Chapter 13
The drive from Vermont to Boxford took a little over three hours.
She would bring a suitcase and some books but she would need more depending on her stay.
The phone call to her mother had been difficult.
“Call me when you get there,” Eve had said. “And call me tonight. And tomorrow.”
“I'll call you,” Emily had promised. “But not every day. That would be excessive.”
“It's not excessive. It's motherly concern.”
“Those are often the same thing.”
Eve had laughed at that, a watery sound that meant she was trying not to cry.
“I'll be fine,” she said. “Beth will take care of me.”
“I know she will. I just wish I could take care of you myself.”
“You have. For twenty-four years. Now it's time for me to take care of myself.”
The last thing Emily heard was her mother saying goodbye through tears she tried to hide.
Now Emily headed south with a mixture of excitement and anxiety.
But Boxford wasn't scary in itself. It was farms and orchards and the smell of earth. It was a different world, one Emily would learn to understand.
Her phone buzzed with a text, and she glanced at it at the next red light. Her mother.
I love you. Drive safe.
Emily typed back: I love you too. I'm being safe.
She set the phone down and continued driving, letting her mind wander the way it often did on long drives.
She thought about the farm, about the orchard she had seen in pictures and video calls but never visited in person.
She thought about Beth, huge with twins, waiting for her to arrive.
She thought about the life she was leaving behind in Hull and the life she was driving toward.
It was terrifying. And exciting. And necessary, in a way she couldn't quite articulate.
She had spent too long drifting, too long searching for a place where she fit.
College had been manageable, the structure and clear expectations suiting her need for predictability.
But after graduation, everything had fallen apart.
Job interviews were torture chambers of small talk and eye contact and questions she never knew how to answer.
The few jobs she had managed to get had ended badly, her differences misunderstood, her directness interpreted as rudeness.
Her mother had supported her through all of it, financially and emotionally.
Eve had never made Emily feel like a burden, had never suggested that her struggles were her own fault.
But Emily knew the toll it took. The worry lines on her mother's face.
The way Eve's eyes followed her when she thought Emily wasn't looking.
The hovering that had intensified after the kidney transplant, as if Eve was afraid that Emily might shatter if she looked away for even a moment.
The transplant had been two years ago, but Eve still treated her like she was fragile. Still called every day to ask about her medications, her energy levels, her doctor appointments. Still worried every time Emily caught a cold or mentioned feeling tired.
It was love. Emily knew that. But it was also suffocating, in a way that made her feel like she would never be allowed to grow up, never be trusted to manage her own life.
Beth's offer had felt like a lifeline. A chance to prove, to herself and to everyone else, that she was capable of independence. That she could contribute something meaningful. That she was more than her diagnosis and her medical history.
But telling her mother had been hard.
Emily had explained Beth's invitation. The farm, the orchard, the babies. The chance to use her degree, to do work that mattered, to be part of a family that wanted her.
Eve had listened in silence, and when Emily finished, she was quiet for a long moment.
“That's a big change,” Eve had said finally.
“Yes.”
“You'll be living with people you barely know.”
“I know Beth and Gabriel and I’m sure his father is very nice.”
“But you haven't lived with them. Living with people is different from visiting. Sweetheart, I'm not saying no. I would never say no to something you wanted this much. I just want to make sure you've thought it through.”
“I've thought about little else for two days.”
“I know you have. That's not what I mean.” Eve paused, choosing her words carefully.
“You process the world differently than most people.
That's not a flaw, it's just a fact. But it means that transitions are harder for you.
New environments, new routines, new people.
Are you sure you're ready for all of that at once?”
“No,” Emily admitted. “I'm not sure. But I don't think I'll ever be sure. And if I wait until I'm sure, I'll never do anything. You’ve been the best mother any child could ask for, but I’m grown up now. I need to get out in the world and find where I belong. It means everything to me to know I have your support.”
They talked for another hour, working through the logistics, the concerns, the what-ifs. By the end, Eve gave her blessing, though Emily could tell that it cost her something to do so.
