Willa flashes me a big smile. “Yes! I love that. That’s so true,” she says as her fingers fly over the keys of her laptop.

The rest of the group weighs in and we break until next week. With my mom fresh on my mind, I call her while I walk to my next class.

“Hello?” she answers like she doesn’t know it’s me when I know caller ID announced me.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Katrina!” she exclaims. “It’s so good to hear from you.”

“I know. I’m sorry I haven’t called in a couple weeks. Classes and work have been keeping me busy and then of course Christian. Thank you for the cleats you sent him. He’s loving soccer.”

I take a deep breath. When I told my parents I was moving to Valley and going to college just as I’d planned before I’d gotten pregnant, they’d been less than enthusiastic. They’re great and I’m positive that if I’d stayed, they’d have helped me any way they could, but my parents were counting down the days until they could start traveling and do all the things they weren’t able to because they were also teen parents.

My mom was only sixteen when she had my sister and then, surprise, I came along fifteen years later. That’s a lot of years to parent, I get it, I’d be ready for a vacay too.

And part of me had wanted to stay and take all the help I could get, but having Christian so young changed so much, I decided I didn’t want to be like my parents waiting thirty years to do the things I wanted because I had a kid. I want Christian to see me working toward my goals – graduating and eventually being a screenwriter.

“Of course, send me his game schedule when you have it and your dad and I will try and make the trip to see him play.” The reminder that we’re too far away for them to just pop by unplanned makes me stay silent for too long. “Katrina? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here. I’m sorry that we’re not closer. I miss you guys,” I say. “Things are going great for us, though.” Before she can get a word in, I continue. “And Christian is doing great in preschool. We’re doing great, Mom.”

One more great and I’m officially overcompensating. I slow my pace as I get close to my next class.

“Oh, honey.” I hear her sigh. “Of course, you are. Your father and I are so proud of you, but we just worry. I don’t want to see you make things harder on yourself than is necessary. I remember what it was like trying to be young and raise a child and your grandma was only five minutes away. She saved me more times than I can count. I just think you need to let people help you more. You don’t have to always go it alone.”

“I know.” My voice is small. Guilt washes over me and I wonder if I’m being selfish. It’s not the first time I’ve questioned if my actions are what’s best for Christian. Would he be happier if we were closer to family, had Sunday lunches like Joel’s family, and grandparents on the sidelines at his soccer games?