by Maya Hughes
The cold fingers of dread that crept in when it was too quiet or I was alone sent me looking for a distraction. It was too cold to sit up on the roof. I threw my jacket on and walked the short distance to the greenhouse on campus.
Swiping my ID card, I swung open the door. The earthy scent mixed with fragrant flowers and a watery spray filled my lungs. The tightness in my muscles ebbed away.
One of the other seniors stood beside the potting bench.
“Hey, Heath,” Felix called out and pushed his glasses up with the back of his gloved hands.
“Hey. What’s up?” I walked along a row of flowering plants.
“Nothing much, planting some new foxglove before the semester starts. What about you?”
“Needed to check on my newest growth.” I grabbed my gloves and notebook from my shelf in the back.
“They were looking good last I looked.” Felix dropped some more soil into a terracotta pot.
My ears perked up. Working over the summer, I’d had a slew of unsuccessful attempts at a flowering plant crossbreed. Declan thought I was crazy to even go for this major, but I’d always loved watching things grow. Helping them along on their journey to something that could feed you, help or heal you, or give someone a smile with a flower; and if you were really good, it could do more than one of those things.
“Why are you here so late? I figured you’d be out on a hot date or something?”
“Nah, I’m not into dating during the season. Too much of a distraction.” I stepped in front of my plants. They were doing exactly as he’d said. The purples and pinks melded together with some sunset yellows. Unusual for sure, but no less stunning.
After checking on some of the other pots, I took off my gloves and jotted down some notes.
“I’m heading out, Heath. Have a good one, and I’m glad to see you guys killing it this season.” Felix tugged on his hat with flaps covering his ears.
“Thanks, man. That’s what happens when you have the most kick-ass captain in the division cracking the whip.” I let out a chuckle. “Where are you off to?”
“Hot date!” Felix shrugged with his hands wrapped around his messenger bag strap. “What can I say? The ladies can’t keep their hands off me.” He backed away, tugging at his multicolored wool sweater.
“Have fun! Not too much fun!” I called out as he walked past the rows of other plants. Felix was a good guy. We’d been in the program together since we’d declared our majors back at the end of sophomore year, and he’d never treated me like a dumb jock.
“You know me, man. I’m a wild animal!” he yelled. The door closed behind him, and I laughed, finishing up with my notes and putting everything back in its place.
Leaving the greenhouse, I was still restless, which meant TV time. Nothing like some mind-numbingly familiar scenes to push uneasy thoughts aside.
In a few months, I’d probably be playing in the NHL after years of hard work and dedication, but right now I needed a little ’80s movie therapy. I flicked the channel, and like the universe knew exactly what I needed, the movie I’d watched a hundred times filled the screen. Saturday detention. A library. Judd Nelson and Molly Ringwald. Hell yeah, The Breakfast Club.
2
Kara
Like a twenty-pound weight had been lifted off my chest, I walked down the street to the house after my exam. The freezing December air whipped around me, and I stared up at the sky. It smelled like snow. The icy patches on the ground were dotted with slushy brown piles of no-longer snow. We were supposed to get another dusting soon. I hoped it would cover the sad piles.
Some people were putting their decorations up outside even though the holiday was almost upon us. Christmas time was always so magical, and I loved it when everything stayed up at least until New Years.
Every single question on the exam had been a piece of cake. It should have been after how long I’d studied. I’d missed out on our annual family baking extravaganza to lock myself away in my room and make sure I did well on the exam that determined whether I’d be eligible for the fellowship to fund my PhD.
The exam gods had smiled down on me. There was a small part of me that worried I’d made a mistake. Was it really that easy? Had Stevenson gotten sloppy and lobbed us a meatball? I whipped out my phone and sent a group text.
Me: Was it me or was that exam kind of easy?
Charles: You.
Anne: You!
Sam: YOU!
I cringed. I’d left a little early, so I hadn’t gotten to do the post-exam recap with everyone else.
Me: Okay, sorry!
Sam: If you didn’t have such a kind heart and I didn’t know for a fact that you studied about twenty-five hours a day, I’d really hate you right now.
Me: Sorry. It wasn’t easy, it really sucked, and I hope I passed.
Sam: Don’t worry, we’ll drink away our sorrows in the bar car of the train.
Wincing, I opened the front door to the house. Asking if an exam was too easy wasn’t how to make and keep friends. Note to self, don’t bring up ease of an exam until you’ve polled at least two other people who’ve taken it. At least I could finally relax. My exam in the spring semester wouldn’t be too much harder, and I had months before that one. The fellowship committee would have made their decision by then. Maybe, just maybe, I could take my foot off the gas a little.
I headed upstairs to my room. My footsteps were nearly silent, sinking into the plush carpet.
“How’d it go?”
The booming, happy voice made me jump.
I stopped short and backtracked to the office doorway. Dad sat in his ergonomic chair with the big computer screens in front of him. I wrapped my hands around the strap of my bag and bounced on the balls of my feet.
“It went really well. I knew every answer she was looking for, and I finished a little early. But I’m worried I might have screwed up and missed something. It seemed too easy.”
