Silk

by Heidi McLaughlin

  He pulls one of the kitchen chairs out and sits, putting his elbow on the table and resting his chin on it. “I wonder if it was a mistake, letting you stay here instead of going to Yale.”

  I start to interrupt him, but he shakes his hand to stop me.

  “It’s just that you probably would have been done with school and living on your own by now.”

  My jaw drops. “Do you not want me living here?”

  He shakes his head. “No, sweetie. I just feel like we robbed you of your independence. That the only reason you’re so unsure of what you want is because we held you back.”

  “There’s no way I would have gone away to school even if you guys wanted me to.”

  He shrugs.

  I get what he’s saying though. How can I know what I want out of life if I haven’t lived?

  My senior year of high school, I thought I had it all. I had a boyfriend. I was going to Yale. It’s six years later. I have an associate’s degree in computer science. I haven’t dated. I still live at home.

  Mike, the guy I dated in high school, is married now. I think his wife is even already expecting. Stuff like that makes me stay away from Facebook.

  I feel like I don’t fit in with the people who used to be my friends. They’re either partying or settling down. There doesn’t seem to be an in-between, and right now, I don’t fit into either category.

  Chapter 4

  Mr. Clark, the attorney handling Ally’s estate, is here to read her will.

  I talked to my dad about it earlier. He thinks it’s just a formality. Ally didn’t have any tangible assets toward the end.

  We’re all in the living room, my mom and dad on the sofa. I sit in one of the armchairs while Mr. Clark stands by my dad’s desk.

  He clears his throat to get our attention. “I’m here today to read the will of Allison Chanthom. She asked that Drew, Claire, and Aubrey Kline be here for the reading.” He glances at each of us as he says our names.

  “Ms. Chanthom requests that all her earthly possessions go to her elder sister, Claire, and Claire’s husband, Drew.”

  My dad starts to stand to thank him for coming out. Mr. Clark holds up his finger to stop him.

  He lifts another piece of paper off the desk and continues to read, “To her niece, Aubrey Kline, Ms. Chanthom leaves the proceeds of this life insurance policy. The policy is valued at fifty thousand dollars.”

  My mouth drops. She did what?

  He sets the page back down and pauses. “It is her intention that these assets be utilized to fund a trip for Ms. Kline to go to the locations on her When I Get Better board.”

  I sit there, shell-shocked, as my mom and dad both stand to read the will themselves. I half listen as Mr. Clark presents a letter my aunt wrote to my mom and my dad. My dad reads it out loud to my mom.

  “She wants Aubrey to go by herself?” my mom asks.

  “She just doesn’t want either of us to go with her.” My dad glances over at me.

  “Why?” My mom pulls the letter closer, so she can see.

  “Something about gaining independence.”

  Mr. Clark is behind them, collecting his things. He leaves some forms for my parents and me before excusing himself.

  I don’t envy his job, I think as I hear him close the front door.

  I’m still trying to process the news—a trip, her trip. Ally wants me to take her trip. I’ve never been out of the country, let alone around the world.

  I look at my parents. Their heads are together as they read and reread her letter. I picture the Better board, still upstairs in her room. I don’t need to see it to remember the pictures on it. They’re etched into my memory.

  I ask to see her letter when it looks as though my parents are done with it. My dad looks at my mom, waiting for her to nod her head, before he gives it to me. It’s handwritten on simple white paper. There are no lines, and I’m struck by how level each row is. I wonder when she wrote it, and I flip it over to look for a date before I start reading. She wrote it only six months ago, while we were trying to get her approved for that clinical trial.

  “Do they sell life insurance to people with cancer?” I ask.

  My dad flips through the pages Mr. Clark left on his desk before he finds the life insurance policy. “It’s under a group plan through her work. She must have bought it before she knew.”

  I nod, looking back down at the letter. It’s weird, reading a letter written to someone else.

  Dearest Claire and Drew,

  If you are reading this letter, it means I am gone. I want to thank you for taking such good care of me. I am so lucky to have you both and Aubrey in my life. There are many times your love alone kept me going.

  I know what you all gave up to take care of me as well. I don’t have much to repay you all with. My love—please know you have my love.

  I want to try to do something for Aubrey. I have a small life insurance policy that I have named her the beneficiary of. I want her to go on my trip, the one I was supposed to take when I got better.

  There is no legal obligation. (I checked with Mr. Clark.) It is only my last wish that she do this.

  We all know how much Aubrey gave up when she stayed back to help with me. I know you both still see her as your little girl, but she’s a woman now. She needs to gain some independence away from the two of you. She needs an opportunity to grow and learn to trust herself and her choices.

  While there is nothing making her take this trip, I have one request if she does. Neither of you—I repeat, neither of you—are to go with her. Give her a chance to find herself apart from you.

  Without this, I fear she will end up living with you two forever, and I will blame myself and be forced to come back to show my displeasure. I have no desire to come back and haunt any of you. I will be much too busy flirting with James Dean.

  Please let her do this. Let her have an adventure.

  I love you both bigger than the whole wide world.

