The hug I gave my mother when she arrived at Sweetwater the next day probably left her bruised and breathless, but I didn’t care. It felt like I hadn’t seen her in a year, which was kind of true. The mother I’d left at home when I went to boarding school last summer had changed so dramatically by the time I returned in June that she was unrecognizable. A shadow had replaced the beautiful woman I’d grown up with. And here she was, no longer faded but in Technicolor, back the way I knew her best, smiling at me with tears of joy in her eyes.
“Hi, Mommy,” was all I could say through my tears. My heart was beating so loudly, I was sure she could hear it. I inhaled her scent—her signature perfume mixed with something new, something clean and fresh—and was instantly transported. This was home.
“Hi, baby, how are you?” Mom stepped back and held me at arm’s length. She reached one hand out and ruffled my shorter hair. “This is nice. It suits you somehow. I can see your face more. No long hair to hide behind anymore.”
Is that what I’d been doing? “Thank you.” Another hint that my mom had been much more observant than I’d realized.
“Will you show me around?” Mom asked. “I want to know everything you’ve been doing.”
“I’d love to.”
We loaded my bags into Mom’s car and I led her on the unofficial Sweetwater tour, hand in hand—I didn’t want to let her go. I took her to the top of the hill first, pointing out the ropes course and telling her about the little girl who couldn’t decide to jump.
“Sounds like the same way I’ve been feeling for a long time,” she replied. “Stuck between two decisions.”
Me too, I almost said. And then I caught myself. There was no reason to keep quiet. “Me too,” I told my mom. She squeezed my hand and we looked at each other for a moment. “What made you finally get help?” I asked quietly.
“You. I knew I needed to get myself together to be there for you. But also me. I wanted to do better and I wanted to be better. I wanted to learn what to do next time the depression creeps in.” Mom stopped walking and turned to me. “Because it will be back. Maybe not so severe, but I have no doubt I’ll need to use the skills I’ve been learning again. And now that I’ve started feeling like myself again, I’m in a better place to make other changes in my life. In our lives. It won’t be like it was. Not anymore. Never again.”
“I know, Mom. I’ve got your back. You don’t need to keep things from me, okay?”
“No more secrets.”
“No more secrets,” I promised too.
I showed Mom the pool and the volleyball court, stopping at the firepit where I’d made my wishes for this summer and beyond. I pointed out the equipment kiosk, saying, “Staffed first by Hannah and then by me,” and then I took her through the lodge. Deb’s gingerbread house was still displayed in the competition kitchen, the icing chipped off and broken in many places now. It was a fitting end for the fake house that Deb had built.
We made our way to the office, where Mr. Allen was behind the desk.
“Ashlyn, is this your older sister?” He winked at my mom. We walked in, and my mother offered her hand.
“Celine Zanotti. And thank you for the compliment.”
“Mrs. Zanotti, the pleasure is all mine. You have quite the remarkable daughter here.”
“I do,” Mom said, smoothing my hair back.
“I owe her a debt of gratitude for her courage this summer. Why, if Ashlyn and Hannah hadn’t blown the whistle on the woman I hired to manage this place, who knows where we’d be right now.”
Mom raised an eyebrow at me. “Oh?”
I cleared my throat. “I was just going to tell her about that, Mr. Allen.”
“Humble, too, I see. I’ll leave you ladies to it. Ashlyn, I hope you’ll consider joining us again next summer.”
“I’d like that. Thank you, sir.” I walked into Mr. Allen’s open arms, grateful that he’d taken a chance on me.
On our way to the car, I told my mom the whole story about Deb and the 911 calls and finally confronting Mr. Allen with our list of evidence. By the time I finished, tears shone in her eyes.
“I don’t know whether to be angry at her or proud of you. You should never have had to deal with that, sweetheart. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
“Probably for the same reasons you and Dad didn’t tell me about prison and rehab. I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t want my story to be a distraction. And really,” I said, “I think on some level, I wanted to see if I could handle it by myself.”
“Did you think you couldn’t?” Mom asked. I gave her a look that said, “Are you seriously asking me that question?” She sighed. “It hasn’t been easy for you, has it?”
“No, not really,” I said to my feet. I’d put my hiking boots on that morning. Maybe I’d hoped they’d make me feel brave. I knew my mother was on my team and had already given her blessing for me to come home, but a small part of me was afraid my dad would still say no and she would allow it. It was a reasonable fear.
Mom pushed her shoulders back. “We’re going to fix this. All three of us. Dad’s not off the hook anymore. I know a lot of sweeping his words under the rug was my fault. I do. And I’m going to be better about that. I want you to do the same. With both me and Dad. If there’s something you don’t think is right or something you feel strongly about, I need you to say it. I can’t help if you don’t, deal?”
“Deal.” Mom held her hand out to me and I shook it, like we were business partners.
When we got to the car, both Hannah and Baxter were standing there waiting for us.
“Mom, this is my friend, Baxter Clark,” they nodded at each other amiably, “and you remember Hannah.”
Hannah stepped forward and said, “Hi, Aunt Celine, it’s so nice to see you.” She and my mom exchanged a long, overdue hug. It was clear Mom had been missing the warmth and closeness of family relationships, real family relationships, as much as I had.