Dad stood and leaned against the other side of the doorway.
“When are you going to have a little confidence in yourself? I have no doubt in my mind that you did a great job, Kara.” He tapped me on the tip of my nose like he’d done since the first day I’d arrived. The little boop when he crouched down in front of me when I stood in the doorway with my death grip on my bag of clothes had been the first thing to make me smile in a long time. Still worked now.
I glanced down at my shoes and picked at my thumbnail. “You’re right. I’m sure I did a great job.” I smiled, and Dad wrapped his arms around me for a big, warm hug.
“One of these days you’ll say it like you mean it. There was some mail for you, and I put it on your desk.” He let me go, and the front door banged open.
“Looks like your mom and sister are home. Better go run and hide or they’ll catch you.” He grinned, and I laughed before snapping my lips shut and glancing at the two of them bringing in mountains of empty cookie tins. Dad and I exchanged looks.
“Run for your life,” he whispered. I tiptoed down the hallway and made it to my room right at the soft click of his office door closing. Gently closing mine behind me, I rested my head against the white wood. Hiding out in here wouldn’t work for long. Once Mom and Lauren knew I was home and my big exam over with, they’d be all over me to help. Last year I was finding bits of cookie dough and sprinkles in my bed until January.
It was times like these I wished I’d gotten an apartment close to campus like most twenty-three-year-old college graduates. But standing at my door and taking stock of my room, I knew it was mostly a lie. I loved being home. Loved my room and my family. It was my chance to soak up everything I’d missed out on for most of my childhood.
Sometimes they coddled me and wanted to do silly family things, and while some people chafed at that, I reveled in it. The protective parent shtick was a hell of a lot better than I don’t give a shit about you. I dropped my bag and spotted the envelopes on my desk.
Grabbing the stack, I plopped down on my bed and riffled thr
ough them. My brain had finally stopped swimming now that my exam was over, and I itched to pick up my pen and grab the composition book I’d stashed in my nightstand. Those nights when I was so restless I couldn’t concentrate, I’d grab it and pour my thoughts out on page after page. There were over a hundred of those stashed away in my closet.
Somehow, writing in a notebook was different than on the computer. The words I wrote in the black and white speckled books weren’t real. Doodles, certainly not me pouring my heart and soul out onto the page. Becoming a writer wasn’t something I could do. I’d seen what happened when people went down that path, and it wasn’t for me.
I turned the last envelope over and gasped at the handwriting scrawled across the front. Kara Ellis with our address underneath. Return address confirmed exactly what I’d known the second I saw the familiar scrawl handwriting all over the front. Angie Ellis. My mom. My biological mother. I shot up, my feet landing hard on the floor with a thud as the letter floated to the soft carpet.
I stood at the edge of my bed, staring down at the envelope for who knows how long. My hand shook as I picked it up. The outside was a little damp like it had gotten wet and dried out again. I slid my finger under the flap, tearing through the paper.
I hadn’t heard from my biological mom in almost five years. It had been my high school graduation, and she’d showed up bombed out of her mind. The shame and embarrassment that dug its claws into my stomach on that day had been something I’d never forget. I’d been there with Carla, Mike, and Lauren, taking pictures with my honor roll sashes draped around my shoulders, when I’d seen her from the corner of my eye.
Like everything had been plunged underwater, I’d watched her approach us. It was my nightmare come to life, but I hadn’t known what to do about it. The other kids and their parents had snapped shots, and their joyful, non-slurred words of congratulations had swirled like a tornado around me, sucking the air from my lungs.
Her steps had faltered as she strode toward us. With her arms spread wide, nearly spilling out of her too tight and too short dress, she’d laid a wet kiss on my cheek. The stench of booze had wafted over me and made my eyes water. I’d stood stock straight, not hugging her back but frozen as I’d warred between bursting into tears, shoving her off, and running away.
Other kids and their parents had tried not to stare, but her voice carried across the pristinely manicured field. The smell of freshly mowed grass, balloons, and expensive perfume had hung in the air before she’d arrived, then it had only smelled like vodka. Cheap vodka that might make you blind. Blinking back my tears as she let me go, I’d staggered back into the safety of my mom and dad.
They had been gracious and so nice, even inviting her to come to the family dinner with us. I’d asked to have a word with her privately and told her in no uncertain terms was she going to go.
I’d told her I didn’t want to see her again. She’d stared at me like a stranger, and that’s exactly what I wanted to be to her. Someone she remembered knowing a long time ago but never wanted to see again. That’s how I felt about her.
It seemed like she’d taken what I’d said to heart. Before that day, she’d pop up every so often to embarrass me. She’d turned up at my science fair and tipped over my booth on solar-powered solutions for providing potable water. With a sorry she’d tried to smooth things over like she always did.
But I hadn’t seen her since graduation. There’d been a few voicemails on my old phone that she’d cleaned herself up, but that was something I’d heard for my entire childhood. More likely she would tell herself she’d only have one more drink, one more night out, one more party and then she’d stop. Only one more time and then she’d be on the straight and narrow.
With trembling hands I unfolded the four sheets of lined paper.
