ask why. I have my manufactured answer, but I know that won’t work with Drake. And maybe, just maybe, if I extend a small branch to him, he’ll give one right back to me. “I want to be a child psychologist.”
The corners of his lips turn up. “So I’m lying with the future Dr. White? What makes you want to do that?”
His smile slips as he watches me struggle to form an answer. It shouldn’t be this hard after all this time but it is. “I want to help children who are hurting, especially the ones who no one else can reach. The ones who bury everything inside so deep that it takes a special person to help them find who they are again.”
“But why do you want to do it?” His voice is low and soothing, like he knows he’s about to get more from me than just an answer to a simple question.
Closing my eyes, I see that day. The day things changed.
My mom has had the old wooden jewelry box sitting on her dresser for as long as I can remember. If I tried to explain it to anyone, it wouldn’t do the box’s beauty justice, but the hand painted pink roses on the top are what draw me in. Pink’s my favorite color, and nothing beats the smell of my grandma’s rose garden. The old box makes me think of so many good things, but I don’t understand why she’s giving it to me today. I know how much she loves it.
It’s not my birthday, and Christmas is months away. The last couple days I haven’t listened to her as well as I should have, picking ripe tomatoes from the garden and sneaking away to eat them. I also snuck into her closet and made a huge mess as I tried on all her high heels. Maybe she’s giving it to me because she wants me to be better.
“Emery, baby, open it up,” she says softly.
I follow her instructions, afraid she’ll change her mind and ask for the box back. As I open it, the welcome smell of cedar hits my nose. Inside is a silver locket with roses etched into it. I recognize it as the one she said grandma gave her when she graduated from high school. She’s only told me the story ten times, and I’ve always hoped she would give it to me when I graduate high school. But I’m only four and that’s a long time away.
“Can I wear it?” I ask, running the cold metal between my fingers.
“Yes, I want you to have it.” A tear slips from her eye, but I didn’t think much of it, not then.
“Why?” I ask curiously.
She shakes her head, using her sleeve to wipe her eyes. “I don’t need it anymore, and I want you to have it.”
“Can I put it on?”
“Why don’t you leave it in there for now so you don’t lose it. Take it on up to your room. I’m going to go run some errands, but Beth is downstairs, and she’s going to watch you.” Beth’s in high school, but she stays with me a lot in the summer when my mom needs a break.
“Okay,” I say, wrapping my arms tightly around her neck. “Thank you, Mommy. I love it.”
“I love you, baby.” Her voice breaks, but at the age of four, things like that don’t send up many warning flags.
As I disappeared up the stairs, I didn’t think it would be the last time I’d see my mom in a long time.
I tell Drake everything. Maybe it’s because we’re tucked away in the dark, and I feel less exposed because he can’t see me. He’s quiet, and I’m grateful he lets me get everything out uninterrupted.
“I’m sorry you didn’t have your mom growing up,” he says when I’m done. His hand still rests on mine, squeezing it every now and then.
“You know, after a while, you learn to adapt. Sometimes I just wonder if I overcompensated.”
“In the end, I think things always work themselves out.”
A breeze blows through, sending a chill down my spine. “Did I tell you what was in the locket?”
He shakes his head, staring at me intently.
I reach my hand under my sweater and pull out the tiny silver heart. I’ve worn it around my neck every day since my mom left me. Opening it, I wait for him to find it with his
The corners of his lips turn up. “So I’m lying with the future Dr. White? What makes you want to do that?”
His smile slips as he watches me struggle to form an answer. It shouldn’t be this hard after all this time but it is. “I want to help children who are hurting, especially the ones who no one else can reach. The ones who bury everything inside so deep that it takes a special person to help them find who they are again.”
“But why do you want to do it?” His voice is low and soothing, like he knows he’s about to get more from me than just an answer to a simple question.
Closing my eyes, I see that day. The day things changed.
My mom has had the old wooden jewelry box sitting on her dresser for as long as I can remember. If I tried to explain it to anyone, it wouldn’t do the box’s beauty justice, but the hand painted pink roses on the top are what draw me in. Pink’s my favorite color, and nothing beats the smell of my grandma’s rose garden. The old box makes me think of so many good things, but I don’t understand why she’s giving it to me today. I know how much she loves it.
It’s not my birthday, and Christmas is months away. The last couple days I haven’t listened to her as well as I should have, picking ripe tomatoes from the garden and sneaking away to eat them. I also snuck into her closet and made a huge mess as I tried on all her high heels. Maybe she’s giving it to me because she wants me to be better.
“Emery, baby, open it up,” she says softly.
I follow her instructions, afraid she’ll change her mind and ask for the box back. As I open it, the welcome smell of cedar hits my nose. Inside is a silver locket with roses etched into it. I recognize it as the one she said grandma gave her when she graduated from high school. She’s only told me the story ten times, and I’ve always hoped she would give it to me when I graduate high school. But I’m only four and that’s a long time away.
“Can I wear it?” I ask, running the cold metal between my fingers.
“Yes, I want you to have it.” A tear slips from her eye, but I didn’t think much of it, not then.
“Why?” I ask curiously.
She shakes her head, using her sleeve to wipe her eyes. “I don’t need it anymore, and I want you to have it.”
“Can I put it on?”
“Why don’t you leave it in there for now so you don’t lose it. Take it on up to your room. I’m going to go run some errands, but Beth is downstairs, and she’s going to watch you.” Beth’s in high school, but she stays with me a lot in the summer when my mom needs a break.
“Okay,” I say, wrapping my arms tightly around her neck. “Thank you, Mommy. I love it.”
“I love you, baby.” Her voice breaks, but at the age of four, things like that don’t send up many warning flags.
As I disappeared up the stairs, I didn’t think it would be the last time I’d see my mom in a long time.
I tell Drake everything. Maybe it’s because we’re tucked away in the dark, and I feel less exposed because he can’t see me. He’s quiet, and I’m grateful he lets me get everything out uninterrupted.
“I’m sorry you didn’t have your mom growing up,” he says when I’m done. His hand still rests on mine, squeezing it every now and then.
“You know, after a while, you learn to adapt. Sometimes I just wonder if I overcompensated.”
“In the end, I think things always work themselves out.”
A breeze blows through, sending a chill down my spine. “Did I tell you what was in the locket?”
He shakes his head, staring at me intently.
I reach my hand under my sweater and pull out the tiny silver heart. I’ve worn it around my neck every day since my mom left me. Opening it, I wait for him to find it with his
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