all your heart and soul and not let anyone stand in the way of your dreams. You promise me that, don’t you baby girl? That’ll you’ll always do what you love?”
“Yes, Granddaddy, I promise.”
I sat up in bed as this memory temporarily faded. I had broken my promise to the most special person in my life. I had let one thing control my life ever since I was nine. I had let my dreams slip away. I knew what I had to do. I dug in my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed the number I knew by heart and listened to the dial tone. I didn’t have to wait long.
“Hey. Listen, can you come over tonight? I know this is short notice, but we need to talk.”

Regina Duncan came stumbling in the next day a little after noon. She had a slight hangover and her body was tingling from the exceptional night she had had with her lawyer, Mr. Lewis Owens. The house was quiet, even the ticking of the grandfather clock seemed absent, but maybe it had finally stopped working. The thing was damn old, but very expensive. Even with it dead, it would be worth a lot of money and Regina really needed a new Tiffany watch. She lurched into her room, catching herself at the foot of her bed. She stood and grunted as she sauntered as gracefully as she could over to her vanity table. She rested her head on her hand and glanced down. There sat an envelope with ‘Mother’ scrawled across it in imperfect handwriting. She was curious, for the house was quiet and Ashley never left her a note like this. She opened it anxiously and fell into shock as she read the letter her daughter had written her.

Mom,


If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not here. My room has been completely been cleaned out. All that remains is the furniture you adore so much. I have left for Florida with my new boyfriend Roger. He isn’t so new though. I have been unofficially involved with him for years, but you always disapproved of him, hating his shaggy hair or his love for Metallica and Poison, but I realized something very important tonight, Mom-this is my life. Maybe I’m making a mistake leaving so abruptly, but this feels right to me. It’s not like I don’t have plans once I’m there. See, Roger’s Uncle Tim is a music producer in Hollywood and well Mom, Roger thinks I have some real talent with my singing and his uncle is going to get me a record deal out in Hollywood, all expenses paid and everything. And I really want to try this you know? This is my dream. Julliard isn’t. The cello-well, I hate that thing Mom. And orchestras are beautiful things, they really are, and I have my own appreciation for them, but they’re not me. I feel the beats of drums and bass and guitar flowing through me. I have a desire to learn bass now after Roger let me listen to a few bass solos he has on his iPod. He’s going to teach me, but he’s going to start me off with guitar. Mom, I’m so excited. This is what I’ve always wanted and this feels so right.
Please don’t blame yourself for me doing this. I have to go because I’m an adult. I know you tried your best to raise me the right way even though we’ve butted heads one time too many-but I like to think you love me deep down. I will always be your daughter and I will always love you, despite your faults, but I need you to accept me for who I am-I’m Ashley Duncan. I love rock music and blue and purple and black. I love to get out and just let loose. I’m not too crazy, but I’m just the right kind. You may hate me for this and that’s fine-I have to be myself Mom and you have to be yourself. Please let go of these men. You don’t need them. Pick up the cello and try out for that orchestra again because you know what Mom? I’m not good at being you-you are. It’s not too late for you to have your dreams you know. I hate to sound like such a dopey psychiatrist or something, but Mom, this is the God-honest truth. I love you Mom so much and I will call you once we get to Kissimmee to let you know I’m safe.

Love,
Ashley

P.S. I took my grandfather clock. It’s mine Mom, I didn’t lie about it when I was nine and I’m not lying about it now. You have to trust me with this and my life. I need your trust as much as I need my mother.

It’s two years later now. When I got to Hollywood, Uncle Tim signed me immediately. I’ve come out with my first CD and my first hit song stayed at number one in the Top 40 Songs of the Nation for five weeks. Roger works as my agent and my bass player. He’s taught me a lot with guitar and bass, but I’m nowhere as good as he is, although I’m way better than I thought I could be. Roger and I married in October of last year and Mom came to our wedding. Now, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about her. She’s the big thing I have to talk about now. She went back to Julliard last year in the fall for her Master’s and she finished up in May. After school, she really found herself. I mean really. She had always known that she was a music lover and that the orchestra was her dream and stuff but she figured out how much of a great man Granddaddy Douglas was and she got back a lot of the stuff she sold and for her birthday in June, Roger and I renovated Granddaddy Douglas and Granny Carolyn’s home just to the way it used to be, or something like it. I even did my old room. I painted the walls brown and got a real soft bed and even though we couldn’t get back Granny Carolyn’s dresser we were able to find one precisely like it. When Mom saw the house she cried a lot and we held each other and cried together. I think I’m closer to her now than I ever was. It took her a few months to come around but once she accepted that I was right about this and this was how our life should be, well, her life turned around for the better. She’s auditioning for the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra in a few weeks and her audition piece on the cello is amazing. I know she’ll get it I have the upmost faith in her. Well, I think that’s all. I’m finally happy again and it’s the greatest feeling in the world.
Oh, and I forgot to mention that I have two little buns in the oven. Two little boys that will be named Noah Douglas and Ryan Jack Thurgood. Every day I miss my father, who would have adored the fact I was having a little boy and he would have respected Roger for helping me find myself, but more than anything I miss Granddaddy Douglas. He was there for me when Dad left us and when the hospital swallowed my father into his death, he was there. I’ll never forget either one of them and Noah will always know his grandfathers were grand men in many ways and that is why they will never really die is because I won’t let their memory fade. They will be forever living.