  Ally

  As I lower her letter, I feel their eyes on me. They expect a reaction, but I have nothing to give them. I don’t know how I feel about it.

  I’m not sure I want to go. I’m scared of going. And by myself? It’s a crazy idea. I wouldn’t know what to do. I’ve been on a plane but never by myself. It is exciting though—the idea of seeing the world. I’m not sure which consumes me more, the fear or the excitement.

  Besides, her letter only asks them to let me go alone. There is no guarantee either of them will let me go alone.

  My dad clears his throat, “Well?”

  I look up at my dad. “I can’t go around the world.”

  “See.” He looks at my mom and gestures toward me.

  “Drew”—she puts her hand on his forearm—”it’s what Ally wanted.”

  He walks back over to the sofa. “But—”

  “We’ll figure it out,” she interrupts. Then, she turns to me. “I think you should do this.”

  My eyes widen. “Mom…”

  ***

  I’ve spent most of the afternoon in my room, looking at Ally’s Better board. My parents are downstairs, discussing Ally’s letter. My dad thinks the idea is crazy, if not foolish. My mom only wants to fulfill Ally’s wishes. Only yesterday, I heard my mom say she wasn’t ready for me to leave, but now, she’s pushing me to.

  I’m sitting on the floor in front of my bed with my legs crossed. The Better board is propped up in front of me. There are six pictures on it—the Sydney Opera House, Victoria Falls, Cristo Redentor, the Eiffel Tower, the Great Wall of China, and lastly, a beach in the Caribbean.

  When she picked these pictures, she didn’t mean that she wanted to go to each specific place, but she wanted to travel to each region. One picture for six of the seven continents. She had no desire to visit Antarctica.

  I tilt my head, trying to picture myself in each shot. I squint. I close one eye. No matter what I try, I can’t see it. I’m not a girl who can travel around the world. I won’t go. Th
ey can’t make me. I cringe, thinking of Ally. The idea of not doing something she wanted is impossible. No matter what, I have to do this—for her.

  I go downstairs, walk up to my parents, and interrupt them. “Mom, Dad, stop.”

  They both look over at me.

  “I want to do this. It’s what Ally wanted. Does the idea of going to another country all by myself scare me? Yes, a lot, but she wouldn’t have asked me to do this if she hadn’t thought I could.”

  “I don’t like it,” my dad mumbles.

  “Dad.”

  He takes off his glasses and rubs his hand over his face. “Okay, I know she asked that your mom and I not go, but how about you travel with a companion?”

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” I groan.

  “That’s not what I’m saying. There are tours and travel guides. It might make me feel better if you were part of a group.”

  I look at my mom. She smiles, trying to reassure me.

  “I guess that would be okay.” I relent.

  I walk over to sit next to my mom on the sofa while my dad starts talking about my getting a passport and traveler’s checks.

  My mind is racing. When will I go? Where will I go? Can I actually even do this? Alone?

  When I was ten, I spent the summer with my dad’s parents in New Hampshire. I’d traveled by myself. My mom had stayed with me at the gate until I boarded the plane. It had been a direct flight to Manchester. My grandma had been waiting for me at the gate there. The experience was equally terrifying and exhilarating.

  It wasn’t the first time I had flown, but it was the first time I had flown by myself. My whole flight, I remembered being so afraid my grandma wouldn’t be there for me. I don’t know why I was so scared. I didn’t have a reason to doubt she would be there.

  My family was nothing if not punctual. Any lesson or practice I had growing up, soccer or dance, my mom or dad was on time to pick me up. Not once were they late.

  My fear of my grandma not being there was irrational. I can see that now.

  This trip will be different. There won’t be someone waiting for me, to hold my hand at each stop. I don’t want to admit it, but maybe having a travel companion is a good idea.

  I’m just not sure if that’s what Ally wanted for me or not. If she wanted me to do this by myself, I want to respect that. However, I don’t see her wanting me to be scared or alone in a foreign place either. She thought this would be good for me, and I trust her.

  ***

  Paperwork, my existence has become one form after another. There are forms to open an account in my name to deposit Ally’s life insurance into. There’s a passport application. There are temporary visas to apply for. All of this takes time, and I have to write my name, date of birth, social security number, and address over and over again.

  It will hopefully take three weeks to get my passport. I need a visa for Australia, China, and Zambia but not for Peru or France.

  Plus, I’m not sure those are the places I want to go to. Do I want to see the Great Wall of China or the hustle and bustle of Tokyo? Do I want to see the Great Barrier Reef or the Outback? Machu Picchu or Rio? I’m not sure.

  Where I will go and how long I will be at each place has so many variables to consider. Local climate and the differences in seasons south of the equator is a factor as well.

  My mom and I pour over travel guides and handbooks. Planning this trip is giving her a reason to get out of bed every day. She wants to know I will be as prepared as possible.

  My dad, when he isn’t working, researches different sightseeing tour groups. If he had it his way, I’d do the whole trip cruise-style. One dedicated bed the whole time with stops to various ports along the way. I’m not opposed to taking a cruise at some point on my trip, especially in the Caribbean, but I don’t want to do that the whole time.

