Chapter Twenty: RETURNING TO NEW YORK
933 Words
Xenia
Leaving was always the hardest part.
Not arriving.
Not packing.
Not saying hello.
Leaving.
Because no matter how wonderful a trip was, eventually real life returned.
And real life did not care how beautiful the beach had been.
Or how many seashells Kira collected.
Or how many sunsets we watched together.
Real life simply arrived and demanded attention.
Rude.
Very rude.
The morning after we returned from the island, I found myself standing outside my dormitory with two suitcases, one backpack, and enough exhaustion to sleep for three days.
Beside me, Kira looked as though someone had personally informed her Christmas was canceled.
“This is stupid.”
I sighed.
A promising start.
“What is stupid, baby?”
“You leaving.”
I smiled softly.
“I always leave when school starts again.”
“Still stupid.”
Fair argument.
Not a correct argument.
But a fair one.
Mr. Winslie stood nearby, loading the final suitcase from the car.
The trip home had been surprisingly quiet.
Well.
Quiet by Kira standards.
Meaning she had only spoken approximately three hundred times instead of her usual six hundred.
A remarkable achievement.
I adjusted the strap of my backpack.
For a moment nobody spoke.
Then Kira suddenly wrapped her arms around my waist.
Hard.
I blinked.
The child wasn’t usually emotional about goodbyes.
Complaining?
Yes.
Negotiating?
Definitely.
Attempting bribery?
Frequently.
But this felt different.
“I’ll see you Friday.”
I gently rubbed her back.
“That’s only four days away.”
“Four days is forever.”
“It isn’t.”
“It is.”
I laughed softly.
Kira refused to release me.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Finally Mr. Winslie stepped forward.
“Kira.”
“No.”
“You need to let Miss Kingsley breathe.”
A pause.
Then:
“No.”
I covered my mouth.
Mr. Winslie pinched the bridge of his nose.
The universal sign of parental suffering.
Eventually Kira loosened her grip.
Reluctantly.
Very reluctantly.
I crouched to her level.
“Be good.”
“I am always good.”
Both Mr. Winslie and I immediately looked at each other.
Then back at Kira.
The silence spoke for itself.
Kira gasped.
“Betrayal.”
“Baby.”
“You too, Daddy?”
“I’ve seen the evidence.”
I laughed.
Kira huffed dramatically.
The situation appeared to wound her deeply.
A tragedy.
Truly.
I stood and turned toward Mr. Winslie.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“The vacation.”
His expression remained unchanged.
As usual.
Yet something softened slightly around his eyes.
“It was for Kira.”
I smiled.
Of course that was his answer.
Everything was always for Kira.
That was one of the things I admired most about him.
No matter how busy he became.
No matter how demanding work was.
His daughter always came first.
Always.
“Still.”
I adjusted my backpack again.
“Thank you.”
A brief nod.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Professional.
The way it had always been.
The way it should stay.
For some reason that thought felt heavier than usual.
Strange.
Very strange.
Before I could examine it further, Kira grabbed my hand.
“Nanny.”
“Yes?”
“You forgot something.”
My heart nearly stopped.
“What?”
Had I forgotten my phone?
My passport?
My wallet?
My textbooks?
Again?
Kira smiled.
Then reached into her backpack.
A folded piece of paper appeared.
She handed it to me.
I opened it carefully.
A drawing.
Of course.
Three stick figures.
One small.
One tall.
One with very long white hair.
Above them, written in large uneven letters, were the words:
BEST VACATION EVER
My chest tightened unexpectedly.
I looked up.
Kira grinned.
“I made it yesterday.”
“Baby…”
“I know my drawing is beautiful.”
I laughed despite the lump forming in my throat.
“It is.”
And somehow, it really was.
I carefully folded the paper and tucked it into my bag.
Somewhere safe.
Very safe.
Because I already knew I wasn’t throwing it away.
Ever.
Kira seemed satisfied.
Mission accomplished.
The little menace knew exactly what she was doing.
A dangerous amount of emotional intelligence for a child.
I glanced toward the dorm building.
Reality awaited.
Classes.
Assignments.
Exams.
The usual mountain of responsibilities.
No beaches.
No vacations.
No endless afternoons watching Kira build sand kingdoms.
Just normal life.
A tiny sigh escaped me.
Then I straightened.
Ready.
Or at least pretending to be.
“See you Friday, baby.”
“Friday.”
“Promise.”
“Promise.”
I smiled one last time.
Then turned toward the entrance.
My suitcase wheels rattled against the pavement as I walked away.
Halfway to the doors, I looked back.
A mistake.
Kira was still standing there.
Watching.
Waving both arms dramatically.
Mr. Winslie stood beside her.
One hand resting on her shoulder.
Steady.
Protective.
Safe.
The image lingered in my mind.
Then I waved back.
And entered the dorm.
The doors closed behind me.
The noise of campus immediately rushed forward.
Students talking.
Phones ringing.
Backpacks bouncing against shoulders.
Life moving forward.
Just like always.
I adjusted my grip on my suitcase and headed toward my room.
Back to lectures.
Back to exams.
Back to imperfect English and long nights of studying.
Back to the life I’d chosen.
Yet as I climbed the stairs, a small smile found its way onto my face.
Because somewhere across the city, a little blonde girl was probably already counting down the days until Friday.
And if I was being honest…
I was too.
- Writer
