Page 5 of Between Us

I know some people have horrible neighbors, and we definitely have had some bad ones throughout the years we moved around for their jobs. But Mr. and Mrs. Lewis are among some of the best we’ve had.

Even if they tend to have a habit of subconsciously seeing it as a competition for the best kept yard. They’re like eighty years old, retired, and bored as hell. Plus, Mrs. Lewis makes the best peanut brittle for Christmas.

And from the long, dramatic sigh my mom takes at the end of her rant, we both know she’s just restless. This always happens when they’ve been in one place for too long. My dad has moved into the educational field now, but they’ve always loved travel nursing more than anything. Especially Mom.

I grew up moving around a lot, until high school. But even when we were at our house in Bakersfield, Mom would do flight nursing. She’s always said she likes not getting too comfortable in one job—being thrown into a new environment and having to adapt to someone else’s routine. It’s thrilling to her.

Whereas I think Dad enjoyed the different learning opportunities, and new facilities, more than the adventure part of it.

I grew up seeing my parents as basically the closest thing to real-life superheroes, and I had a happy childhood. Thehappiest. But I’ve known since I was younger that when I grew up, I’d want the stability they never craved.

We all know the only reason they’ve stayed in California for the last few months is because I graduated with my bachelor’s degree in May and they wanted to be with me when I moved here, to Amada Beach.

Which is exactly why I suggest, “Why don’t you take an assignment for the rest of the year somewhere? I know you’re itching to do something other than flight nursing right now.” I shrug even though she can’t see it. “Plus, there’s still a few states you haven’t been to yet.”

“Only nine,” she mindlessly comments. But I can tell she’s thinking about it. “Are yousureyou’d be okay with that?”

That makes me pause and I fall down onto my couch. “Yeah, of course I’m sure, Mom. Why aren’t you?”

She’s quiet for a second before she finally admits what’s been on her mind. “I think I’ve just been feeling guilty. This time you aren’t across the country, but only a few hours from us. And before, my assignments were more than likely closer to you.”

“So?” I probe, feigning confusion.

I’d never tell my mom this, especially now, but I was sad as fuck when they left. It does feel weirdly different this time than when I moved out for undergrad. There’s this unspoken understanding that I’ll probably never live in my parents’ house again.

“You’re out there in San Diego alone. And I just want to make sure we’re here if you need anything.”

“Mom,” I draw out, appreciating her concern, even if it isn’t necessary. “This is a huge part of who you are—and one that’s inspired who I am today. I’ve never wanted you to stop on my account.”

“I know,” she quickly confirms.

“I’m even closer to Grammy and Pop now, so I’ll be with them as often as I can. And a three hour plane ride is just as easy, if noteasier, for me than a car ride.”

She doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and I can feel her resolve starting to crack.

Good.

“Maria will still be here, if there was an emergency…” she reminds me, but it’s for herself. My godmother Maria is my mom’s oldest friend, practically family since their dads were also best friends. She’s always treated me as more than her godson, and I’ve had my own room at her house since I was about twelve.

“True,” I agree, hoping to further encourage her. “Plus, if I get this job, I won’t have a lot of time off between that and my courses. So,please, do what you and Dad want, and don’t worry about me.”

“We’ll always worry about you,” she chastises affectionately.

“You know what I mean.” Rolling my eyes, I kick off my shoes and grab the protein shake from the gym bag at my feet.

After a quiet moment, she finally says, “I’ll talk to your dad. But let’s talk about this interview! It’s a big step, bub.”

Nodding to myself, I take another drink, buying time to figure out how I’m feeling. “I think I feel good about it. If it’s meant to happen, then it will.”

It’s kind of cliche, sure, but it’s been my motto throughout life. And it hasn’t proven me wrong yet.

This interview feels different. I saw the veterinary assistant job posting the night before I moved to Amada Beach. I stayed up later than I had planned, revising my resume and adding my new degree. Dr. Timothy Miller, the owner and lead veterinarian of the animal hospital, called me about thirty minutes after my parents left my new apartment.

Dr. Miller’s call was a pleasant surprise and gave me something to look forward to. When he said he wanted to be transparent ahead of time about the hours he was expecting and the hourly pay, it was better than anything I would’ve expected.

“Good, you’re going to do great. But just remember, your dad and I don’t mind helping cover what the loans and grants don’t. So if—and it definitely will—butifit doesn’t work out, don’t pressure yourself to find another job.”

“Thanks, Mom.” She’s not quiet about the fact she’d rather I didn’t work while finishing my education. She understands having to balance work, school, and life. I know my parents have worked hard to make sure I don’t have to worry about that. It’s a conversation we’ve had multiple times, yet I can’t put into words how grateful I am. Not that they’ve let me when I’ve tried.

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