Better

by Carey Heywood

  My mom starts to say something but stops. My dad reaches out to hold her hand across the table.

  “This trip is about growing up. Sometimes, in life, you will be forced to deal with people you dislike. Part of being a mature, independent grown-up is learning to be diplomatic.”

  As long as I live at home, I know he’ll never see me as anything other than his little girl. As excited as I am about exploring new places, I also plan to figure out what I’m going to do once it’s over. I know my parents won’t like the idea, but once I’m back, I plan to move out. This trip will give me time to decide in what direction I plan to go.

  Right now, I’m not sure whether I should go back to school or try to get a job. Nothing glamorous. Maybe I could waitress or be a nanny.

  When I was in high school, I thought I wanted to be a doctor. I’ve heard stories about people who go on to medical school after being sick themselves or taking care of a sick loved one. Watching Ally had the opposite effect on me. I want nothing to do with anything remotely related to the medical field

  After six years of part-time community college, I still don’t have my degree. If I go back to school, I’ll have to pick a major, which is kind of hard to do since I’m not sure what direction I want to go in.

  I realize my parents are waiting for me to respond. “So, when should I call him?”

  My dad’s face breaks out into a wide grin. “Tomorrow should be good. It’s probably too late tonight with the time difference.”

  After dinner, I hang back in the kitchen to rinse our plates and load the dishwasher. My parents go into the living room. Once I’m finished, I go to join them. I pause just outside the doorway when I hear them talking. I lean against the wall and listen.

  “I’m worried about her,” my mom says quietly.

  “Aubrey will be fine. It’s you I’m worried about. Have you thought about it?”

  I hear her sigh.

  “Do you really think it’s necessary?”

  “I do.”

  I wonder what they’re talking about. I lean closer to the doorway and cringe when the floorboards beneath me let out a loud creak. Knowing they had to have heard that, I walk into the room and sit down, trying my best to look innocent.

  They drop whatever they were talking about once I’m in the room. They talk about my dad’s job while I flip through a travel magazine. Ever since Ally’s letter was read, our house has been buried in them. Most of them come out only once a month. How my mom has acquired so many, I’ll never know. I read an article about extreme travelers who hike and camp.

  Cringing, I look over at my mom and dad. “This Adam guy won’t want to camp, will he? I was hoping to stay in hotels.”

  My dad gives me a funny look before laughing. “You won’t have to camp, honey.”

  I’m not sure why my question is so funny. Is he implying that I can’t camp? I can camp, I think. I even briefly considered backpacking on this trip until I remembered I prefer air conditioning, soft mattresses, and hot showers to the great outdoors. It’s just good to know the plan of staying in hotels isn’t changing now that this guy will be with me.

  I go back to the article I was reading. There are so many things to consider when traveling overseas. Laundry is one of them. I keep seeing ads for quick-dry underwear that you hand-wash versus finding a Laundromat. It might be a good idea to purchase some. I’ll just wait until my dad is not around to talk about it.

  I need to figure out what clothes to pack that will be good for the whole trip. Depending on weather, we will spend the first part of our travels north of the equator, and we will move south just in time for the summer down there.

  I read until the words start to get blurry, and then I head to bed. After I’ve brushed my teeth and washed my face, I’m not as tired as I was downstairs.

  I turn on my laptop, so I can Google Adam. His name is fairly common. It’s a mistake to click on images. There’s a comedian, a few guys in the military, and a bunch of mug shots.

  I hope that he isn’t any of those before I add photographer to the search field. A Twitter handle pops up. I don’t personally tweet, but the link takes me to a profile page that I think might be his. His profile picture is not a close-up, and it’s him holding a camera in front of his face. Clever.

  I shut down my laptop. I figure I can try to Internet-stalk him another day.

  Why am I so nervous?

  I hear the ringing in my ear as I look over at my dad. He’s sitting at his desk. My mom is sitting on the sofa next to me.

  “Hello?”

  I gulp. “Hi. May I please speak with Adam Burke?”

