Harry threw his boxers into the bag and tried to pay attention to Mom, who was sitting wrapped up in the big chair. Supervising with a list. She used to give Dad a hard time about lists, but she was a list maker, too.
He chucked in the pair of backup shoes she’d insisted he take. He’d be gone three days. Why would he need a second pair of shoes? “In case anything happens to the first,” Mom had said. Nope. Didn’t get it. His elbow flapped; his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth.
Mom sighed an overly dramatic sigh. “Shoes and heavy stuff should go on the bottom, sweetheart. Do you have your meds?”
“Meds! Right. Knew I forgot something.”
Mom groaned.
Was Max here yet? Would Sammie miss him? How much would she miss him? Flash thought to the unopened box of condoms hidden in his bathroom.
“Nervous?” she said.
“A bit.” He cleared his throat. Telling the absolute truth would make everything worse. Shitstorm worse. Panic-attack worse.
“If you get anxious at the gate, you’ll text me, right?”
“Yup!” Lots of bravado crammed into that one word. Lots! “Ready for my swashbuckling adventure.” If I don’t throw up my breakfast first.
Mom twizzled her wedding band. “And if you get anxious on the runway, do the same. Even if they’ve told you to turn off your phone.”
Another big, fake smile. “You told me this already, Mom.”
“And don’t forget to go to the bathroom before they start boarding.”
Okay, enough. “Mom, I’m not a little kid anymore.”
“Sorry, I’m turning into such a ninny.”
“I can do this, Mom.” Double thumbs-up.
“I know. You’ll have a wonderful time, and Dad and I will be nervous wrecks.”
Somehow he doubted that last part—about Dad. Although Max was right. Dad wasn’t so bad these days. And it was a helluva lot easier dealing with him over the trip. Mom fussed about every little detail, made him twice as anxious.
Harry tossed in his black jeans. “I love you, Mom. And I’ll be fine. Stuff never freaks me out when old Maxi’s around.”
Max never fussed. Hallelujah!
Mom’s smile was as convincing as Dad acting out exuberance. “This is a huge step for you.” She twisted her hands together. Around and around, like she was trying to create knots.
She doesn’t think I can do it.
“I promise if anything goes wrong, even the slightest hiccup, I’ll call home.” Harry switched to his Darth Vader voice. “I’m off to fulfill my destiny.” He paused. “But I’ll worry about you the whole time.” What if something happened to her while he was gone?
“I’ll worry about you, too. That’s what mothers do.” Mom tugged her little-old-lady cardigan around her shoulders. “Time for a pact—neither of us will worry about the other one.”
“Most excellent plan.” Harry threw in his toothbrush.
“Uh, no.” Mom sounded more Mom-ish than she had in weeks. “Put it in a Ziploc bag, Harry.” She nodded at the pile of plastic bags Dad had left out.
Dad stuck his head around the door. “Can we speed it up? Max just arrived.” He stared at the half-packed suitcase. “You do realize he’s just going to dump it all in on the way home, Ella, which makes the packing lesson utterly pointless.” He turned to Harry. “Money. Credit card. Phone charger. Do you have your photo ID?”
“Check, check, and check.” Harry pulled out his new wallet and waved his learner’s permit.
Dad scooped up the remaining clothes, put them in the bag, smoothed them out, zipped it up. “Let’s go.”
“Bye, Mom!” Harry darted at Mom and kissed her cheek quickly. Then he grabbed his travel backpack, the one he always took to England because it was superlight and squishable and could go under any airplane seat and still leave him tons of leg room, and ran after Dad.
“Wait, Dad!”
“What?” Dad turned with his Medusa stare.
“Do you think I can do this?”
“Pack a bag in a logical manner?”
“No. Get on a plane by myself and fly to Boston.”
“You’re not flying by yourself. You’ll have Max.”
“That’s right, dude!” Max called out from the living room.