Chapter Two

TAKEOFFS AND PROMISES

Two weeks later, I’m standing with Mom at Sea-Tac Airport in front of international departures. It’s Labor Day weekend and the airport is mobbed. Uber drivers and shuttle buses load and unload. Dad’s circling around so we have time to say our goodbye.

Mom has two large suitcases as well as a carry-on. She holds out her phone and takes a selfie with me.

She’s smiling, beaming actually, and I’m not. Well, I’m trying to be happy, but I know it looks forced.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she says over the roar of planes taking off and landing.

Neither can I. “Will you send me the photo?” I ask.

“Of course.”

“You might not have Wi-Fi on the plane.”

“Doing it now.” Mom taps her phone. “Sent.”

She gives me a huge hug and I don’t want to let her go. My throat feels thick. “I’m happy for you, Mom,” I say. And that’s true, at least partly.

“This is something I’ve dreamed about forever. I’m still pinching myself. It’s like waking up and realizing you’re getting that gold on the other side of the rainbow.”

For as long as I can remember, she’s always wanted to travel and work internationally, especially in Morocco.

She shakes her head with an awestruck expression. “Always go for it, Lily. Never give up. Never. Even when it seems like everything’s against you.” Her cheeks are Jonathan apple red. She’s seriously glowing.

“I won’t,” I say, thinking about how Mom got pregnant with me when she was a senior in college, and she told me how hard it was to finish her degree. But she did it.

She smoothes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Honey, I get this isn’t … this isn’t going to be easy for you. But I know you’re strong and will learn a lot.” She places her arm around my shoulder. “Let’s look at this way: I want to go. I don’t want you to be miserable. This will be an opportunity to try new things, make stronger bonds—starting with your stepsister.”

“Yeah, I guess that part’s good.”

“More than good. Great! Hannah’s so creative. You could have fun together. You know those watercolor pencils Grandma sent you? You two can do that together. Or maybe make an About Me collage. Or greeting cards to mail to a certain person who’s going to be overseas—hint hint. And you know Kimberly’s nice. Maybe you can show her and Hannah how to bake.”

“Yeah, maybe. I don’t know if they’re into that sort of thing.”

Some guy jumps out of a van and practically runs over my toes with his luggage.

“It’d just be another way to get close,” continues Mom. “I understand Kimberly’s really into scrapbooking. Maybe she can help you decorate your room. She has a wonderful design sense. I think you all will have a great time! And they just got that cute dog.”

“Maybe,” I say, and somehow my mom’s enthusiasm is working a little bit. Thinking about Maisie, an adorable goldendoodle, helps.

Unclenching my hands, I give a tentative smile.

“Try to really make this new”—she pauses—“living situation all work out.” She looks so earnest, so hopeful as she reaches out a hand to me, that I can’t help but feel hopeful, too. “Promise me you’ll try your very best.”

Ugh. My family isn’t very good at promises. First of all, with my parents, the have-and-to-hold-until-death-do-us-part didn’t exactly happen. And there are the little things. My dad promised me that he would rent an RV and we would go to Yellowstone. It’s never happened. My mom promised me I could get my ears double pierced. Then she said I had to wait until I was older, in case I changed my mind. Blah blah blah.

But I can’t be like that.

“I will.” I take Mom’s hand. It’s warm and strong. “I promise.”

“Good.” Her smile grows even bigger as she gives my hand a squeeze. Wow. She’s so happy. Seeing her like this makes my heart lift.

I’m really going to try and live like the mountain is out. For Mom.