Page 89 of The Choices I've Made
“Well, I did,” she said. “It was right around the time I was looking at colleges. I hadn’t told them I was considering something out of state, and I was terrified to tell them. So, I casually asked what they’d done before settling down. I admit, I’d never asked either. I’d just always assumed they’d gotten married, and they’d literally become a family the very next day because parents didn’t have sex, right? Immaculate conception.”
“Right,” I agreed, laughing.
“But, as it turned out, a baby didn’t fall from the sky the day after their wedding, like I’d imagined, and it was actually several years before you arrived.”
“Were they in college?”
“No—well, I mean, I think they did that before. I don’t know. I didn’t get the entire biography. But I did find out that our parents were quite the adventurers. Rather than buy a house and unpack all those small appliances and china settings they’d received from their wedding, they sold it all to a pawn shop and hit the road.”
“What?” I said, nearly choking on my own spit from the shock.
“I know, right? But it’s totally true. They traveled all over the United States, working in small kitchens, learning the trade, and they even made it all the way to Europe. They stayed in cheap motels and saved what they could. Our parents were nomads!”
“Wow, I always thought Mom had just learned everything from Grammy and Pop Pop like I did.”
“I’m sure she did, but they wanted to make their own mark, as much as you do. Don’t you see it? You’ve got to do the same. You need your nomadic time. I’m having mine. Mom and Dad had theirs. Now, it’s your chance.”
The whole idea sounded thrilling. Going where the wind took me, perfecting my skills as a baker, maybe even making it to France like I’d once hoped.
But it was nothing more than the dream of a girl, and as I’d reminded myself the night before, I was not that girl anymore.
“I can’t,” I said solemnly. “And, more than that, I don’t want to. You and Mom and Dad might have felt the need to get away, but I’m perfectly happy where I am. I know what I’m doing here.”
A sad look crossed her face as I rose from the bed and headed for the door.
“Then, I wish you all the best, Molly. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
That same photo I’d been staring at caught my eye once more. My parents’ faces were smiling back at me, their clothes dated and bleached of color from years of exposure. They were wrapped around each other, so young.
So carefree.
I wondered briefly where this photo had been taken. Colorado? California? Maybe even Rome?
My chest tightened.
“I have everything I need right here, in this house,” I said before fleeing.
A half an hour later, she left, a half-hearted hug and a promise to return for Christmas.
I took a deep breath and thanked God for the bond of sisterhood because, even though we were both upset with each other, we’d never let it get in the way of what truly mattered.
Because sisters were for life.
Life returned to something close to normal the days following my sister’s departure. New guests arrived and departed while I did my best to avoid thinking about that memorable night with Jake.
Unfortunately, my ankle still hadn’t healed, a consequence of my inability to follow directions from an overbearing albeit hot doctor, so literally every damn step I took was a constant reminder of him.
But I refused to see someone about it.
Particularly since the only doctor in town was the same man I was currently trying to avoid.
Life had been so much easier a few weeks ago.
But happier?
I wasn’t so sure.
What I was sure of was my dwindling supply of produce. I’d had a full house over the last few days, and I’d depleted nearly every fruit and veggie I had, fresh and otherwise.
