“What did you do for the holiday? Are you at your dad’s?” Maggie kept her tone light, even though she hated her ex, Florian. She knew he was behind Anna’s decision never to see Maggie, estranging mother and daughter permanently.
“No, I’m at school.”
“Oh.” Maggie felt a pang for her, spending the holiday without family. “Did they do anything special?”
“No, mostly everyone’s still away for Spring Break.”
“I see.” Maggie tried to collect her thoughts, sitting down at the kitchen island. Sunlight glistened on the granite countertop, which was white flecked with black and gray. Caleb’s Easter basket of Cadbury eggs and jellybeans sat next to the Sunday paper, and the air still smelled like banana pancakes from breakfast.
I’m losing weight but I’m not dieting.
“So Anna, tell me, how are you? How have you been? Can we catch up on your whole entire life?”
“I don’t know.” Anna chuckled. “If you want to.”
“I do, I’d love to!” Maggie’s heart lifted. “We can try, can’t we?”
“I guess.”
“Of course we can! So tell me how you are!” Maggie would give anything to reconnect with Anna. Maggie had fought for shared physical custody, but Florian had enrolled Anna in a fancy French boarding school, and the French courts had ruled against Maggie.She’d tried to establish visitation, but then Anna herself had written Maggie, saying she didn’t want to see her. Maggie had honored the request, though it had broken her heart.
“I guess I’m fine. My life is… fine.” Anna giggled.
“Mine, too! What a coincidence!” Maggie joined her, laughing. “How’s the new school?”
“Not as fine. And it’s not new.”
“You started there for high school, right?” Maggie had gotten a notice from Florian two years ago, which was required by the court, telling her that Anna had come stateside to Congreve, an elite boarding school in Maine. It drove her nuts that Florian had won custody of Anna, only to send her to a school to live. Maggie sensed he didn’t visit Anna much, because what little Maggie could see of Anna’s social media never mentioned Florian, not even on Father’s Day. Maggie always checked Mother’s Day, too, torturing herself.
“Yes, but that was, like, three years ago. I wanted to come to the U.S. for high school.”
“So what’s Congreve like? I saw on the website, it’s so pretty!”
“There’s not much to tell. It’s school.” Anna fell momentarily silent, and Maggie rushed to keep the conversational ball rolling.
“So you’re only a year from graduation! Tell me, what’s next for you? College?”
“Totally, they’re obsessed here. Congreve is a feeder for the Ivies. My grades are pretty good. I have a 3.7.”
“Wow, I’m so happy for you!” Maggie felt new tears come to her eyes, a mixture of joy and guilt. Anna deserved the brightest future ever.
I hear sounds and voices.
“It’s good, but it’s not, like, valedictorian good.”
“But still! I’m proud of you!”
I feel guilty and ashamed of myself.
“Thanks.” Anna perked up. “I like your letters. It’s so old-fashioned to get a real letter, instead of email.”
“I’m so happy you read them!” Maggie wrote Anna once a month, figuring that one-way communication was better than none at all. Shehad no choice other than snail mail, since she didn’t have Anna’s email address or cell phone number.
“I’m sorry I didn’t write back. I should have.”
Maggie felt touched. “It’s okay, you didn’t have to.”
“No, totally. It’s rude.”
