Page 7 of Holiday Star
“Istill need you.” I sniffle, my throat tightening, hating this idea of my mom leaving me. Moving not just across the country, but across the world.
I’ve already lost Dad.
First with the marriage to Seth and now with this move, I fear even more that I’m losing my mother. The situation raises so many questions. Who will I have left now? Who will take care of me? Who can I take care of if all my family has moved on?
She smiles gently. “But you don’t need me, honey. You’ve all moved out and started your adult lives. It’s been a hard adjustment for me, too. Watching you grow.” Mom takes in a shuddering breath, and her smile wavers. “When I’m in Japan, I’ll miss you. I already miss you, but I’ll just be a plane ride away. It’s not like we won’t see each other.”
I want to tell her it’s not that simple. That the airplane ride between New York and Japan is a whole hell of a lot longer than the one between New York and California. But how can I tell her that when, for the last two years, I didn’t even make it home for Christmas? Do I expect her to just sit there and wait for me or my brothers on the off chance that we need her?
I rein in my desire to be selfish. To demand she stay here for me. Even though every fiber of my being hates this idea, I nod my head, still sniffling. “Japan sounds cool. I’ve always wanted to visit there.”
There’s relief in her eyes.
“When do you leave?”
“That’s the thing, honey. What I need to talk to you about. We leave tomorrow.”
2
Tomorrow!” I exclaim so loudly that the other doctors in the lounge lift their heads and stare over at me. “What do you mean? Tomorrow? I’m coming home tomorrow.”
She speaks to me in a soothing tone, the one she would use when I was little, before I went to the pediatrician to get a shot. “I know, and I’m so sorry, but the project starts immediately. They want us to leave as soon as possible.”
“There’s more to tell you. We have to ask you for a huge favor. You’re already set to come here, and we desperately need someone to watch over the work being done on the house. Not that you actually have to do anything with the construction. A foreman is on site who monitors everything. It’s just that we’re supposed to have a member of the family living here for liability purposes. Do you think you could do that? House sit for us? I know it’s a lot.”
I’m silent, stunned.
Mom is flustered by my obvious shock, rushing in to say, “If it’s too much, I totally understand. I can stay back for a while, let Seth go to Japan without me. I’ll just tell the school that I can’t start yet. I—”
“No,” I interrupt, my voice firm. There’s no way I’ll be responsible for keeping Mom from Seth. They’ve been inseparable since they got married. It’s like Mom wants to spend every minute with her new husband, maybe to make up for all the time she missed out on with my dad.
“It’s fine. You go, and I’ll stay.”
Mom looks skeptical, so I tell her, “Really.It’ll be okay. I can watch your house by myself. It might even be better that way. I’ll be able to focus on getting my research notes in order and write my article.”
I don’t believe what I’m saying, but if I show any misgivings Mom will feel too guilty to leave. She’ll stay home with me and be miserable.
“What does this mean for Christmas, though? Are you coming back for that?”
Eyes glassy, Mom sadly shakes her head. “I’m sorry, honey, but I don’t think so. We’ll be too busy settling into our new place by then.”
“What about everyone else? Isanyonecoming home for Christmas?”
A heavy, awkward silence descends. On the verge of tears, Mom says. “No. There’s no room for anyone here as long as the house is under construction. No one wants to get hotel rooms again. Brandon and Liv will go to Liv’s parents with the girls.”
This can’t be right. We can’t all be separated for yet another Christmas. It’s been brutal starting a new life in Manhattan, battling against the rigor of residency along with missing my family. The anticipation of going home is the only thing that’s gotten me through these past few months.
I raise my voice into the speaker. “How about you, Teddy? Do you want to come spend Christmas with me at Mom and Seth’s house? We can have a sleepover like we used to when you were little. Spread out blankets on the floor.”
Teddy sits up straight and scrubs his hand over his face, a gesture he makes when he’s uncomfortable. “I can’t. I got picked as the RA who has to stay in the dorms for winter break. You know, for the kids who don’t go home. I’m sorry, Sissy.”
He must really feel bad about it to use my old nickname. The one from when he was a toddler and couldn’t pronounce Gwen. That name pulls on my heartstrings every time, reminding me of when he was a tow-headed little boy with cracker crumbs on his face and skinned knees. Those days seem so long ago.
I sigh, defeated. “Can you at least leave Pip, so I won’t be totally alone? I’ll send her back to you after Christmas.”
“Of course, Pip can stay. We were debating what to do with her anyway.” Mom still looks teary-eyed. “We’ll all FaceTime together on Christmas, so it won’t be like you’re totally alone.”
Everyone nods, and I nod along with them.