  “I’m Adam.”

  I pause.

  He says, “Hello?”

  “I’m Aubrey Kline. My dad thought it’d be a good idea for us to talk.” I cringe as I say each word, not understanding why I feel so awkward.

  “Okay.”

  He sounds bored, and now that I’m actually on the phone with him, I have no idea what to say. I roll the side of my bottom lip between my teeth and rub my tongue back and forth across it as I shrug at my parents.

  After a long, uncomfortable pause, he says, “Is there anything you wanted to talk about, Aubrey?”

  “Um…” It’s like my brain is empty—well, not entirely empty. I suddenly have a Lady Gaga song that I don’t like stuck in my head. I can’t talk about that.

  I panic and hand the phone to my mom before dropping my head in my hands. What is wrong with me?

  “Hi, Adam,” she says brightly. “This is Claire Kline, Aubrey’s mom. She, um…had to run.”

  I close my eyes. I had to run? Run where? Not a great way to show my parents how mature I am. I don’t even want to think about what Adam is thinking of this call. I tilt my head to look at my mom. She doesn’t talk long, and she sets the phone in her lap when she’s done.

  “What was that about, Aubrey?”

  “I don’t know. I got nervous and froze,” I groan.

  She rubs my back. “He seemed like a nice young man. You have no reason to be nervous, hon.”

  We both look over at my dad, who is trying hard not to laugh.

  “Not cool, Dad,” I grumble.

  My mom and dad just look at each other before they both start laughing.

  “It wasn’t that funny.” I cross my arms over my chest and sink back into the couch.

  “I’m not laughing,” my mom argues despite that she is in fact laughing.

  “Right.” I glare at her. “If I’m socially awkward, I only have you two to blame, so keep on laughing.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.” My dad coughs and swallows any lingering laughs.

  “Why do you think you froze?” My mom leans her shoulder against mine.

  I shake my head and look up at the ceiling. “I wanted to make a good impression, and then I just got nervous and couldn’t think of anything to say. He has to think I’m mental.”

  “Maybe he just thinks you were busy.”

  I give her a look. “Busy enough to call him and then not talk? Yeah, that makes sense.”

  “Or,” my dad interrupts, “he will think what I have known for some time. Women are crazy.”

  “Drew,” My mom exclaims.

  “Tell me I’m wrong.” He smirks.

  My mom and I look at each other and shrug. It’s hard to argue.

  “Not like you’re sane.” She huffs.

  He stands and walks over to kiss her forehead. “Never said I was.”

  I get up and head toward the kitchen, preferring not to be around them when they’re acting mushy. I grab an apple and go out to the backyard to eat it.

  My travel papers arrived in the mail yesterday.

  My dad has been emailing back and forth with Adam about booking flights and hotels. I’ll be flying to New York in two days. I’m staying that night at Adam’s apartment. Then, we’re flying out to London the next morning.

  My bags are basically packed. I have one giant rolling suitcase and a solar backpack. My
mom has gone a bit overboard with catalog shopping. I have quick-dry underwear, a handheld water purifier, a plug adapter, a baggage scale, and any other random gadget that will supposedly make traveling easier.

  My dad also upgraded my cell phone to an international plan and loaded a bunch of travel apps on it.

  There’s only one thing I care about in my luggage—a small wooden box with Celtic carvings on the sides. A smaller plastic container fits inside it. Inside that container are Ally’s ashes. This will always be her trip, and I need her with me.

  My mom cried when I asked if I could have some of her ashes. My dad, ever the planner, logged on to our airline’s website to make sure it was legal to fly with them. Once he was able to confirm it was, my mom ordered the box to hold them.

  For me, the only thing that matters on this trip is that Ally makes it to the places she dreamed of.

  Now that most of the trip plans are done, my mom and dad have more time to themselves. My dad is cutting back his hours at work. Before Ally got sick, he was looking forward to retiring. Full retirement is on hold for now because their finances took a hit from taking care of Ally. Part of me feels guilty for spending money on this trip, but my parents refused to take any of Ally’s insurance money.

