Page 57 of Years in the Making

I’ve got the kids books all read

ready*

Although they also have all been read, which is why they are going with you

I’ll swing by on my way home from my parents

How are you feeling about everything?

Fine

Have you talked to him?

Just a few texts for confirmation purposes

Hot!

I needed three cold showers after the one exchange

I bet you did

“Lunch is ready, my loves,” Dad calls from the kitchen.

It’s not until I’m walking towards the deck that I notice how clean the house is. “Did you two do a full decluttering while getting the books together?” I watch my parents have a silent conversation and start to get nervous. “Is someone dying?” I ask, half joking but half terrified of the answer.

“Oh lord no.” Mom laughs. “But we do have some news.”

“Are you selling?” They have talked about selling the house and moving somewhere a bit smaller for a while, but this feels sudden.

“Not exactly,” Dad says, looking at Mom as if looking for permission to continue. When she nods he does. “We’re moving to the Philippines for a couple of years.”

This was the last thing I expected him to announce. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, after retiring last December, I’ve been, well, bored. Caleb casually mentioned that if we were interested in a change of scenery, he may be able to help with the boredom.” He’s not looking at me while he goes on to tell me about the work Caleb and his team have been doing for various endangered birds. My father wouldn’t need much more convincing than that. “Also, this way your mother can do a proper book tour in Australia and New Zealand. Her latest comes out downthere in two months.” He reaches over and squeezes Mom’s hand, and I silently watch the interaction.

I’ve had my parents nearby my entire life. This is a chance for my sister to have some more of their time. Although she’s the one who moved away, not me.

“Are you going to say something, chickadee?” Dad asks.

“Sorry, I’m just in shock. When are you leaving?”

They do the silent conversation again, and I feel my anxiety begin to spike. “Well, in two weeks.”

“Two… As in fourteen days from now?”

“Twelve days, actually.” Dad winces.

“Twelve days!” I shriek, unable to contain the sudden burst of emotion. “I’m leaving in three. I’m going to be away when you leave. I won’t get to say goodbye to you.” I suddenly feel like a child on the verge of a tantrum.

“We’ll come up to you the morning you leave.”

“I’m going up to Marley’s the night before I leave.” I pout.

“Then we’ll come up and see you off the night before. Regardless, Cornelia, we will have a proper goodbye even if at the time we are both still in the country.”

“And,” my dad adds excitedly, “you can come have a nice Christmas in paradise with your whole family.”

The idea of spending Christmas with palm trees and an ocean breeze may sound appealing to some people, but I am not one of them. However, if it means being with my family over the holidays then I can probably suck it up.

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