Kara,
There are a lot of people I need to make amends to in my life, but none of them more so than you, my wonderful daughter. That’s probably why I’ve left this letter for so long. I’ve been sober for nearly three years now. It took a lot to get me to this place and I wish I could say I did it because I wanted to be a better mom to you, but that would be a lie.
I had a chance to be a better mother to you. I had so many chances, and I let them slip through my fingers. I let you slip through my fingers. I wanted you to know how proud I am of you. I found someone to get me a program from your graduation, and I saw the pictures of you online. Magna cum laude. Even though I was sober when you graduated, I thought it would be best if I stayed away. I wished I could take some of the credit for how you turned out, but I know that was all you and the family who gave you so much more than I could.
I know I don’t have any right to ask, but would you want to—
I couldn’t read any farther. The pounding in my chest made my hands shake harder, and the pages flittered to the floor. I sank, leaning against my bed. I was being sucked down a rabbit hole to a past I’d rather forget.
Snatching the letter off the floor, I opened the small drawer in my desk and shoved it in there. It was a cobra ready to strike.
Those few pieces of paper managed to rip apart the happiness I’d had only a few minutes ago. The happy life I’d created here. The fantasy that Mike and Carla had raised me from birth—that someone had set me in their arms when I was a baby, and things were as they’d always been. That I’d had their love and support from day one and had never known what it was like to go to bed afraid my mom might not come home or worse, she’d come home with someone terrible.
A shudder shot through me. It had only happened once, when I was ten. I’d woken up groggy and probably hungover. When my stomach hurt so bad from hunger, sometimes I’d find Angie’s stash and hope I’d pass out until school the next day, so I could get something to eat. But that night I’d woken up, and there’d been a guy looming over me in my bed, his hand on my thigh. Screaming so loud my own ears rang, I’d darted around him and locked myself in the bathroom.
Shaking and crying, I’d curled myself up in a ball in the bathtub, scrubbing at the spot on my leg where he’d touched me. There was a lot of yelling and screaming on the other side of the door. Loud thumps made me bury my face in my knees. And then there was silence. Somehow the silence had been scarier than the yelling. There was a soft knock on the door, and my mom’s voice on the other side.
Reluctantly, I’d climbed out of the bath and unlocked the door, cracking it open only a little bit. My mom had sported a nice shiner under her eye. She let me know she’d kicked him out and that she was sorry. Coaxing me out of the bathroom, she sat beside my bed with her hand wrapped around mine.
Her words of reassurance and apologies had lulled me to sleep. I’d thought maybe things would change. Maybe she’d seen how bad things could be when she did what she did, but I woke up the next morning, and she wasn’t there. And she hadn’t turned up for nearly a week. So much for that.
There was a gentle knock at my door, and I slammed the desk drawer shut and whipped around.
“Hey, Kara. I heard your test went well?” Mom poked her head in my room.
“It went really well.” I plastered on a smile.
Mom opened the door all the way. She already had her apron on, and the Christmas music drifted up the stairs from the kitchen. She didn’t let up on Christmas mode until after the first. These are the memories I should have had all my life. This was the life I’d dreamed of having. Bringing Angie into this wasn’t what I needed. Bringing her up would only put a damper on the holidays, and I didn’t want Mom or Dad to think that I wanted anything to do with my biological mother. After everything they’d done for me, it would be a slap in the face.
Maybe after New Year’s I’d bring it up. Maybe.
“Are you going to come help with cookies or were you going out to celebrate your big test finishing?” She raised her fists in the air like she was shaking pom-poms. As much as I enjoyed cutting out cookies until it felt like my hands would fall off, I needed to get out of the house. Gazing back at
the desk, I had to go somewhere and unwind.
“I’m going to head out with friends. We are still trying to decide where we are going.”
“Okay, I’m glad.” She held her hand to her chest and let out a sigh of relief. “You can’t stay cooped up in this house all the time.”
“I love being cooped up in this house.”
She rolled her eyes. “I was in college, too, once, and living at home was not my idea of fun at all. Not that we don’t love that you’re here after you were in Boston for undergrad, but I think you need to have some fun.”
“I’m plenty fun. Remember over the summer when I was gone for a whole week.”
She pursed her lips and shot me a look. “I hardly consider a weeklong trip with Habitat for Humanity to be a wild and adventurous time.”
“I learned how to use a nail gun. I’d say anyone who put one of those in my hands is all about living dangerously.” I stuck my tongue out at her, and she laughed.
“Have fun and I’m so proud of you.” She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tight before heading back downstairs.
Grabbing my phone off my bed, I sent a message to the group.
Me: Are you guys still going out tonight?
I really didn’t feel like going to New York. Why couldn’t they stay local? Philly had tons of awesome bars.
Sam: We are on our way to party town!
Anne: Train pulled away like 15 mins ago.
Damn it, well there went that idea.
Me: Awesome, I hope you guys have fun!
Charles: What’s up?
Me: Nothing, I wanted to make sure you guys were on your way and hadn’t dropped dead in the parking lot after the exam.
Sam: Nothing can keep me from the party! Not even failing the hardest exam I’ve ever taken.
