I knew if I told her everything, she’d have spent all her energy trying to help me navigate my feelings, instead of concentrating on navigating her own. I will tell her eventually, but the more time passes since Dad’s visit, the more my willingness to share decreases. Every day I don’t get a cash app request, it feels a little less urgent and, when being honest with myself, I still don’t think I’m truly ready.
Aurora loves when I share. I love making Aurora happy. Wanting to give her what she wants because I’d give her everything if I could, is not the same as being ready.
I know one day I’ll feel comfortable enough to talk about all my dad’s issues with her. Now I’ve had time to process his visit, there’s a tiny shred of hope growing in me that he might be about to turn things around. I trust now that Aurora would never judge me, but it’s a lot to cope with, even as an outsider and I’d rather talk to her about it when I know what’s going to happen. If nothing’s going to change, I want to know that instead of being embarrassed when I share my hope and he lets me down.
My family is such a huge emotion burden and I just want to save her from that, especially after she’s worked so hard over the past couple of months.
She says, for her, this summer was about making choices for the right reasons and choosing to go to the wedding because she wants to be at an important family event is her right reason. It isn’t a kneejerk reaction, it isn’t derived from hurt feelings or bad choices, she wants to go.
If she decided she doesn’t want to go, she doesn’t have to, because she’s in control.
I can’t bring myself to remind her that one conversation with him had her spiralling, ready to pack up and leave. I want her to do the thing that makes her happy and she’s an adult who can make her own decisions, but I think that she’s going out of fear of closing the door on their relationship and not because she actually thinks their relationship is salvageable.
But, saying all of this would make me a hypocrite, so I tell her I’m proud of her and that I’ll be there for her, no matter what.
It’s going to be weird being so far away from her while she’s at the wedding. I’m heading to JJ’s in San Jose for his official housewarming party and, as much as I wish she was coming with me, I’m excited to hang out with everyone.
Aurora has learned more in these last couple of months than my friends have learned in years and I feel better every day simply because I have her. Even if Dad does get better and stop the gambling—and hopefully the drinking too—it’s going to take time for me to work through the years of embarrassment.
And I’m grateful that I’m not going to be alone when I start that journey.
Chapter Thirty-Four
AURORA
There’s a sad atmosphere in the air as kids march past the window in the direction of the camp bus.
Orla runs departure day like a well-oiled machine with scheduled pickups to ensure everything is as organized as possible. It’s emotional to say goodbye to people you’ve been with for over two months; I would spend the last day in tears, usually clinging to Jenna when I was in the Hedgehogs . . . maybe the Brown Bears, Foxes and Raccoons too.
Thankfully, our kids seem to be more mature than little me and, although they’re sad, most of them are excited to see their families. This morning was a circus as we made sure everything had been packed into the right bags and suitcases ready to be collected. I’m happy to be kept busy because while they might be ready to go, I’m not ready to say goodbye to my gang who I’ve successfully kept alive and mostly free from injury.
If I think about the fact they’re not going to be around tonight I might start crying.
Freya and Sadia are cutting off the circulation to my legs as they both perch on my thighs, wiggling around to get a good view at Emilia’s cellphone screen as we wait for the Brown Bears turn to be collected.
Poppy is showing us Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament and the girls are enthralled. They both know Emilia’s girlfriend has a surprise for her, but they don’t know what and they’re super excited. Trusting two small children with a secret is like trusting the guys to be around when someone’s sick or there’s a blocked toilet—a terrible idea.
The rest of the campers are outside playing flag football with the guys, but Emilia and I are tired after working the nightshift with twenty overstimulated kids last night.
I’ve been excited for this reveal for weeks, since I was the one who organized it. I know how much Emilia has missed Poppy this summer and I’m certain there were points when she was playing her millionth game of tetherball, dealing with homesick kids and trying to work out if there’s an animal in the kids cabin, when she wished she’d gone to Europe too.