  My mom is volunteering at a local animal shelter. My dad gets nervous every time she mentions bringing a puppy home. It’s only a matter of time before she does it.

  I spend most of my time on the computer. For practice, I’ve printed out common phrases for every country we’re traveling to. I also keep checking the hotel websites and looking at pictures of the suites.

  My dad didn’t like the idea of Adam and me sharing a room, but he didn’t want me to be alone either. He settled on booking us suites or rooms with a connecting doorway for most of the trip. We won’t get any of the room numbers until we check in, so I won’t know what kind of views we’ll have until we get there.

  We aren’t staying at hotels the whole time. Adam has friends that we’ll stay with in London, and we’re staying with an old friend of my mom’s in Brazil.

  I’m excited and nervous at the same time. I can’t wait for my trip to start, but I’m afraid of the unknown. Traveling can be dangerous. My mom wouldn’t have bought me a secret wallet I can wrap around my ankle if it weren’t.

  I’ve become shy and nervous over the last few years. I wasn’t like this in high school. I wasn’t crazy popular, but I had lots of friends and a boyfriend.

  Ally’s illness changed me. I know I will never be the person I was before, but I don’t want to be who I am now either. I want to be brave. If my parents found out what I’m planning, they would probably cancel the trip. That’s why I’m careful to delete my browsing history every night.

  My mom pops her head in my doorway. “Still want to come with?”

  I look up and nod. I stand and grab my purse to follow her. I’m tagging along with her to the animal shelter today and tomorrow. I figure I’ll be doing a lot of walking during my travels, and I can practice with all of dogs that need to be walked at the shelter. This isn’t the first time I’ve gone with her. Being around the animals relaxes me.

  When we get there, she heads straight to the back office while I make my way to the kennels.

  “Hey, George,” I call out to another volunteer. “Who needs walking?”

  He passes me a leash. “Trixie and Morton are the only ones who have been on a long walk since I’ve been here.”

  It’s still early. “I’ll start with Herman.” I gesture toward a German shepherd mix. “Hi, Herman. Who’s a good boy? You are. Yes, you are,” I coo as I open his kennel.

  He jumps on me, trying to lick my face. I clip the leash to his collar, and then while his front paws are still on me, I scratch his sides. He leans into the scratch, throwing his head back. I laugh and push him down. I wave to George as Herman and I make our way behind the shelter. I grab a waste bag on the way and shove it into my pocket.

  There’s a field before a wooded area with walking trails behind the shelter. Sometimes, I’ll play Frisbee with the well-behaved dogs in the field.

  I learned the hard way that Herman is not trustworthy off the leash. I spent one afternoon chasing him through the woods. I won’t make that mistake again. He’s full of energy this morning, and he does more bouncing than walking.

  I tried to talk my mom into adopting him, but if she convinces my dad to get a dog, she wants a small one.

  It’s cool in the shade. Other than the occasional squirrel, Herman and I match each other’s pace easily.

  I take the longer trail, talking to Herman as we walk. “Are you going to miss me, buddy?”

  He just looks at me, tongue hanging out. I take that as a yes.

  “I’m going to miss you too. Before I leave tomorrow, I promise I’ll remind George that you like the long trail.”

  He isn’t paying attention. Instead, he is fully focused on smelling the post of a sign. I have to tug him to get him to start walking again.

  After our walk, I let him jump on me and lick me before putting him back in his kennel.

  “Is he a good dog?”

  I turn and see a woman in the doorway. She’s curiously looking at Herman.

  I gulp. “He’s a great dog, just active. He loves to walk.”

  I reach my fingertips into his kennel, letting him lick them. Inside my head, I hope she won’t adopt him. I plaster a smile on my face, and I let her know that we have a room where she can hang out with any of the dogs she might be interested in. I gesture toward George, letting her know that he can help her.

  I hook the leash to a beagle and go back outside. Sampson, the beagle, is an older dog. Instead of heading into the woods, we make a wide lap around the field. He’s panting and goes straight for his water dish when we come back inside.

