“You didn’t need anything else?”
“No,” is my response as I stare at his rugged and worn body.
“You sure? Your feet aren’t moving.” Evan’s lips tilt the tiniest bit in a smile.
“I know.” I usually sound so sure of myself. So confident. But there’s a slight waver in my voice this morning. “I’ll let you finish getting dressed.”
“Glad I could help.” He pauses. “And thank you for asking. And for taking the time to plan things for my son. It means a lot.”
I dip my chin to my chest, descending the stairs, but I stop midway. “I’ll make sure to take lots of photos of us ziplining today, then.”
“Absolutely not.”
I release a loud laugh as I make my way downstairs, opening my notebook and taking my ballpoint pen from behind my ear, where I then place a big fat question mark next to 'ziplining'.
11: Flo
“Okay, hit me with it.” My mom claps her hands a few times to hype herself up as she slides into the kitchen chair opposite me. Her eyes are expectant, and she picks up her fork and digs into herverycrispy mushroom omelette.
“Hit you with what?” I ask, sending her a thankful smile, looking down at my own eggy mush. My mom’s not a very good cook, but she tries, and I don’t have the heart to tell her how gross this looks, even though she knows it. I mean, the woman has eyes.
“Honey, you asked to come over so suddenly, and that usually means one of two things. Either you couldn’t be bothered to cook for yourself tonight, or you have some bad news to tell me.”
A chortle escapes me. “Mom, trust me, if I couldn’t be bothered to cook, I’d just order takeout instead of coming to—”
Dagger-like eyes laser into me, followed by a belly laugh, and I stop my lips from moving. My mom knows she’s not going to be the next Gordon Ramsey, but she doesn’t liketo be reminded of how Dad was the cook in the relationship. The meals she can make consist of egg dishes, pasta, and grilled cheeses, all on a continuous loop. Most of the time, I’ll cook when we have our catch-ups.
“Florence Isabelle McKenna,” my mother’s fork drops to the plate, “did you get arrested?” She’s standing now, clutching her heart as if it’s on fire. “When’s the court date? How many days in jail are we looking at? Actually, don’t tell me. I don’t think I can handle it. What did you do?!”
“Will you sit down? You’re giving me a headache. I didn’t get arrested.”
“Fine. What is it then?”
“There’s nothingbadto tell you.”
“But there’s something?”
I blow out a puff of air. “Yeah, um, you know that six-month campervan trip I was looking all those years ago?” I play with my omelette, using my fork to squish the mushrooms and watch the excess water run out of them. Yuck.
“Yes.”
“Well, I booked it for September.” My eyes meet my mother’s, and they’re wide, shocked, but they don’t hold any dislike like I thought they might. She’s always been a supportive woman. I mean, she helped me cover all of my ex-boyfriend’s clothes in glitter and glue when he broke up with me for another girl in high school.
I was hesitant about telling her about the trip in case she thought I was abandoning her. She’s very family-orientated, and she and my father are still friends, despite their romantic relationship being over.
“Wow… that’s amazing, Flo. I didn’t know you were so serious about it.” She’s beaming, and it’s not forced. “My little baby is going travelling. Wow, okay, you’re going to need sleeping bags and travel first aid kits. I think we have some in the garage. Which state are you starting in? Canada can be cold, honey, pack loads of sweatshirts. I can get you a disposable camera too, and we can make a slideshow of all the photos you’ve taken when you get back!”
Shaking my head with a laugh, I round the table and sling an arm over my mother’s shoulder. “I love you, Mom.”
“Oh, I love you too, sweetie. This trip is going to be absolutely incredible. It’ll really help you come into your own and reconnect with yourself. I don’t know if I told you, but when I was your age, I went to—”
“Cancun, I know. It’s where you met Dad.”
“It is. Oh, maybe you’ll bump into someone along the way, fall in love! Oh my gosh, I bet you’re so excited!”
I am, but this trip isn’t about finding love. Doing this is to, like my mother said, reconnect with myself. It sounds spiritual as shit, which isn’t really me, but I could use somemetime. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I’m hoping that the experience will inspire me.
Help me find where I belong.
