Black Promises (Blackwoods College)

I moved closer, put my hand on her arm.

“Sweetie,” she said and her voice broke.

I hugged her tightly. She hugged me back, and we both cried.

It was cathartic. I didn’t think it would be—but god, crying with my mom, her arms wrapped around me, for a few minutes I felt like a little girl again. She was my mother, my protector, and I felt so safe. All these years I’d been like an orphan, my safety net ripped out from underneath me, left adrift in life. Even though my parents were alive, I never felt like they were on my side.

For the duration of the hug, I had my mom again.

We broke apart. She wiped my tears, and though I didn’t hate her, I knew we could never be like we were when I was little. That possibility had disappeared a long time ago.

But maybe we could be something else.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know. It’ll be okay.”

“We didn’t realize. I’m so sorry.”

I hugged her one more time before my phone began to ring.

I left her there and grabbed it from the table.

“I’m coming to get you.” Jarrod’s voice was like a balm for my frayed nerves. “Let’s skip class.”

“How’d you do it?” I whispered, moving into the dining room, away from Sam and my mom.

“I have my ways. Go pack a bag.”

“My mom’s a mess. Sam seems like he’s happy though.”

“Good. I hope this helps him.”

“I think it will. I don’t even know what to say to him.”

“Maybe one day, you can tell him the truth. Now go pack a bag. I’ll be at your house in ten minutes.”

“Does Robyn know not to come get me?”

“I already told her.”

“I’ll see you then.” I felt a strange thrill in my chest as I hung up the phone and hurried upstairs.

I threw clothes into a bag. I barely paid attention to what I was grabbing. Enough for a day or two at least. I packed toiletries, hair stuff, whatever I’d need, and made it downstairs with a couple minutes to spare.

“I’m heading out for the weekend,” I said, standing near the front door.

My mom looked over with a frown. She dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “For the weekend?”

“I’m going to stay with Robyn. I just need a little time away.”

Mom nodded. I could tell it hurt, but she didn’t argue. “Have fun. Can we talk when you get back?”

“We can, I promise. I’ll be home Sunday morning.”

I walked out front and stood in the driveway with my bag over my shoulder. I could miss a Friday—I rarely skipped class and one miss wouldn’t be a big deal. I drifted toward the street then stopped.

My dad’s car was idling nearby.

He sat there behind the wheel staring off into the distance. I didn’t move, afraid that he’d see me. I didn’t know what he was doing home—he should’ve been at work. But he just sat there, staring, not moving, the car running, and I wanted to escape, only there wasn’t anywhere to go. Jarrod would be here soon and when he pulled up, Dad would notice, and he wouldn’t be happy.

I walked toward his car and knocked on the window.

He jumped, blinking, and looked at me. He rolled down the window.

“Hey, honey.”

I frowned at him. “What are you doing?”

He laughed awkwardly and looked down at himself like he was only just realizing that sitting in his car in the street looked kind of crazy.

“Thinking.”

“Okay, right. Why are you thinking here?”

He met my eyes. “I heard about Dr. Silver on the news.”

I let that sink in. Silence stretched. I adjusted my bag.

“Mom’s upset,” I said finally. “You should talk to her.”

“I will.”

Another silence. I wanted to scream.

“I’m heading out for the weekend.”

“Okay. I hope you have fun.” No argument. No questions. He stared at me for another few seconds before gripping the steering wheel. He looked away, straight at the road. “We were wrong back then, weren’t we? You didn’t lie.”

“No, Dad, I really didn’t.”

He nodded to himself. “All right. We were wrong.”

If I expected some big, beautiful moment, where my father finally came to me and apologized and begged for forgiveness, it wasn’t going to happen. That much was obvious. His face hardened and his lips flattened, and I knew that was the best I would get.

Jarrod’s truck pulled up and parked nearby. Dad glanced over.

“That’s my ride. I’ll be back Sunday morning.”

“Be safe. Make good choices.”

I watched him carefully. “You’re not going to say anything?”

“Cora, I don’t think I have the right anymore.”

With that, he rolled his window up. I watched him pull out and drive slowly away.

I walked to Jarrod’s truck and got inside. He frowned at me and put a hand on my leg. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “That was really weird. My dad didn’t apologize, but he admitted he was wrong, and said he doesn’t have the right to tell me what to do anymore.”