Chapter 28
Miles
Wednesday
Late July. The day before I left for college for the pre-orientation program.
I walked to Miss Amara’s home.
I wanted to say goodbye to her one last time. We had been together at the CIC a few times during the month. Last week, I had caved to her worried questions and, with her full attention, told her a little about my mother’s actions and my connection to Ben. But not about the fight with Ella.
Ella wasn’t in town. She had gone on vacation with her family a couple of weeks ago, right after prom.
I remembered she had mentioned the family trip and that they would be returning in August. We hadn’t seen each other since she stood up and walked away from me and my messed-up anger.
We hadn’t exchanged a single phone call.
We hadn’t crossed paths at prom. I didn’t go to that.
I imagined Ella and Nathan at prom, having a great time dancing together.
He would make her laugh, I would listen from afar.
They would pause romantically for a quiet break from the dance floor, he would kiss her and twirl her in his arms. Like a princess.
And she would deserve it all. She deserved as many nights like that as she could get, the perfect nights.
But that would have been all far too painful to watch.
And there hadn’t been much else that made me want to go anywhere or be part of anything during that week.
“Miles, honey!” Miss Amara opened her front door with a big smile on her face. “I was wondering when you were gonna show up. Come in, I have tea!”
We sat in her garden chairs, holding our flower-painted ceramic tea cups and watching her growing vegetables.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” I told her slowly and quietly.
Miss Amara had been more than the grandmother I never had. And I had walked to her house thinking that I wanted her to know I was thankful for that.
“Oh, honey,” she offered me her tender smile, “it was a pleasure to have your company this past year.” She set down her mug on the small outdoor wooden table between us.
“And I expect a letter from you sometime, letting me know how amazingly you’ve succeeded in college, and where you’re off to next! ”
I let out a small laugh.
The sun was shining on the garden. Miss Amara’s lettuce was growing vibrantly.
Some thoughts popped back into my mind. They were what-if thoughts. Miss Amara noticed my reflective silence and gave me one of her “What’s going on?” caring looks.
“I’m still not sure I want to go,” I confessed to her. “What if it’s a complete fiasco and I shouldn’t have gone at all?”
Miss Amara waited a few seconds before speaking, then said, “It’s completely valid to feel afraid.
Change is never easy. It’s easier for some, and more difficult for others, but never easy.
” A small smile tugged at my lips as I remembered the analogy Ella once made: comparing my habit of always ordering the same meal to my resistance to change.
“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” she continued gently, “you’re stepping into a new chapter, all on your own.
There is nothing wrong in being afraid. But, honey, life is a book filled with beginnings and endings of chapters, and if we were meant to stay put in one place, we would have roots instead of feet. ”
I looked at Miss Amara, assimilating her words. I was glad I’d come to her house one day before the date on my train ticket.
“What else is upsetting you?” she asked, keeping her eyes on me, sure that there was something else. I guessed she knew the answer to her own question but wanted me to feel the relief of sharing it.
“I’m leaving Evermere with Ella upset with me,” I told her.
She nodded once. “And do you believe she has reasons to be upset with you?”
“She does,” I answered immediately. I didn’t need to think about it. I had already spent weeks reflecting. She had every right to be mad at me. I had gone too far. I had hurt her.
“One thing we all regret in life is hurting someone who did not deserve to be hurt,” Miss Amara said subtly, watching a butterfly flutter by. “And another is being so stubborn that one does not apologize when an apology is needed,” she added, not so subtly now.
Miss Amara’s unsolicited advice always came as a simple truth rather than a direct urge to act. She guided us gently, never forcing us to do anything simply because she said so. She knew we might listen, or we might not. But she would never hold back from sharing her wisdom.
“She’s out of town,” I stated.
How could I apologize if she wasn’t here and I was leaving in less than 24 hours?
“When we want something, we always find a way.” Miss Amara smiled at me.
I absorbed her words, my gaze drifting toward her garden, where the late afternoon sun now painted golden streaks over the wildflowers.
I had spent so many afternoons here, helping her tend to the plants, listening to her stories, sometimes just enjoying the quiet.
Miss Amara had a way of making things feel lighter, even when they weren’t.
But today, the weight in my chest remained.
Miss Amara reached for her cup of tea. “How’s everything with your mother?” she asked gently.
I let out a slow breath. Nothing had changed.
My mother hadn’t protested when I told her I was leaving early for the college’s pre-orientation program.
Her boyfriend, Gaston, was spending more and more time at our house, and increasingly mentioning their move as well.
And she hadn’t said a single word about Ben or that day, as if she wanted to erase it from both our minds.
“I just want everything around me to feel stable,” I admitted.
Miss Amara gave me a knowing nod. “It’s not easy growing up with instability.”
I hesitated before speaking a thought that had been forming in the back of my mind. “I think I became dependent on Ella when she gave me that.” Stability, calmness, peace.
Miss Amara’s expression was gentle, understanding. “She’s an older sister. Stability is what she tries to be for everyone around her.”
Miss Amara was right. Ella had always taken it upon herself, whether she realized it or not. I had tried to help her before, and somehow, I ended up needing it too.
I watched Miss Amara set her cup down and met my eyes, her expression serious and deep.
“But you grow the most and feel your best when you stop looking for stability outside of yourself,” she said.
“Because the truth is, you should find it right here.” She tapped a hand lightly against her chest. “In yourself.”