“I'll call Beth,” Eve said. “Not to interfere. Just to...talk. Mother to mother, in a way.”
“Beth isn't my mother.”
“No. But she’s your half-sister, and that's close enough. Let me do this, Emily. Let me make sure you're going somewhere safe. It's the only way I'll be able to let you go.”
Emily agreed, because she understood. Her mother needed to know that the people receiving her daughter would value her, protect her, understand her. It was the same thing any mother would need.
Now, driving south through the late morning light, Emily wondered if she had made that call yet. Wondered what Beth had said, what promises had been made, what concerns had been raised and addressed.
She would find out soon enough.
Eve Wheeler sat at her kitchen table, staring at her phone, trying to work up the courage to dial.
Although Emily agreed to let her mother talk to Beth, she wasn’t thrilled about it.
This was what parents wanted, Eve reminded herself.
For their children to grow up, to become independent, to find their own paths.
She had raised Emily for exactly this moment, had prepared her as best she could for a world that didn't always understand her.
But knowing that didn't make it easier.
At least she isn’t leaving the state, she told herself trying to find comfort in that reality.
She picked up the phone and found Beth's number in her contacts.
They had exchanged numbers years ago, when Emily first connected with the Wheeler family, but they had rarely spoken directly.
Their relationship existed mostly through Emily, through the stories each told the other about this strange, blended family they had all become part of.
Eve pressed the call button before she could talk herself out of it.
Beth answered on the third ring, sounding slightly out of breath. “Eve? Is everything okay? Is Emily okay?”
“She's fine. She should be there in a couple of hours.” Eve paused. “I'm sorry to call out of the blue. I just wanted to talk to you. About Emily. About this arrangement.”
“Of course.” There was a rustling sound, like Beth was settling into a chair. “I've been meaning to call you, actually. I know this must be strange for you.”
“Strange is one word for it.” Eve laughed, a nervous sound. “My daughter is moving in with people I've barely met, to help raise babies that aren’t born yet on a farm I've never seen. It's a lot to process.”
“It is. I understand that.” Beth's voice was warm, patient. “What can I tell you that would help?”
Eve considered the question. There were so many things she wanted to know, so many reassurances she needed. But one concern rose above the others.
“Emily is different,” she said carefully. “I'm sure you know that. She sees the world in ways that most people don't. She's direct, sometimes painfully so. She doesn't always understand social cues, and she can be...intense when she's focused on something.”
“I know. It's one of the things I love about her.”
“Not everyone loves it. Not everyone understands.” Eve's voice tightened.
“She's been hurt before. Jobs that didn't work out because people thought she was rude or difficult.
Friendships that fell apart because she didn't know the unspoken rules.
I've watched her try so hard to fit in, to be normal, and fail again and again.”
“Eve.” Beth's voice was gentle but firm. “I'm not going to ask Emily to be anything other than who she is. I invited her here because I love her, and because I think she has something valuable to offer. Not despite her differences, but because of them.”
Eve felt tears prick at her eyes. “You really mean that.”
“I really do.” There was a pause. “Can I tell you something? When I first met Emily, I was overwhelmed by her. She was so direct, so intense, so completely unlike anyone I’d ever known. I didn't know how to talk to her, how to connect with her. I kept waiting for her to soften, to meet me halfway.”
“That's not how she works.”
“No, it's not. And eventually I realized that the problem wasn't Emily. The problem was me expecting her to conform to my idea of how people should interact.” Beth laughed softly.
“Once I stopped expecting her to be different and started appreciating who she actually was, everything changed. She became one of my favorite people in the world.”
Eve wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “She feels the same way about you, you know. She doesn't say it often, but I can tell. You're the first person outside of me who really saw her.”
“I'm honored by that. And I promise you, Eve, I will take care of her. Not by hovering or protecting her from everything, but by giving her space to be herself. By giving her work that matters and a role that has meaning. By treating her like an adult who is capable of making her own decisions.”
“That's what she needs.” Eve's voice was thick. “That's what I've been trying to give her, but I'm her mother. It's hard not to hover.”