She raises her eyebrows and looks me up and down. “You look like you might come home and tell me I’m going to be an older sister.”
I huff and roll my eyes. “I guess I’ll change.”
“You could wear a potato sack and Professor Grabby-hands will still want to make you his newest baby-mama.”
“You take things too far.” I stick my coffee in the microwave, shaking my head.
“I get it from you.”
“That is true.” Spinning around, I peel back the top of the banana and give it to Everly. “Eat. And I would have gone with the black dress, which is a little more conservative, but it’s kinda tight because—”
“It shrunk in the dryer, not because you’ve gained weight,” Everly says at the same time as I do. We both laugh and Everly finally takes a bite of the banana. It’s a bit of a mad dash to finish getting ready and, right as Everly is about to walk out to wait for the bus, she remembers she didn’t pack a lunch for herself today so it’s an even madder dash back into the house to throw together something for her to eat. We’re both vegetarians and Everly went full vegan over a year ago. She’s my tree-hugging, animal-loving, rights-for-everyone daughter and I couldn’t be prouder of that kid.
Thankfully, the bus is running late today, no doubt having gotten stuck by a train, which gives us a minute to stand outside the house together. It took me a long time to get here and moving to Indianapolis wasn’t my first choice. But the animal pharmaceutical company I work for gave a generous moving bonus as well as covering all the costs of hiring movers to take our stuff from my hometown of Naperville, Illinois.
My plan was always to move to a smaller town, somewhere with a lower cost of living and maybe someday I’d even be able to afford a house with land and a barn so I could get a horse of my own again. It was by the grace of God that my parents didn’t make me sell my horse after I told them I was pregnant. The fact that I was able to find someone to lease Phoenix certainly didn’t hurt either. He lived for six more years before getting sick and having to be suddenly put down. I still miss him just as much today as I did when I first lost him.
Everly certainly inherited my love of horses and, for the last several years, all she’s wanted for Christmas or her birthday is money to put towards riding lessons.
“There’s the bus,” I tell Everly, eyeing the group of kids standing on the corner, also waiting for the bus.
“I don’t want to go to school,” Everly says softly. She’s also looking at the group of kids, and it hurts my heart so damn much knowing the reason she doesn’t want to go to school is because she doesn’t have many friends. We’ve been here for nearly a year now, and high school is hard enough when you’re not the new kid. Add in being an outspoken, wise-beyond-your-years kid raised by a single mother, and you’re even more of the odd man out.
She became good friends with one kid in particular right away, but Alma’s family moved to help take care of her elderly grandparents not long ago. Everly insists she has other friends, just not ones she likes enough to hang out with, which makes me wonder if she has other friends at all but doesn’t want me to know.
“The year is almost over,” I tell her, smoothing her dark hair back. “And I was kinda thinking about seeing if Aunt Kim will let us come for a visit this summer.”
“Really?” Everly’s eyes light up. “You can take time off work?”
“Really. I won’t be selling drugs to college students in the summer so that’s not an issue.”
“Mom. You know how it sounds when you talk like that,” she hisses, adjusting her backpack on her shoulders.
“Ah, right. I always forget.” I wink, trying not to laugh, and kiss the top of her head as the bus pulls up. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” She turns, eyes meeting mine for a lingering second before inhaling, straightening her posture, and getting on the bus. Only one other mom comes down to the bus stop like this, and it’s because her son has a tendency to skip school. I give her a wave and head back inside to gather my stuff, make sure our cat, Mr. Meowster, has water, and then head out.
It’s a bit of a drive to get to the university even when traffic isn’t bad. I make it with plenty of time to spare, and slowly make my way to Professor Grabby-hands’ office.
“Ah, Josephine,” he says with a broad smile as soon as I knock on the doorframe. “Come in.”