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“Okay,” I say. “I will.”
That’s a promise I mean to keep.
Chapter Thirty-One
Avery
MOM IS ALREADY crying. Abigail and Cora’s eyes shine with tears they refuse to shed. Dad is keeping a calm exterior, but he’s asked about our flight schedule and how long security is going to take about a dozen times.
“And you’re sure you have everything?” he says. “You didn’t forget your passport? You have enough clothes and toiletries? What about your toothbrush?”
“I’m pretty sure they have clothes and toothbrushes in London,” I say. “And my passport is right here.”
I hold it up to show him, but he starts rattling off other items I might have missed or forgotten until Mom sets a placating hand on his arm. She doesn’t speak, just shakes her head, her lip trembling, a tear rolling down her cheek.
“Oh, Mom, don’t cry,” I say.
I leave my rolling suitcase with Diego and bundle her into a hug. She breaks against my shoulder, crying into my hoodie while Dad rubs her back.
“I’m not disappearing, Mom,” I say. “I’m just going to school. Same as when I was at Montridge.”
“I could drive to Montridge,” she sobs. “I can’t drive to London.”
“No, but you can come visit. And by the time you do, I’ll be like a local. I’ll show you everything. It’ll be incredible.”
My mother’s never been out of the country. The fact that I’m going to live across an entire ocean for at least the next couple years is hard on her, especially since Gabriel and Trent left a couple days ago to fly the opposite direction and start their lives in Seattle. Abigail and Cora are going to start college soon. All of her babies are scattering, her noisy, crazy, busy, loud home full of love and fights and holidays and chaos is going to become a lot quieter all of a sudden.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I say. “I’ll visit as much as I can. And you come visit me, too, okay?”
“Okay,” she says.
She drags herself away, scrubbing at her face and sniffling. And that’s when I spot Dad red-eyed and wet-cheeked as well.
That’s what finally breaks me.
I sniffle, wiping hard at my eyes, but it’s all over. I’venever seen my dad cry, and now he’s breaking down in Newark International Airport in the middle of the day.
“Dad, please, not you too,” I say.
He laughs, unashamed, and pulls me into a crushing hug. I hide my tears against his chest while he squeezes me tight.
“You be good, okay?” he says. “Study hard, but not too hard. See the place. Travel around. I hear you can take a train all the way to Italy.”
He lets me go, and his gaze darts to the man beside me. Diego doesn’t flinch, but I can tell it’s a near thing.
“And you,” Dad says. “You take care of them, okay? That was our deal.”
I don’t know what “deal” Dad could be talking about, but Diego nods. “I will, sir.”
Dad smiles, seeming genuinely comforted by Diego’s response. Did they talk about this behind my back or something? When the hell were these two making deals about Diego taking care of me?
Abigail and Cora are next. They practically tackle me to the floor in front of the check-in kiosks. Busy travelers swerve around us, casting annoyed glares our way, but I don’t care. These are my baby sisters, and I’m going to say goodbye to them before I don’t see them for months.
“I’ll be back for the holidays,” I say. There’s a break in the class schedule at the end of December. It doesn’t perfectly match up with Hanukkah this year, but it doesn’tmatter. I’m already planning to fly home to see them, and Diego will be doing the same with his family until we need to go back in January.
“I know,” Cora says. “But that’s a long time.”
“It won’t be so long,” I say, petting her hair.
