It Started with Goodbye

Immediately, if not sooner. Please.

I opened the attachments and found several gorgeous shots of Seamus, seated with his cello between his legs, playing my song. The simultaneous pain and joy written on his face in the picture hit me just as hard as it had in person, and I found myself compelled to listen to him playing “Chaconne” on repeat. No longer something to make me cry; the grin never left my face until I fell asleep.




The next morning, I gleefully filled Blanche in on the highlights of the evening, Tilly at my side.

“I don’t know how to repay you. Honestly.” I hugged her just as tightly as I had hugged Ashlyn the night before.

“The smile on your face is enough thanks, Tatum. And you had a good time?” Blanche shifted her gazed between Tilly and me.

“We had an amazing time, Abuela. The music was beautiful. The company was good.” Tilly’s brown eyes sparkled mischievously. “I think Tatum especially liked the view of the piano and cello.”

I dropped my jaw, and she laughed. I smacked her playfully in the arm. “I don’t remember you complaining about the view of the drum kit.”

Tilly gave me a tight-lipped, secretive smile.

Blanche shook her head, amused. “I’m glad it was worth it, Tatum. You deserved it. You too, Matilda. It’s nice to see you girls happy. I think the night off was just what you both needed.”

I hugged her again. “Can you please stay forever?”

She laughed, a silvery tinkle. “I don’t know if my daughter would agree to that. But, I think I could manage more frequent visits.”

“Yes please.”

“And now that I’ve upheld my end of the bargain, you must complete yours.”

I held my breath. My dad would be home soon, and there was no way of getting out of facing my fears. “I know. Think some positive thoughts for me?”

She patted my head. “You’ll be fine.”

Tilly cleared her throat. “Don’t forget, you’re not the only one who has things to share, Tatum.”

I looked over, and our eyes locked. I was glad to not have to jump into the deep end of the pool alone.




Two days later, and my dad’s plane was scheduled to touch down in the late afternoon. I hadn’t slept much the night before, planning out all the things I wanted to say and reviewing them over and over in my head. I hoped I had the courage to calmly and rationally explain how I’d felt when he’d left, and how I was happy with who I was and the decisions I’d made. I wanted to tell him I was proud of how I’d handled the Ashlyn/Chase situation, even if he wasn’t, and I was also proud of how I’d changed this summer. I wanted to tick off the items on my list of things I’d come to appreciate, most importantly about our family, over the last few months. I hoped that my effort to be less of a pain to Belén would be a point in my favor. And I definitely needed to apologize for worrying him, for being rude, and for not staying in contact better while he was gone. When we loaded up the car and drove to Dulles Airport, my entire body was buzzing with anxiety, and it was all I could do not to throw up.

As we parked and got out of the car, I lagged back, waiting for Tilly and Blanche to start walking while Belén fussed with her purse. I told myself that this was my last chance to make things right, or as close to right as they were going to get, before my dad was home. When she finally locked the car, I grabbed her elbow in a move that was either smart or laughable.

“Belén?”

She eyed me with surprise. I couldn’t remember the last time we touched. “Yes, Tatum?”

I gulped and tried to summon every ounce of bravery and humility I had in me. “I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry for being difficult, um, recently. Actually, always. I know you’ve just been looking out for me, and I wasn’t very nice about it.” As I trailed off, her face became unreadable. I held my breath and waited. No matter what she said back to me, even if she ignored my words and walked past me into the terminal, I’d said my piece. The ball was back in her court.

Belén stared at me and stood so still, the only motion was her lungs expanding. And then finally, “Thank you, Tatum. I appreciate you saying that.”

Her tone was cool, making my heart fall to the ground. However, just as I’d noticed when she chastised me for sneaking out to band practice, something else lingered underneath Belén’s polite words. I didn’t expect her to apologize and offer me a warm, motherly hug, but I sensed there was more she wouldn’t—or maybe couldn’t—say.

“Sure,” I mumbled.

Just as I turned to go, Belén reached for my hand, squeezed lightly, then let go and walked confidently toward the airport entrance. My heart bounced back up, and I smiled to myself as I followed.

We resumed a slightly more-comfortable-than-usual silence as we hurried to catch up with Blanche and Tilly, who were studying the arrivals board inside.

To my shock, Belén initiated small talk. “I put a lasagna in the oven for dinner before we left. Do you think your father will be happy with that as his first meal back at home?”

She wanted my opinion? I looked around me to see if pigs with wings were circling my head. Confirming they were not, I said, “Yes, it sounds perfect.”

“Good,” Belén replied. And with that, we rejoined the rest of our family.

When my dad finally pushed through the double doors from immigration, my knees buckled, and I had to grip the metal railing separating family members from arriving passengers to keep from falling down. Blanche, with her never-failing intuition, placed a hand on the small of my back and steadied me. Dad looked just the same, tall and dependable, the man who worked to better the lives of people all around the world. I hoped he’d be able to extend that mission to me.

When he rounded the barrier, Dad wrapped me in his arms, crushing me to his chest. I couldn’t breathe, he was holding me so tight, but I didn’t care. It seemed like a good sign.

“Tatum, honey, I owe you an apology.” I thought I’d misheard him because my ears were mashed against his shirt. He was basically ignoring everyone else and apologizing? “Ashlyn called me yesterday. Said she absolutely had to explain everything before I came home.”

Oh. She had? Mr. Zanotti probably wouldn’t be happy to see a cell phone bill with a call to Africa on it. I mentally high-fived Ash for taking the risk for me.

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