LJ Idol 11 Week 6
“I’m sorry you don’t agree, son,” she said as she slammed the trunk closed on the last of her bags, “but this is something I have to do.”
“But Mom, it’s only been six months. You haven’t had time to grieve, time to work things out. You just haven’t had the time to make a decision like this.”
“Son, all I’ve had is time,” she replied, getting behind the steering wheel and putting the key in the ignition. “I’ll send updates. I really do love you.”
She closed the car door, put on her blinker and moved into the street. Looking in the rearview mirror she could see Jackson, fingers laced behind his head in exasperation. She was sure that if there had been anything on the street it would have received a swift, forceful kick. She understood his frustration, hell, she could empathize with it. She had gone through it herself, almost giving in to his wishes and cajoling for her to stay. Finally, though, she couldn’t. She just couldn’t do it. This was the right thing, and if it wasn’t, it would lead her to the right thing. She only wished he could understand like Nessa and Andie did. She was old, she wasn’t dead. She wasn’t even really that old. He was just the baby, used to being taken care of, used to getting his way, fully capable on his own but not totally willing to be.
For thirty years she had been Nessa, Andie and Jackson’s mom; Robert’s wife. She had loved it and wouldn’t change any of it for the world, even the bumps in the mostly smooth road of being a wife and mother, raising her children and taking care of her husband. Now, she needed to be Sadie. She needed to find out who Sadie was, who she could be, how her life had shaped her. The house was on the market, bills paid off with insurance money, the car new and reliable, her destination fluid albeit somewhat limited to North America. Well, South America too, but she didn’t speak anything but English. She did recognize some of her limitations. She had enough money for at least six months on the road, more after the house sold.
She and Robert had jokingly planned their retirement in an RV, roaming the United States, seeing everything they could and getting off the beaten path of the interstate system. That was before Robert got sick. Nearly ten years her senior and just three years short of retirement, the cancer took him quickly and brutally. This decision was as much a loving tribute to her beloved husband, sans the RV, as it was her bid for rediscovery. She was open to almost anything, no final destination in mind, no worries for future income and self-support. It would come. She was sure of it. She wanted experiences, new flavors, majestic views, quirky people, and odd tchotchkes. Maybe she would finish that novel she’d started a hundred times, or open the café she dreamed of as a young woman, or run a B&B in a small village. The possibilities were endless, but it all started with the first step, or mile as it were.