Eight Hundred Miles Away Was the Closest I Ever Felt to Home Chapter 02
After Piper’s acceptance party, our household went into full–scale preparation mode.
Every dinner conversation revolved around Jefferson STEM, the apartment Mom and Dad planned to rent nearby, and the healthy meals Mom intended to cook for Piper.
One weekend morning, Dad’s excited voice carried from the living room.
“Honey, what do you think of this apartment? It has two bedrooms, comes fully furnished, and is in a complex right across from Jefferson STEM. It’s only a ten–minute walk. Piper can come straight home after school to rest, and it’ll be easier for us to take care of her.”
Mom leaned over to study the screen of his tablet and nodded eagerly.
“This one’s nice. It gets plenty of natural light. But
we’ll need to replace the mattress in Piper’s room with something firmer. Her neck acts up if she sleeps on anything too soft.”
“Is the kitchen big enough? These next four years are
critical. I need enough room to cook her healthy meals every day. A cramped kitchen won’t work.”
They sat on the couch, discussing every detail with the intensity of people planning a multimillion–dollar project.
I walked right past them, and Dad did not even look up.
“The rent isn’t cheap, though. It’s twenty–eight hundred a month.”
Dad hesitated, apparently running the numbers in his head.
Mom made the decision without a second thought.
“We’re renting it. Even if we have to cut back on everything else, Piper’s education comes first.
Besides, we can afford it. Mara can stay here by herself. She’ll be a senior next school year, and she can study
anywhere. This old place is quiet.”
I stopped in the shadow of the hallway.
So I did not exist anywhere in their plans.
“True.”
Dad nodded and finally glanced at me.
“Mara, did you hear that? We’re moving at the beginning of next month. You’re going into senior year, so you’re old enough to manage on your own. You’ve always been the easy one. Keep it that way, and don’t give us anything else to worry about.”
I did not argue.
“Okay,” I said quietly.
May 15 was an otherwise ordinary Tuesday.
My phone rang. It was the FedEx courier.
“Is this Mara Keaton? Your university packet is here. Come downstairs with a photo ID so you can sign for it.”
I hung up and raced downstairs without even changing out of my house slippers.
When I accepted the thick navy presentation envelope embossed with the university’s silver seal, my hands began to tremble despite my efforts to steady them.
I opened the envelope. Inside was an elegant acceptance letter.
My name was printed clearly on it, along with Calder University–the name of one of the country’s most selective schools.
Back upstairs, I placed the admission packet in the exact center of the living room coffee table, where no one could possibly miss it.
Some tiny, ridiculous part of me was still hoping.
I wanted to see how they would react when they found it.
At four that afternoon, the front door opened.
Mom and Dad came home with Piper, their arms loaded with shopping bags.
“Oh, I’m exhausted. It’s way too hot outside.”
Mom complained as she kicked off her sandals, then dropped two shopping bags directly onto the coffee table.
By sheer coincidence, the bottom of one bag landed squarely on the navy admission envelope.
“Mara! Get out here and put the new bedding in the washer!” Mom shouted from the foyer.
I stood at the corner of the hallway, staring at the clutter piled on the coffee table.
At that moment, the last flicker of hope inside me went out.
I walked over, calmly pushed the bags aside, and pulled out the admission packet.
Mom glanced at it and frowned.
“What is that, some kind of flyer? Throw it away. We’re taking Piper out for sushi tonight, so make yourself a grilled cheese for dinner. You’re going into senior year. Stop buying junk food when you’re out.”
“Okay,” I said.
I said nothing else. I returned to my room and carefully tucked the admission packet into the very back of my bottom drawer.