Page 3 of Between Us

It’s already dark, sharp and perfect. Thx for your concern though!

Before they really start bickering, I type out my reply.

I just finished

Are we meeting at my house or the store?

Margo

Your house

Meera

K I’m grabbing my bag and keys now!

Closing out of my messages and pulling up my music app, a small flash of color catches my attention. When I look up, a smile immediately tugs at my lips.

I’m not surprised when I find a monarch butterfly on my dashboard. Maybe most people would be, but for as long as I can remember, butterflies—especially monarchs—have kind of been my thing.

My mom told me once that my lateabuelosaw monarchs as a sign of better days when he immigrated to the US in his late teens. I never had a chance to meet him, but I like to believe they’re his way of reaching out to me from wherever he is now.

And at this moment? It feels like he’s smiling down on me, like maybe he’s trying to help convince me there’s some truth to Catalina’s words.

There’s so much life to live.

Adrian

Later that evening…

“Can you stop, crazy lady?” I playfully swat my mom’s hand away. Most adults would have a little more decorum in a grocery store but not her.

If anything, it motivates her further. She pretends to lick her thumb then reaches up toward me to rub off a smudge that’s definitely not there. When she still doesn’t stop, I place a hand on her forehead and push her away. She’s only five-foot-two, and I take after my dad meeting his height of six-foot-two, plus a couple extra inches. So, this is my go-to move when she’s being a little maternal pest.

She’s become a helicopter parent for the first time in my life over the last two months. It’s all in good fun, and I know she was soaking in the time we had together before I moved out again.

Butthis? Her only goal is to embarrass me because she’s bored of waiting on my father. It’s not an easy feat though.

We’re both laughing—her almost hysterically. Even though I call her a crazy lady, we both probably look pretty maniacal right now. Especially considering my dad is stoically standing next to us, focused on his phone as he goes through another list of ‘Food All Young Adults Should Have in Their First Apartment.’It doesn’t even matter that this isn’t technically my first apartment. But since it isn’t on a university campus like my last one, and I don’t have any roommates now, they’re treating it like a bigger deal than it feels.

We got to Amada Beach yesterday so they could help me move into my studio apartment before my classes start in a few weeks. It’s a small space so we’re almost done, but my dad insisted on getting groceries for me before they leave tomorrow afternoon. I insisted I could shop for myself, so they could relax for a little bit, but he wasn’t having it.

I’m not going to rain on their parade, especially when they’re gracious enough to help me pay rent while I’m in my Doctor of Veterinary Medicine program. It’s another thing they insist on.

Truthfully, my mom can use her spit to wipe off any smudge, and my dad can scour the internet for every list ever made about the matter. I’m more grateful to them than they may ever know.

As successful nurses, they have a better understanding than most how important these next four years are for me.

The San Diego areaneverwould’ve been my first choice. I don’t care much for the beach, and I had enough of that while going to college in Florida. When I hypothetically think about my future, I’ve never been sure of where exactly I’d like to end up, but I imagined more of an urban city vibe—like Chicago, or even San Francisco.

Growing up, we moved around a lot for my parents’ jobs as travel nurses. So, I’ve been to more than half the states and never would’ve guessed landing in Southern California.

There’s nothing that’s keeping me in Amada Beach forever, but for the next few years, I’m stuck here.

At least the University of California, Aurora Hills has one of the best D.V.M. programs in the country.

As my mom and I settle down to listen to my dad while he turns down an aisle, a body slams into me from the side.

“Oof,” I grunt at the same time a soft, raspy voice lets out a low, “Ohfuck,” as her phone drops between my feet.

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