  Herman isn’t in his kennel. I sigh and take out the next dog. All the while, I hope that Herman will be back in his kennel when I get back. He still isn’t there though when I do come back.

  George sees me staring at his kennel. “Hey, that lady adopted him.”

  I nod. I figured as much. I force a half smile before I head out with another dog. When I get back, I get some water and hang out with my mom in the back office, so I can sit in front of a fan for a while.

  “I heard Herman got adopted.”

  I nod. “The lady seemed nice. I hope she takes good care of him.”

  Once my mom is done, we head home, and on the way, we grab some takeout for lunch. My dad is napping in the hammock in the backyard. My mom shakes his shoulder, awaking him.

  “You’re getting red.”

  He pulls her down next to him. She laughs as he kisses the side of her head. I’m happy for them. It will be good for them to have me out of their hair. I sit at the kitchen table and start eating. They walk in together a couple of minutes later.

  I snort when I see my dad. “How long were you out there?”

  He looks confused. “Not long.” He looks at my mom. “Why?”

  She looks away, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “Dad, go look in the mirror.”

  We hear his groan when he sees himself. He looks like a semi-sunburned Two-Face from Batman. He walks back into the kitchen, giving us dirty looks as we giggle.

  We don’t talk while we eat. The silence is only disturbed by an occasional giggle. After lunch, my mom and dad go upstairs, so she can put cream on his face.

  I sit in the backseat with my backpack next to me. As my dad drives to the airport, my mom looks back every few minutes, like she’s checking to make sure I’m still there. Each time she looks back, I lift my eyebrows and grin at her. They’re not sure I can do this. I’m not sure I can do this. I just can’t let them know that.

  I have a direct flight to JFK. Once my rolling case is checked, my mom and dad walk with me to the line for security.

  “Call us once you’ve landed,” my mom says, pulling me into a hug.

  “I will,” I murmur into her neck
.

  My dad pulls me into his arms next. “Have fun, sweetie. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Just be safe.”

  I nod, not wanting to cry. I’m twenty-four. I should be able to say good-bye to my parents at an airport without tearing up.

  As I weave my way through the rope maze, my parents stay and watch me. My dad’s arm is casually slung around my mom’s shoulders. She leans into him. When I get to the front of the line, I look back to blow them a kiss and give a final wave. They wave back, and I can tell my mom is crying. I square my shoulders and don’t look back again. That way, they won’t see that I’m crying.

  Once I’m past security, I find a restroom, so I can wash my face. My flight will start boarding in forty-five minutes. I find an end seat at my gate and sink into it, tucking my backpack under my legs in front of me. I have a book, but I’m too nervous to read it. Instead, I people-watch.

  There’s a family of five—a mom, a dad, two boys, and a girl—in the seats facing mine. I envy the kids. I always wanted a brother or a sister when I was growing up. I guess that’s why Ally filled that older sister void for me.

  There’s also a group of older women. It’s not hard to figure out their plans. They have matching handmade T-shirts with puffy paint, letting everyone know they are Broadway bound. They’re a loud group, laughing and joking with each other and anyone sitting near them. They lift my mood, and I can’t help but smile at their antics.

  As soon as I’m on the plane, that feeling is gone. I’m on my way to meet the stranger who I’m going to travel around the world with. A stranger who I have not even managed to have an actual conversation with. I know it shouldn’t matter, but I’m worried about making a good first impression and what he’s like. I have no interest in traveling with someone I can’t get along with.

  I have a direct flight, and I watch a movie on the way. Before I know it, we’re descending. I have a window, and I am basically trapped until the people sitting next to me have gotten their things and are in the aisle.

  Once I’m off the plane, I call my mom to let her know I’ve landed. She has bad news for me. Adam had something come up, and he will not be picking me up from the airport. She’s going to text me his address, so I can take a cab to his apartment instead. He’s going to leave a key with a neighbor for me. Awesome…or the opposite.