Gwen lifted the wooden spoon out of the chili pot as her head jerked toward her daughter. They hadn’t even eaten yet, why would Missy be ready to leave? She stood with the spoon in the air but felt a scary similarity to the onion cleaver and all the crying earlier. She dropped the spoon in the chili with a plop. No need to go there again. She hadn’t been that successful at de-puffing her eyes from the first round, and her capris weren’t even finished with their dry cycle.
She took a deep breath and tried to smile. "I made your favorite. It’s your last…" No. She wasn't going to think about it. "Let’s eat, and then if you want, you can drive your car over to Dad’s. I loaded it with all the new things for your dorm. You’ll be excited to get on the road first thing in the morning, Missy."
"M."
Gwen flinched. She may never be able to get that right, get anything right maybe. "Sorry, it’s just habit, Mi…, M." She tried to see in the young woman in front of her the M she wanted to be. But all Gwen could see was the Missy she’d been the first seventeen years of her life. She studied her daughter's lovely face and felt a stab of guilt over the unhappy expression her girl wore. It looked like a different kind of unhappiness the past few months, as if early teen moodiness hadn’t solidified so much as become joyless adult.
But she still knew her child. She had to. She knew from memory the way Missy’s hair, shiny and straight held the dark of Steve’s with a touch of her own chestnut. But Missy’s hazel eyes were her very own shade, and it never failed to hurt Gwen to see the lack of warmth in them for her. She’d distract them both with dinner.
Opening the cupboard, she took out two silver rimmed bowls. It would all work out for Missy. She was a smart and talented girl. Amazing with music. Hadn’t she been the pianist and sung with the high school’s choir? Gwen scooped chili in a bowl, topped it with freshly snipped cilantro from her garden, and handed it to Missy who took it with an audible sigh. The girl just needed encouragement. "You’re going to love the university. Belmar is a great school. I loved U both years I was on campus. Year-and-a-half. I had the best time ever my freshman--"
"I’m not going."
Gwen filled her own bowl. It was a particularly good batch. The hiccup during the onion chopping had slowed her down, but not ruined the chili at all. She led the way to the dining room, ignoring the chunk missing from one chair and admiring the table already laid out with hot cornbread and two kinds of honey. "These will be the best years of your life, hon. You’ll meet so many new people--"
"I’m not going."
"You’ll really love…" Setting her bowl down, Gwen pulled out a chair and sat harder than she needed to. She just needed to process the… "What?"
Missy dug into her chili.
Gwen cleared her throat. "You’re what?"
"You met Dad at the university, didn’t you?" Missy laughed. "You’ll meet people. Bet you wish you hadn’t."
"I knew your dad a little from high school. What…" What was happening? Missy looked almost happy, enjoying the meal. Gwen looked down at her own bowl and couldn’t have eaten a bite on a bet, and she never bet. She waved her hand toward the back of the house. "The car’s packed."
"Yeah. I'll come get it after I'm settled. It's too small for hauling the equipment."
"You’re…" Gwen scanned the table. It was supposed to be the last supper before Missy left for Belmar. She was registered for classes and the car was packed, and Gwen even made sure the gas tank was full. "What’s happening?"
She realized she’d whispered the question, maybe only asked herself. She cleared her throat, wished her head would follow. "Missy, what are you doing?"
"M, Mom, M. It’s even easier than Missy or Melissa or Melissa Gwen. Don’t know why it’s so hard for you. Dad calls me M. Austin calls me M." Missy held up her hand before reaching for more cornbread. "No discussion of Austin."
"I wasn’t going to--"
"Yeah, you were. And what’s going on is really pretty great."
Gwen tried to take a sip of water but felt her hand shake and put