Page 62 of The Promises We Were Never Meant To Keep

Mom laughs as I dart to my dresser, scooping a stack of panties, socks, and a couple bras from inside. I drop them into the bag.

“Did you pack a couple pairs of sweats? Mornings are cold.”

“Sweats.” I snap my fingers as I nod, pivoting back to the dresser.

It’s as I’m tucking the sweats into the bag that Mom asks, “Have you been taking your pills?”

“Yes.” I’ve forgotten a few here and there, but I’ve been taking them.

“Good.” Mom shifts and pulls something from her pocket. When I realize it’s a little stack of condoms, my face turns apple red.

“Mom!”

She says nothing as she tucks them into the section with my toiletries. “Safety first.”

“We’re not doing that.” I don’t know why I have to keep telling her this. And I don’t know why it never gets less embarrassing.

She frowns. “There’s always a first time, Faye. It’s best to be prepared.”

“I’m sharing a tent with Andy and Shy.”

Mom gives me a smile that feels knowing. “I was seventeen once, too.”

“I’m not seventeen,” I mumble.

“Your birthday is tomorrow.”

I give her a wry smile. “Don’t you mean our birthday?”

She laughs softly. “I’m not trying to make you feel pressured not to do something. If you choose to do that with Holt, to give that piece of yourself to him, then I support you. All I am asking of you, Faye, is that you are safe.”

“Okay, Mom.” I return her soft smile.

She stands, moves close, and pulls me in for a hug. “I love you, baby girl.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

Her arms pulse around me, like she just can’t help herself. Like the emotion is too much to be contained inside her. She makes a noise. A sigh of relief tinged in grief.

I tip my head back to see misty eyes. “Mom?”

“Watching you grow up has been the greatest gift God could have ever given me.” She sniffs. “But it hurts, baby. In the sweetest, most painful way. It just happens so fast. So clearly, I can remember the day you were born. I blinked, and now you’re a young woman.”

“Mom…”

“Sometimes I feel like I feel your life more intimately than you do, Faye. Your fears keep me up at night. Your hopes and dreams are my hopes and dreams. I’m watching your journey to happiness, knowing that there will be times when it’s dark with heartache. I want to shield you from it all, and yet I can do nothing but watch as you step into life. As you live it. All the beautiful, ugly parts of it. One day you’ll understand. When you hold your baby in your arms—when you blink, and they’re all grown up. You’ll understand.”

“I hope I’m a mom just like you one day.”

“Oh, baby.” She presses her lips to my hair, inhaling. There’s a tremble to her hug. Emotion bleeds from her into me. “I love you so much.”

28

MARRY YOU ONE DAY

AUGUST 2008 – 16 YEARS OLD

Holt pulls up to the group site next to Ricky’s mom’s minivan. He’s already got the hatch open, and the seats folded down. There’s a full bed made up in the back and Ricky is standing with his hands on his hips, appraising the finished result of his hard work.