“Hannah,” she said looking her up and down at arm’s length, “you’re so grown up. Last time I saw you, you were this high.” Mom held her hand at her ribs. “How are you? Did you have a nice summer?”
“I did, thank you. It was really nice having Ashlyn here.” Hannah chucked me on the arm. “She saved the day more than once.”
“So I heard.” Mom’s face shone with pride. “How are your folks?”
“They’re good, thanks. They should be here in a bit, actually. Be prepared. They’re probably going to give you the strong-arm about coming for Christmas.”
“I don’t think they’ll have to convince us,” I said.
“If Greta is making her baked ziti, we’ll be there with bells on.”
My jaw dropped open. “You know about the ziti? How am I the only one who didn’t know about the ziti?”
Mom put an arm around my shoulder. “There are probably a lot of things your father and I should’ve shared with you.” Bax stood there, smiling faintly and taking all this family talk in.
Hannah looked from Bax to me and cleared her throat loudly. “Aunt Celine, do you want to come with me to get some drinks for the car ride? We can snag some from the kitchen. In the lodge,” she said, not at all obviously.
Mom looked at her quizzically before catching on. “Sure, Hannah. Let’s do that.”
When they were several yards away, out of earshot, I turned to Bax, shyly.
“Are you glad to be going home?” he asked.
“Yes, though it’ll be weird without my dad there.”
“For sure. But you’ll figure it out.”
I smiled at him. I wanted to reach out and hug him, but I was afraid it would make it harder to say goodbye. “Are you looking forward to the new season?”
“I’ll keep busy. But it won’t be the same without Hannah here.” He looked at me intensely, his pale eyes glittering. “And you. I’ll miss having you around.”
I clasped my hands behind my back to keep myself from launching myself at him. “I’ll miss you too. Would it be okay if I write to you?”
Baxter’s face broke out into a wide grin that I couldn’t help but return. “Only if you promise to send me some new quotes.”
“I think I can handle that. I actually have one for you now. But read it later, okay?”
“Okay.”
I pulled a tiny, folded piece of paper from my back pocket that I’d torn from my quote journal that morning. It read:
SOAR, EAT ETHER, SEE WHAT HAS NEVER
BEEN SEEN; DEPART, BE LOST, BUT CLIMB.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
I slid it into his hand, which was warm and rough and made me wish I could hold it, but I didn’t let myself.
“I’ll see you,” Bax said, still smiling, though it had slipped a bit, and put the paper in his pocket.
“See you,” I echoed. And I watched him walk away until he disappeared up the hill. I was glad we hadn’t said goodbye. I truly hoped I’d get to see him again.
Mom and Hannah appeared a few minutes later, bottles of water in their hands. “Did you say goodbye to your friend?” Mom asked pointedly. Hannah stifled a giggle.
“Yep,” I said.
“Well, I guess that means it’s my turn,” Hannah said, nodding toward the car that was pulling in next to my mom’s. Uncle Ed and Aunt Greta.
“Celine!” my aunt exclaimed, climbing out of the car and making a beeline for my mother. “You look wonderful. Positively glowing.” I was grateful Aunt Greta knew exactly what to say to make my mom feel good.
“A good long rest will do that for you,” my mom said, returning her hug. “It’s been entirely too long, Greta. Hannah tells me you’ve been making holiday plans already.”
Greta actually clapped her hands like a little kid. “Yes! I hope you and Ashlyn will come and stay with us for Christmas. Dylan will be home, it’ll be great. A regular reunion.”
“I think we can arrange that. But only if you’ll all come to Virginia for Thanksgiving.”
Greta looked like she was about to cry. Uncle Ed rubbed her shoulders and blushed, smiling like he’d just won the lottery. “We’d love to,” he said.
“Good. It’ll be nice to have a house full of people for once.” Mom nodded, pleased with herself. I was proud of her. She may not have been voicing her opinion in family therapy just yet, but enlisting allies was a good first step. She turned to me. “Ashlyn, love, we need to get on the road if we want to get there before visiting hours are over.”
I nodded and kissed my aunt and uncle on the cheeks. “Thank you. For everything.” I knew I didn’t need to say anything more. They understood.
“Tell your dad I’ll see him next week,” Uncle Ed whispered in my ear. I pulled back a little, my eyes wide, and he smiled. “We’ve been talking.”
“That’s good,” I whispered back.
“We’ll see you soon, Ashlyn. Okay?”
“Yes, see you very soon,” I said and gave Aunt Greta another hug.
And then there was Hannah. Only a few months ago, she was as good as a stranger, someone whose ease at life I envied. And now, we were a team. Hannah had helped me shrug things off a little more often and showed me how to be brave.
“Will you text me when you get home?” I knew we were both happy to be going back to the land of cell service.
I nodded. “And will you text me when you get to college?”
“You can come visit me any time. We’ll go to a party or a concert or something.” Hannah’s voice cracked.
“You got it, cuz,” I said.
We stared at each other, neither of us wanting to separate, but my mother gently placed her hand in mine to let me know it was time to go. I put my free hand up to wave and suddenly Hannah rushed at me. She hugged me so tight I could barely breathe. And I hugged her back, just as hard, glad to have family who would miss me.