Chapter 7 - I Asked Mom What She Wanted Me To Do Before I Did It
The hardest day was Wednesday.
Not because anyone fought.
Because Mom said:
“I want you to leave Thursday.”
I stared.
“I have orders.”
“I know.”
“I have to leave.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you saying it like you’re kicking me out?”
“Because I know what you’re thinking.”
“What?”
“Extending.”
I had been.
I could request another week.
Maybe two.
My commander had already told me to ask if family circumstances required it.
Mom knew my face.
“You need me.”
“Yes.”
“I need you too.”
That stopped her.
“But?”
“But I don’t want the next chapter of this family to be Rachel stays because guilt finally got stronger than the Army.”
I looked away.
“That’s not fair.”
“Probably.”
I smiled despite myself.
Then she continued.
“You were gone too much.”
“Yes.”
“Vanessa took too much authority.”
“Yes.”
“Daniel made anger into proof.”
Yes.
“Lucas disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“And I hid a letter because I was afraid of losing the woman who made breakfast.”
I looked at her.
“Everybody has a piece.”
“Yes.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Call.”
“Directly.”
“Directly.”
“Anything else?”
“Ask.”
“Ask what?”
“What I want before you tell me what you can arrange.”
That was annoyingly reasonable.
I nodded.
Then:
“Do you want the gate removed?”
Mom looked toward the foyer.
“No.”
That surprised me.
“Why?”
“Your father loved that ridiculous thing.”
“Dad also loved beige carpet.”
“His judgment had limits.”
I laughed.
She continued.
“The gate is not the problem.”
“The lock?”
“The person deciding when it closes.”
There.
Specific.
The next morning, I packed my duffel.
Same one Vanessa had kicked.
There was still a faint scrape on one corner.
Lucas drove me to base.
Mom came outside.
Vanessa did too.
She had arrived early because Mom asked.
That mattered.
I hugged Lucas.
Then Vanessa.
The hug was awkward.
Real.
She whispered:
“I am sorry I kicked your bag.”
I almost laughed.
“That is very low on the list.”
“I know.”
She pulled back.
“And I’m sorry I deleted Daniel’s messages because I wanted to stay necessary.”
Better.
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
Then I looked at Mom.
She held the black safe key.
“What are you going to do with Daniel’s letter?”
“Put it back.”
“Why?”
“I don’t need to carry it.”
Good.
She kissed my cheek.
I picked up my duffel.
Then Mom said:
“Rachel.”
I turned.
“Call me Sunday.”
“I will.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“No ‘if I can.’”
I smiled.
“I’ll call Sunday.”
Vanessa looked at me.
“What time?”
I almost answered.
Then stopped.
Mom laughed.
“Look at her learning.”
I shook my head.
“You pick.”
“Seven.”
“Seven.”
Done.
As I walked toward Lucas’s car, I heard the front door close behind me.
I turned automatically.
The iron gate was visible through the glass.
Open.
Mom caught me looking.
She raised one hand.
Not trapped.
Not asking for help.
Just goodbye.
May you like
I got in the car.
For once, leaving did not have to mean disappearing.