  In one of the travel books, my mom and I are reading about France. It talks about scouts and how they will backpack all over in small groups. I want to try that—backpacking. I don’t know if I’d like it, but from the pictures, it looks like it could be fun. How will I ever find out what I like if I don’t try different things?

  My dad isn’t thrilled with this argument. I love him. I know he just wants to keep me safe. I wish he would relax a bit though. His anxiety is starting to wear on me. My mom is the opposite. She is full speed ahead, ready for me to go and figure it out on my own. I need them to meet somewhere in the middle and figure out a safe way for me to experience things.

  “You two are driving me crazy.”

  Their heads snap up to look at me.

  “What?” My dad lifts a brow at me.

  “This trip. You two.” I wave my finger back and forth between them.

  My mom folds her arms across her chest and leans back into the sofa. “Care to elaborate, Aubrey?”

  Why did I open my mouth? “All right, Dad is going overboard on the safety precautions, and you don’t seem to be worried at all. I would love some balance.”

  One corner of my dad’s mouth pulls up into a half grin. “So, I need to relax, and your mom needs to act more stressed. Is that right?”

  “Dad,” I groan. Then, I think about it. “Well, when you put it like that, yeah.”

  My mom rolls her eyes. “I’m just trying to be supportive.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it, but stop pointing out hang gliding and bungee jumping, please. Not going to happen.”

  My dad glares at her. “Bungee jumping?”

  She shrugs. “Ally always wanted to try it.”

  I look down. “I never knew that.”

  She gets a faraway look in her eyes. “Ally wanted it all. I used to think her dreams were crazy. She joked about going over Niagara Falls in a barrel, swimming with sharks, climbing Mt. Everest. She was fearless when she was little. She must have given me a hundred heart attacks.”

  “What did she do?” I ask, leaning forward.

  She shakes her head, laughing. “One time, she staged a girls-against-boys war in the neighborhood we grew up in. I was doing homework on our back deck. She and a bunch of kids were in the woods behind our house. She appointed herself lookout and climbed to the top of a small pine tree. She was screaming at the top of her lungs that the boys were coming, and she must have moved around too much. The top of the tree broke off, and she fell with it. She had to have hit every branch on the way down.”

  She paused to lick her lips. “I run over to check on her. The first thing out of her mouth was, ‘The boys are coming.’ I could have strangled her.”

  “Was she hurt?”

  My mom flicked her hand at the wrist. “She had a bump on the back of her head. She refused to let me put ice on it. She was so stubborn.” Her fingertips brush moisture away from the corners of her eyes.

  “Mom, don’t cry.”

  “It’s okay, sweetie. It feels nice to talk about her.”

  “I remember she didn’t think I was good enough for you.” My dad smiles.

  “She was right. You’re not.” She laughs.

  “Mom!”

  “Settle down, honey. I’m joking.”

  My dad stands and comes over to sit next to my mom on the couch. He pulls her toward him and loudly kisses her cheek.

  I look at them. His arms are wrapped around her waist. My mom is blushing, and they’re both smiling. It’s nice to see them look happy. As much as they both grieve Ally, it’s good that they still have each other.

  Other than my parents, who do I have?

  Chapter 5

  I slept in again. I can hear my dad on the phone. He sounds excited about something.

  I wave as I walk past the living room on my way to the kitchen. My mom is at the table, flipping through a travel magazine.

  “Hey, who’s Dad on the phone with?” I ask, making myself a bowl of cereal.

  Her brows come together as she thinks about it. “A coworker, I think. Don something or other.”

  “Oh.” Since I don’t know who he is, I don’t
really care anymore.

  “Look at this hotel, sweetie.” My mom pats the seat of the chair next to her.

  I set my bowl down before sliding in. I make encouraging noises as I eat, so she continues to point out different pictures from the magazine. I am nodding at the well-appointed attached bath of an Australian hotel when my dad walks in.

  My mom and I both look up at him. He’s grinning. I haven’t seen him this happy in…I’m not sure how long.

  He rubs his hands together. “Guess what?”

  Okay, I think I’ll bite. “What?”

  “I just got you a travel guide for the whole trip.”

  “Huh?” I say while my mom says, “What do you mean?”

  My mom and I look at each other before looking back at my dad, who still looks thrilled.

  “Remember Don Burke?”

  My mom nods.

  “His son, Adam, is a photographer.”

  We stare at him.

  He rolls his eyes and gestures with his hands. “A travel photographer.”

  My mouth drops. “You want me to travel around the world with some guy I’ve never met?”

  His smile drops a fraction. “He’s already been to some of the places you want to go to. He knows how to travel overseas.” He looks at his hands and then back up at me. “I thought you’d be happy.”

  Now, I’ve hurt his feelings. “Well, how old is he?”

  “Under thirty, maybe twenty-eight. I know you don’t know him, but it would make me feel so much better about this”—he gestures to the travel magazines on the table—”trip if you went with someone.”

  “But what if I don’t like him?” I cringe at how whiny I sound.

  “I’m sure he’s a nice boy.” My mom pats my arm. “I also like the idea of having someone with you.”