Page 2 of Boots & Scars

Her eyes met mine, filled with a mixture of pride and worry. “I know you can’t stay home forever, Everly. It’s just hard to let go.” She paused, her voice softening. “I’ve always tried to protectyou from the world out there. It's not… it's not a kind place. Not like you. I would hate for it to take that away from you."

"It won't," I insisted. "I promise."

Her eyes searched mine again, trying to find some understanding in what I was saying. “You’ve always been so independent.”

“Maybe,” I admitted, looking down at my plate. The chicken didn’t seem as appetizing anymore. “But it’s more than that now. It’s about growing up and making my own decisions. It's about you trusting me."

She sighed and reached across the table to squeeze my hand gently. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“I know,” I whispered, squeezing back.

The clock chimed the hour, breaking the silence that had settled over us like a heavy blanket. It was a reminder that time kept moving forward, no matter how much we tried to hold onto the past.

Mom gave me a small smile and stood up from the table. “Dessert?”

I nodded, grateful for the change in topic. Sometimes it was easier to let things go unspoken.

She brought out a slice of apple pie and set it in front of me. As I took a bite, the familiar taste brought back memories of simpler times—before college applications and missed quarters and difficult conversations.

For now, we could enjoy this moment together.

“So, how’s school?” she asked, sitting back down and folding her hands in her lap.

I perked up at the question, a genuine smile spreading across my face. “It’s great, actually. I’m really enjoying my classes this quarter. I have finals this week, and then it's spring break, and then we start spring quarter before summer.”

Her eyes lit up with curiosity. “What classes are you taking?”

“Well, there’s History,” I began, leaning forward slightly. “I love diving into different eras and seeing how they shaped our present. Plus, Professor Jenkins is amazing. He makes everything come alive with his storytelling.”

“That sounds fascinating,” she said, nodding. “And what else?”

“English Literature,” I continued. “We’re covering some really interesting authors this semester. I’ve always loved reading, so it’s like a dream come true to discuss books with people who are just as passionate.”

“I remember how you used to devour books,” Mom said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, some things never change,” I admitted with a grin. “Then there’s Statistics. It’s challenging but in a good way. It feels like solving puzzles.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Statistics? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“I know, right?” I laughed. “But it’s actually pretty cool once you get the hang of it. And last but not least, there’s Psychology 1. Learning about how the mind works is fascinating.”

“Psychology?” she echoed, her interest piqued.

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” I said enthusiastically. “Understanding why people behave the way they do—it’s like unlocking secrets about humanity. Especially since…”

I let my voice trail off. I didn't tell her I took the class to learn more about people since I didn't get that opportunity growing up. I didn't want her to feel bad about the choices she made for me. I knew it was done in good faith. Everything she did for me was because she wanted to protect me.

Mom looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking again. “And all these classes... they’re part of your plan to become a teacher?”

“Exactly,” I nodded eagerly. “I want to teach elementary school someday.”

She smiled warmly at me. “You’d make an excellent teacher, Everly. You’ve always had such a passion for learning and sharing knowledge. The kids would be lucky to have you."

“Thanks, Mom,” I said softly, feeling a swell of pride in my chest.

We continued eating our pie in comfortable silence for a few moments before she spoke again.

“You seem really happy,” she observed.

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