“Good stuff. We’ll have to get going to the airport.”
“I’ll be ready in a couple minutes. How’s Mom?”
“A little weepy.” I can tell by his face that he didn’t want to admit it at the risk of making me feel guilty.
“Me too, if you can believe it.”
“It’s sure been nice to have you home.”
“It’s been nice to be home.” Nice. What a dull word for what we’re trying to say. Yet, somehow it works perfectly when you’re hoping to keep your emotions at arm’s length.
“It feels like we finally got our daughter back this trip.” His eyes glisten and he clears his throat. “Anyway, I’m really proud of you, Abby. I hope you know that. Not just your writing or saving that girl, but how you’ve managed to pick up the pieces this past year.”
I walk over and wrap my arms around him, resting my cheek against his shoulder, and he hugs me back, the two of us trying to pack years’ worth of hugs into this one. I’ll always feel small and safe here, no matter how old I get.
He kisses me on the cheek and his voice cracks when he says, “I missed you, kiddo.”
* * *
Apparently, I have an entourage to see me off. Chad, Tammy, and the kids showed up at the airport just after I checked in. The sight of them caused me to burst into tears, but lucky for me, Chad was quick to mock me, and I managed to pull it together before things got too out of hand.
Now we’re sitting in the cafeteria at two tables that have been pushed together. Thankfully, the children are holding up the conversation for everyone as we sip our coffee and try to hold it together. My heart aches at the notion that I’ll be so far away from them again and, depending on how long it takes to sell the house and find my way back home, the kids will have grown and changed by the time I return. I try to drink in my last few minutes with them, hoping to remember everything about this moment and telling myself I need to call them more often.
I look at my watch and sigh. “I better go.”
We stand, our chairs scraping the tile floor. Chad collects the empty cups onto a tray and hands it to Christopher to dispose of, then we move the tables back into place. Soon there is no evidence of my little surprise party. I turn and walk out of the cafeteria, unable to bear the thought that it’s already over.
When we reach the security checkpoint, I turn to them, unable to hold back my tears. “Thanks, everyone, for coming to see me off.”
I run my hand over Kaitlyn’s cheek and tell her to hang in there and that her braces will be off before she knows it.
I ruffle Graham’s hair. “Don’t go growing up on me before I get back. I like you this size.”
“Too bad. I’m gonna be taller than Dad by the time I’m ten.”
“Well, you’ll need to eat your own vegetables from now on,” I say with a sideways grin.
Christopher looks down at me. “Hey, maybe if you start eating your greens, you could grow some more.”
“Very amusing, pal!” I give him a light punch on the shoulder. “Don’t forget your transition statements when you do your next essay.”
“Or I could email all my assignments to a certain famous writer I know who loves working on persuasive essays.”
“Sure, I’d be happy to …” I pause, glancing at his parents, then back at him. “…edit them for you. Wink wink.”
Chad raises one eyebrow. “Not happening.” Turning to me, he says, “Thank God you live on the other side of the continent. I had no idea what a terrible influence you’d be.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I say, giving him an evil grin. “I’ll find a way to influence them from there.”
The next minute is filled with kisses and hugs and tears and promises to call and assurances that we’ll see each other soon. Then it’s time for me to go. My throat is thick with sadness as I wind my way through the ropes to the security checkpoint. Once I’m on the other side, I turn back to see my mom leaning her head on my dad’s shoulder, and him with his arm around her. The sight of it breaks my heart at the same time that it fills me with gratitude. I’m thankful they have each other. I’m thankful I now understand what I’ve been missing out on all these years. I’m thankful that I’ll never be alone in this world as long as I have my family.
I’m almost to my gate when my cell phone rings. It’s my mom calling. Doing my best to sound breezy, I answer with, “Miss me already?”
“Yes,” she says, her voice cracking. “But, listen, Abby, I just had to say that if you change your mind, Dad and I will both be there with you every step of the way.”
“Oh, Mom, please don’t …”
“I don’t want to upset you and I’m not suggesting you should change your mind, but you know what? There are no guarantees, you know. What if he beats it? What if you two could have a long and happy life together? Wouldn’t that be worth the risk?”
