Cursive - By Phoebe Lane Page 0,81

deemed essential for everyone to know—how to jumpstart a car, how to change a flat tire, how to reset a tripped breaker, how to load and unload a gun, and how to survive out in the woods.

Poor Jim; he should've had a boy.

Aislynn vividly remembered watching her father rub two pieces of wood together for what felt like hours, finally managing to get an ember lit. She was absolutely mesmerized by the vision of the ember falling into the tinder nest, its color a muted red. Jim blew softly on it, adding the oxygen it so desperately needed to grow and become an almighty flame, a force that existed only to kill and devastate if not controlled properly.

Aislynn then recalled a very important detail about the process of making fire—it had been surprisingly silent. The only sounds she remembered were Jim's soft breaths and the faint pops and crackles of the blaze as it grew.

Just like the night before, Pam had been quietly pleasant during dinner.

And eerily silent.

She participated in the conversation but mainly remained quiet. After the main entrée, Aislynn finally settled down enough to enjoy the rest of the night, thinking things would turn out just like they had the night before.

I should have remembered the silence.

Aislynn realized then that Pam was her ember, and that her own breaths helped turn that ember into a destructive, silent flame.

"So, Aislynn, I kind of wanted to talk to you about some things," Pam said, glancing briefly over at Jace, and then turning her eyes back to her daughter. "But since I'm leaving so early tomorrow, and we won't have enough time, I guess now will have to do."

"Okay?" Aislynn said, taken aback by her sudden forwardness.

"I just wanted to talk to you about what you plan to do with your life, sweetheart. It's been a year since you left home, and it's time for you to start making decisions about your future."

"This is really not the time to talk about this, please," Aislynn quickly answered, immediately breaking out in a cold sweat.

"Well, it's never a good time with you. You're always busy with something, or you just find a way to avoid talking about it altogether, just like you avoid talking about—"

"Mom, stop!" Aislynn interrupted her, and felt her dinner threatening to come back up her throat. "I told you, this is not the time. And even it was the right time, there's nothing to talk about or decide on."

"What about your life and your job in Texas?" Pam pressed.

"I don't have a job in Texas anymore. Writing is my job now."

"Writing is not a job; it's a hobby," Pam said with a humorless chuckle.

"Are you kidding? There are thousands, if not millions, of people in the world who write for a living. What's so wrong with that?"

"Nothing's wrong with that, but those people know what they're doing."

Aislynn scoffed and focused her eyes on the droplets of water running down the side of her glass, feeling like a teenager again. She couldn't force herself to look at Jace, afraid of what she might see in his face, and even more terrified about what he might see in hers.

Damn it. How does she make me feel so small so easily?

"What I mean is that authors go to school and train for a career in writing. You haven't done any of that," Pam continued.

"You know what? It's okay if you want to think of my writing as just a hobby. It means way more to me, and that's all that really matters."

There. Standing up for myself. Need to hang on to that.

"So, you're never coming back home, then?" Pam asked, squaring her shoulders and resting her arms on the table.

Home?

"Texas is not home anymore. I'm enjoying myself here in San Diego. I'm feeling happier than I ever have, and I have good people around me now," she said, and searched for Jace's hand under the table. It was warm and steady, just like she needed it to be.

"People? What are you talking about? You only have Ellie, and she's not here half the time."

I have Jace.

"I'm sorry, Pam, but you're wrong," Jace interjected before Aislynn could get the words out. He had kept silent this whole time, quietly supporting her and respecting the fact this was a discussion between mother and daughter. But now it seemed like Pam's comment had hit a very sensitive nerve for him. "She has me, and she has my family here now, too," he added.

"That's really sweet,