She’d called him that morning, but he hadn’t answered. Feeling lonelier than ever, Ari had wandered into her dad’s room, picking up his favorite cologne and squirting a little into the air. As she’d glanced around his bedroom, she’d realized how bare it was of anything familial. Derek’s parents had died when he was eighteen, leaving him all alone in the world. Ari guessed that’s why he saw nothing wrong in leaving her alone. He didn’t mind the alone time, so he probably didn’t realize how much she minded it. There weren’t any photographs of her grandparents, nothing to give her any kind of connection to her lost family, and her dad never talked about them. He didn’t talk about a lot of stuff. Her eyes had fallen to the one photograph in the room, sitting on his bedside table. It was a picture of the two of them, hugging outside Disney world the summer she turned ten. They’d gone with Michelle, who had taken the photograph of them.
It had suddenly struck Ari as she stood there in a conservative white dress her dad would have loved, her hair pulled back in a French braid, pearls he’d bought for her sixteenth wrapped around neck, that she would be all alone at graduation. There would be no grandparents. No father.
No mother.
She’d never allowed herself to want a mother… but that morning, in that dress, getting ready to graduate, Ari realized how wonderful it would have been to have her mother there. She saw how Rachel was with her mom. They were as close as two people could be. They told each other everything.
Shaken at the out-of-the-blue yearning that had taken hold of her, Ari had fled from the room, hurrying downstairs to wait on the Duffs.
“Let me take a picture of just Rachel and Ari,” Mrs. Duff said. She’d been grinning non-stop for over an hour. Her good mood was infectious and Ari wrapped an arm around Rachel’s waist, pulling the shorter girl close for a photograph that would forever capture that one moment of contentedness on this momentous day. “Beautiful.” Mrs. Duff nodded, putting the camera down for the first time.
“My family’s ready to leave,” Staci said, sweeping over in her cap and gown, A.J. trailing at her back. She smiled sweetly at the Duffs. “Are you ready?”
The two families, plus Ari and A.J., were gathering together for a graduation lunch at Nellie’s on Main Street, the best burger place in Sandford Ridge. Staci’s mom wanted to go somewhere a little more upmarket, but the teens won the vote.
“Sure,” Mrs. Duff began. “Let me—”
Ari winced as her loud ringtone interrupted Mrs. Duff. “Sorry.” She pulled her cell out and answered at the sight of her caller ID. “Dad,” she chirped into the phone, so glad he hadn’t forgotten.
“Hey, sweetheart. Congratulations on graduating and happy birthday.”
“Thanks, Dad. We’re just going to lunch. Wish you were here.”
“Me too, kid.” He sighed heavily. “You got everything you need?”
The question sparked a riot of questions and longings. It was like graduation had flipped a switch inside her. Ari felt a wicked slice of pain across her chest and she took a deep breath, wandering away from her friends as she replied, “I don’t know.”
Sensing her tone, her father’s own grew clipped. “What’s happened? What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I mean…” she glanced around, feeling lightheaded as she prepared to tell him. “I… just… I’ve been thinking about Mom today. Isn’t that weird?”
Derek exhaled. “Ari, she’s not your mom. She’s your mother and she left you. She has no right to this day.”
But you do! Where are you?
“I know. I just… it would have been nice to have family here.”
“Ari, are you trying to make me feel guilty? Because I already feel bad about missing your graduation.”
“No.” She trembled, trying to control the anger that built under her skin. She felt so off balance. One minute she had been fine… the next… she was this. “I was asking about my mother, that’s all, Dad. I just wanted to know what she was like.”
“Why now? It doesn’t make a difference. You’re eighteen, you’ve gotten through life without her and you’ve never wanted her before and you certainly don’t need her now—”
“Dad—”
“I gotta go. Have a great birthday. I’ll speak to you soon.”
“Dad—”
The line went dead and Ari pulled the cell from her ear, shocked. She was still staring at it when Staci appeared before her, her dark eyes warm with concern. “You okay?”
Ari nodded shakily, trying to force a smile.
“Oh, Ari…” Staci reached out a comforting hand. “Forget about your dad. We’re here. Today we’re your family.”
It had been two years since Ari last cried. The last time had been at Mike’s funeral. Since then, she’d sort of decided that tears were only for when something hurt so much it changed you deep inside. Today she wanted to cry. But she wouldn’t. It had hurt… but she’d get through it.