Chapters (52)
- Cover
- Back Cover Text
- Praise
- Booklist
- The Goodbye Quilt
- Dedication
- Day One
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Day Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Day Three
- Chapter Five
- Day Four
- Chapter Six
- Day Five
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Day Six
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Day Seven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- First Time in Forever
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Acknowledgments
- Excerpt
- BPA
“I changed my mind about college,” she says, in one short phrase bringing my most negative fantasies out into the open. “I mean, I’ll still go. Just not so far away.”
“Whoa, hang on. This is a big decision.” Brilliant, I tell myself. You’re a real rocket scientist.
“It’s the right decision.” She is instantly defensive. “What I realized this week is that it’s too hard, being apart from Travis. I’ll be happier at UW.”
“Aw, Molly. I know you think that now, but remember, you always wanted—”
“This has never been about what I want,” she says, each word slashing like an finely-honed blade. “It’s about what you want for me.”
“We want the same thing.”
“Do we? When was the last time you checked, Mom? This train started out of the station as soon as I got the acceptance letter. It was never, Do you want this?”
“I didn’t think I had to ask. Forgive me for assuming you wanted to study at one of the best schools in the country and see where it takes you. Forgive me for assuming you worked so hard in high school so you could explore a future beyond the boundaries of a small town.”
“I’ve been thinking about it all week long. We never talked about other options, Mom. We never talked about the fact that one of those options is that I can say, ‘Thanks very much, but I have other plans.’”
Travis, never a kid of many words, simply stands there, stalwart and—I can’t deny it—impossibly handsome. He shuffles his feet, looks at the message window of his phone as though someone has sent him an answer through the digital ether.
“Tell me about these other plans, Moll. I really want to know.”
“The state school makes perfect sense,” she insists, her voice as intent and convincing as a trial lawyer’s. “It’s way cheaper.”
“You have a scholarship. One you earned, I might add, all on your own. I didn’t make you. This is something you went after because you wanted it.”
“And now I want something else.” She sends Travis an adoring look, but he’s still studying his phone.
The state university is filled with commuter students juggling marriage, motherhood and work in addition to their courseload. No doubt they’re gifted, hard-working people who are doing it all, succeeding, living happy and fulfilling lives. Of course the state school is a good option.