“I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you, too. Thank you for spending the summer with me.”
“I wanted to be here with you. You don’t have to thank me.”
Seconds later, my mom and dad burst through the door. The four of us talked until it was time for me to get on the road.
“What is that on your wrist?!” Mom exclaimed.
Aunt Addy laughed. “My new tat.”
“What are you doing getting a tattoo?” Dad asked, confused and amused at the same time. “You’re too old to be doing stuff like this!”
“And in your condition,” my mom added. She turned to me with her hands on her hips. “Did you know about this?”
I turned to better show the inside of my arm. “I sure did.”
“Oh my God!” Mom gasped dramatically. “How are you going to be able to teach with tattoos all over you? How are you going to become a principal one day?”
“She’s going to quit the school system and write books anyway,” Aunt Addy answered for me.
“What?!” Dad gasped. “Teaching is such a respectable career.”
My mom’s hands flew to her cheeks. “Jazmyn! You can’t quit this close to the school year!”
“She’s kidding.” I laughed. “But I am going to publish a book—”
“She’s almost done,” Aunt Addy interjected.
“Yes. I’m finishing it in the next few weeks. So, if on Tuesday they fire me for the small tattoo on the inside of my wrist, I have a backup plan.”
“What am I going to do with you two?” Mom fussed, pulling me into a hug. “I love you, and I just want what’s best.”
“Bye, Mom, I love you, too,” I told her, giving her a squeeze.
I hugged my dad next. “I love you. Season starts next week.”
“I know. I got the first game in my calendar.”
When I got to my aunt, we both had tears in our eyes. I bent down and hugged her silently for a moment, not wanting to break down and cry.
“I love you,” I choked out.
“I love you more,” she replied. “Remember to never stop fighting.”
Tightening our embrace, I murmured, “You either.”
Wiping the tears from my eyes, I told them all goodbye and headed outside. Monica was parking as I approached my car. I waited for her to come up the driveway, and then I gave her a hug.
“You have my number,” I told her. “If anything changes, if you think she’s about to go, call me. I will drive down here. I don’t care what time it is. Call me and let me know.”
“I will,” she assured me. “I promise.”
I gave her a wave. “Take care of her.”
“Always.”
I didn’t make it down the street before I started crying. I’d only been driving for ten minutes when my phone rang.
