Tonight the Streets Are Ours

“Lindsey, honey, it’s so good to see you!” says Arden’s mother as she reaches the girls.

Lindsey shoots Arden an inquiring look. Like, What is your mom doing here, is this okay, do I have permission to show that I’m happy to see her? Arden gives her the slightest of nods, and Lindsey squeals, “Mrs. Huntley, oh my God! How are you doing? I can’t believe you’re actually living in New York. Do you love it?”

Arden’s mom laughs. Her cheeks are glowing. “It’s different from Cumberland, that’s for sure! It’s an adventure.”

“I’m so jealous,” Lindsey tells her. “I would kill to live here.”

Arden wonders what exactly Lindsey has seen of the city in the past sixteen hours to make her feel this way, but she doesn’t want to ask in front of her mother. She says, “I thought you wanted to work on a farm.”

“I do,” Lindsey says.

“That’s, like, the opposite of living in New York City,” Arden points out.

Lindsey shrugs. “I can do both, someday.”

Arden reflects on how ironic it is, Lindsey’s blithe confidence in the longevity of her life, even though she seems to be constantly risking everything for something shiny dangling right in front of her.

“I want to go to college here,” Lindsey tells Arden’s mom. “I’ve decided.”

“Maybe you girls can come back and we can all visit some colleges in the city together,” Arden’s mother says. She hesitates and looks at her daughter. “If you want to, that is. And if I’m still here.”

Arden thinks for a moment about letting her mother back into her life, even if it’s just in this way. “Yeah,” she says at last. “I do want to.”

Her mother nods, her eyes soft. Then she clears her throat and focuses on the car. “Let’s see what we have here. Good God, Arden, this car looks even worse than I remember it. No wonder it broke down.” She shakes her head. “Key, please.”

Arden hands over the key and watches as her mother gets into the driver’s seat, puts the key in the ignition, and turns it.

The Heart of Gold roars to life.

“It’s working!” Arden cries.

“Oh, I fixed it,” Lindsey says, looking up from her bag.

“You did what?” Arden and her mother both stare at Lindsey. “I’ve really missed a lot since last night. You’re an auto mechanic now?” Arden asks.

“No. I got someone to look at it this morning. They said there was something wrong with the car…” Lindsey trailed off.

“Well, clearly,” Arden said.

“No, the carburetor. I just forgot the word. Anyway, they did some stuff, and it should be fine now.” Lindsey shrugs. “So are we going to drive home?”

Arden’s mother answers for her. “If you’re going to be driving in this contraption, then yes, starting as soon as possible is a good idea. You have a long trip ahead of you, and I do not want you speeding. Keep to the slow lane, and don’t go over sixty miles an hour, Arden, do you hear me? And take a break if you start to feel tired.”

Arden does hear her, and she knows this is all wise advice, so she will follow it—but there’s something sad, too, in hearing these words from her mother, because it’s clear to them both that her mother has given up her right to tell Arden what to do. At least for now. You can leave, of course—you can always leave—but then you have to deal with the consequences.

Arden and her mother exchange a long hug. “I love you,” her mother says.

And Arden believes her.

The two girls get in the car, set up the GPS, and drive away. “You will reach your destination in six hours, two minutes,” says the GPS.

“Man, school tomorrow is going to be rough,” Lindsey comments.

“So tell me what happened to you last night!” Arden bursts out. “And why didn’t you respond to any of my texts?”

“My phone died, obviously. Speaking of, do you have a charger in your car? I need to call my parents. I missed church. They’re probably freaking out.”

“They are,” Arden says. “I know they talked to my dad.”