“Hey, guys,” Miles said, stepping aside to let them in. “It’s good to see you.”
Instead of welcoming them, Jude crossed her arms and glanced out at her garden.
Prickly, ugly weeds grew everywhere. Her once-beloved plants seemed to be climbing over one another in a rush to leave their confinement.
“Jude?”
Jude blinked and saw Molly standing beside her. Had she been talking? “I’m sorry,” she said. “Senior moment. What did you say?”
Molly and Miles exchanged worried glances.
“Come on, honey,” Molly said, putting an arm around her.
Jude let her friend sweep her up like a warm tide and carry her into the front room, where a Good luck, Zach banner hung across the mantel. Miles put music on the stereo, but at the first song—Sheryl Crow singing “The First Cut Is the Deepest”—he snapped it off and turned on the television instead. The Seahawks were playing football.
One by one, Zach’s friends filed into the house. They took up space, these boys and girls she’d known for so long. She’d been with most of them since kindergarten. She’d fed them and driven them to and from events and even occasionally advised them. Now, like Zach, they were getting ready to leave the safety of the island and go off to college.
Minus one.
Miles came up beside Jude, touched her arm. “Is he going to come down?”
She looked up at him, and in his eyes she saw the same thought that dogged her: the old Zach would never have been late to his own party. “He said he would. I’ll go get him,” she said.
She nodded and left, realizing too late that she’d just walked away from Molly. She should have excused herself.
Honestly, it was hard to remember things like that these days.
At Zach’s closed door, she reached into her pocket—always full now of aspirin—and she chewed one. The terrible taste actually helped.
Then she knocked on the door.
There was no answer, so she knocked again, harder, and said, “I’m coming in.”
He was slumped in his gaming chair, wearing headphones and wielding a controller like a fighter pilot. On the TV screen in front of him, a remarkably realistic tank rolled down a barren hillside, gun blazing.
She touched his head, gave it a little scratch.
He leaned into her hand, and she wondered how long it had been since she’d touched him. With that thought came the loss again, the grief and the guilt. “What you doing?”
“Trying to beat this level.”
“Your friends are here … to say good-bye,” she finally said.
“Yeah,” he said, sighing.
“Come on,” she said.
They went downstairs together, saying nothing.
In the living room, there was a moment of silence as they entered, awkward and uncomfortable. How could this ever be a celebration, really? Then Zach’s friends came up him, smiling uncertainly, talking quietly.
Jude stood back. She was trying like hell to stay present, to stay in this moment that mattered to her son, but it hurt so much. She should have expected it, should have known she couldn’t celebrate Zach’s journey to college—to USC—without also mourning the fact that he was going alone.
She stayed as long as she could, smiled more than she would have thought possible; she even cut the cake and asked Miles to make a toast, but long before the day turned to early evening, she slipped down the hallway and hid in her dark office.
How could she go to USC, say good-bye to her son and not be overwhelmed with grief? USC was Mia’s school—everyone knew that. Her bedroom walls were studded now with red and gold USC paraphernalia. The worst part （which she would never admit to anyone） was that she wanted him gone. Every time she looked at him, she broke all over again. Without him, she could just do nothing. Be nothing.
Feeling shaky, she went to the sofa and sat down. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe.
“You can run, but you can’t hide,” someone said, and the lights came on.
Molly stood there, holding a plate of lemon bars. She took one look at Jude and rushed to the couch, sitting down beside her. “Breathe, honey. In and out. In and out.”
“Thanks,” Jude said when the panic subsided.
“I don’t want to set you off again, but your mother’s looking for you.”
“Reason enough to hide out.”
“I don’t know what to say to you anymore, Jude. But I’m here. You know that, right?”
“I know it.”
Molly’s gaze was steady, worried. “You can call me anytime … I know how hard it will be on you when Zach is gone.”