I sit down next to her. “I’m going to miss you.”
She throws her little arms around my neck and gives me a strangling hug, which makes me cry more.
“Don’t be scare-wed,”
Ivery joins the hug. “Why you scared, Kiki? You’re going on an adventure!”
Mom and Tommy say that every trip they go on is an adventure, so the girls will be excited about them.
“Because I'm going by myself.”
“Wait!!” Ivery says. “I know what will help!”
She tears off towards her room and comes running back waving a glittery green Tinker Bell wand. It's her favorite thing in the world. She keeps it hidden in her drawer, so the other girls can't play with it.
She thrusts it into my hand. “Take Tink. If you get scared, just wish upon a star and it will be okay.”
“I can't take this, sweetie. It's your favorite.” Plus I already wished on a birthday candle, and look where that got me.
“Tink wants to go with you, since you won’t have Mommy and Daddy.”
I want to start bawling, but I’m trying so hard not to. I need to be the brave girl my sisters think I am.
Avery and Emery join the hug and not wanting to be outdone, Avery declares, “We have presents too.”
She gallops back with her red glitter purse in hand. She unzips it and fishes around for the purple glitter magic marker that she always keeps tucked inside whichever purse she's carrying. “Here! You can write with it!”
Emery gives me a rock that she's colored on. She whispers in my ear. “You can smash people’s fingers with it when they’re mean.”
I laugh out loud at that.
Gracie sneaks into the kitchen, goes to whatever secret hiding place she knows, and brings me two Hershey kisses. She drops them in my hand. “One for Kiki. One for Kiki new fwend.”
If only it were still that easy. Sit next to someone, give them a kiss, and be best friends forever.
Gracie squints her little eyes at me. I can tell she just thought of something else.
She runs to the pantry, runs back to me, and drops another kiss in my hand. Then she says, “Gweysie your fwend too.” She quickly takes the kiss and eats it.
“We need to get going, honey,” Mom says gently.
I give each of the girls one more big hug. They haven't even realized anything is different. Traveling has always been a part of their lives.
James gives me a bear hug. “Take care of yourself and remember what we talked about. Don’t ignore your fear. Always listen to it. Use your head and don’t take any chances.” Then he gets choked up and shakes his head. “I should be going with you.”
“We already talked about that. If you went, people would wonder why. I’ll be fine, I promise.” I whisper in his ear. “Keep the girls safe.” He nods and gives me another hug.
We try not to make too big of a scene for the girls’ sakes.
Mom said she couldn’t watch me say good-bye to everyone. She’s already in the car.
It’s a long flight, but we watch a recent comedy that helps take all our minds off the inevitable. Marcus, Tommy’s assistant, Garrett, and a four-man security crew are traveling with us. Tommy has a private plane. Flying with four kids under the age of five is tough enough without having to fly commercial. Add the fact that they are photographed practically every time they try to take a pee and, well, you can see why a private jet is a must. Normally I complain that the jet is a flying toy box.
Today, I miss the toys.
When the movie is over, Mom asks, “So, you and Brook okay?”
“Yes. No. Sorta. I don’t know, Mom. I didn’t tell you, but I broke up with him at the party, and I was going to start dating Cush again.”
“I see you brought the boots he gave you.”
“I feel really bad I didn’t get to explain things to him, but I brought the boots because they remind me of who I want to be. I’m embarrassed to say that when I started high school I had very superficial goals. I don’t know how long I’ll be there, but I’m doing things differently this time.”
“How so?”
I chuckle. “My old goals were to dress for success and always look perfect. I wanted to be popular and date the cutest and most popular boy.”
Mom smiles. “Honey, those are most girls’ goals. Everyone wants to be liked. To be popular. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Being liked is fine. I want people to like me, but I don’t want to be popular. I’m going to make true friends. I’m not going to be a bitch or be fake, and I’m definitely not falling in love.” And, I don’t tell her this, because she’s a hopeless romantic, but I’m also going to take Vanessa’s advice: I’m going to stop following my heart and start listening to my head.
“You can’t control when you’ll fall in love.”
I ignore her comment because hell yes I can. And I will.
“And I’m going to stay alive,” I add.