with me?” Her voice fills with hope, but the last thing she needs is me tying her down, trying to run her life for her. Mom made that very clear in her letter. Heck, she made it clear in mine.
Shaking my head, I cup her soft cheek. “You have to make your own choices.”
She nods, folds up her letter, puts it back in the envelope and then ties up the stack in a bundle once more.
My sister, not one to let grass grow under her feet, pulls the big suitcase from under her bed that Mom gave her for graduation and sets it on the comforter. Methodically, without saying a word, I help my sister pack her things. The last item she puts on top of her clothes is a picture of me, Mom and her, taken last year before Mom became too sick. It had been a good day; we’d had a picnic in the park. Laughing, snacking and listening to our mother share one story after another.
I knew then that those good days would be few and far between, so I encouraged her storytelling, while Suda Kaye ate up every ounce as though it were her very favorite dish.
Holding hands, I walk my sister to her car and put her suitcase in the trunk.
“Do you know where you’ll go after you see Camden?” I ask, knowing she wouldn’t leave without seeing him first.
She smiles and shrugs. “We’re in the middle of the country. I’m going to pick a direction and just keep driving until I get too tired. Then I’ll stop and decide where I’m meant to be next.”
“You call me. I’ll come get you anywhere, any place. No matter w-what.” My voice shakes as I pull her into my arms and inhale her fragrance—cherry-scented shampoo and lotion. I allow the scent to imprint on my memory bank for I know I’ll need it in the lonely months, maybe even years, to come.
Suda Kaye walks around her car and opens the driver’s side door. “Miss me,” she says, and the deluge of tears falls from my eyes like a waterfall.
“Miss me more,” I whisper, and hold up my hand.
She mimics the gesture, placing her palm against mine. “Always.”
Then I watch for a long time as my sister’s taillights eventually fade and disappear into the black night. Before long, I look up into the open sky and the wealth of sparkling stars blanketing the sky like diamonds over black velvet.
I pick a star and make the same wish I’ve been making since I was a child.
“One of these days, I wish someone I love would stay.”
1
The present...
All I’ve ever wanted is a normal life. A mother who met the bus drop-off after school, helped me and my sister with our homework, made dinner and tucked us in at night. A father who was strong, committed to his family and most of all present for the good and bad life can bring two young, impressionable girls. Then one day, I’d marry the man of my dreams, settle down in a career of my choosing where I made enough money to contribute to the household, but also had time for my children. After my kids moved on to their own lives, I’d grow old with my love and we’d travel through our second and third acts, a retired couple desiring to see new things and spend time with their grandchildren.
A solid, beautiful life.
I think most people want what they don’t have, or didn’t have growing up. There was a lot of love in my family, but no consistency, no permanence. The only person I could count on for anything parental was my grandfather. My mother had a wanderer’s soul and feet that could never stay in one place. I saw more of my classmates growing up throughout the years than I ever did of my own mother. Same with my father. Adam Ross was a military man with strength, grit and an unshakable sense of patriotism, but he served in other countries more than he’d ever had his boots on the ground in the States.
And then there was Suda Kaye. My whole world. My baby sister. Always by my side, her hand holding mine as we traversed the hills and valleys of an unorthodox upbringing. Except she didn’t see our parents’ lack of participation as something to harbor ill will and sour feelings. No, my dear Suda Kaye ate up life with every step she took. Her nature matched our mother’s