Maybe This Time

The evening had settled quietly in the Mendoza household. From the open windows of the living room, the sound of crickets drifted in with the cool night air. A few lamps along the garden path cast warm pools of light across the lawn, while the faint scent of jasmine lingered around the veranda. Tessa sat beside her mother on the outdoor swing, gently rocking it back and forth with the tip of her slipper. For a moment, Tessa simply watched her. There were little things she noticed now. The way her mother's hands sometimes trembled. The way she tired more easily. The faint hollowness beneath her eyes. The small bottles of medicine that had slowly become ordinary objects around the house. Her mother had been fighting cancer for a long time. Long enough that everyone in the family had learned how to live around hospital appointments, medication schedules, difficult days, hopeful days, and days when nobody wanted to talk about any of it. Tessa had stopped asking, Are you okay? Her mother always said yes. So instead, she asked different questions. "Did you eat?" "Did you take your medicine?" "Did Dad annoy you today?" Because she knew, the answers were more honest that way. "You should be resting," Tessa said. Her mother smiled without looking at her. "You sound like your father." "That's because Dad is right most of the time." Her mother finally turned to her. "Don't let him hear you say that." Tessa laughed. "His ego is already big enough." For a moment, they sat quietly. Tessa watched the garden. Her mother watched her. “Tomorrow’s the first day of your last year in junior high.” She looked at her mother. “Unfortunately.” She smiled at her. "So," her mother said eventually, "have you thought about what you want to do after junior high?" Tessa looked at her. "Of course." Her mother raised an eyebrow. "Of course?" "I have a plan." "That sounds serious." "It is." Tessa stopped rocking the swing. "I want to take social work." Her mother blinked. "Social work?" Tessa nodded. "Yeah." "Why?" Tessa looked down at her hands. She had thought about the answer many times, but somehow saying it aloud made it feel more real. "I want to help people." Her mother smiled softly. "I know you do." "No, I mean... really help them." Tessa looked toward the garden again. "Not just give someone money or tell them everything will be okay. I want to understand what they're going through." Her voice became quieter. "Some people don't have anyone." Her mother listened carefully. "They don't have someone to talk to. They don't know where to go when things get bad. Sometimes they don't even know what help is available to them." Tessa took a breath. "I want to be that person who helps them find a way out." Her mother studied her daughter. "You've thought about this a lot." "For a long time." "Why social work?" Tessa shrugged. "I don't know." Her mother smiled. "That's not an answer." "I know." Tessa leaned back against the swing. "Maybe because I've seen what happens when people are going through something difficult." Her mother became still. Tessa didn't look at her. "Sometimes people need more than medicine." She paused. "They need someone." The words hung between them. Her mother looked down at her hands. Tessa immediately realized what she had said. "I'm not saying that because of you." Her mother smiled gently. "You don't have to explain." "I just..." Tessa hesitated. "When you've been sick, I've seen how many people are involved. Doctors, nurses, people from the hospital, people helping Dad with paperwork..." She smiled faintly. "But there were also people who talked to us. People who helped us understand things. People who made everything feel a little less terrifying." Her mother reached for her hand. "And you want to become one of those people." Tessa nodded. "Yeah." Her mother's fingers gently squeezed hers. "Then I'm proud of you." Tessa smiled. "You are?" "Of course." "But it's not exactly what Dad expected." Her mother chuckled. "Your father has a very specific picture of your future." "Exactly." "He'll adjust." "Eventually." "Probably." Tessa laughed. Her mother looked toward the garden. "You know, when I was your age, I thought I knew exactly what my life would look like." "What happened?" "Life happened." Tessa smiled. "That's vague." "It's supposed to be." "Mom." Her mother laughed. "You don't need to have everything figured out right now." "I know." "You can change your mind." "I won't." "You might." "I won't." Her mother smiled. "You're stubborn." "You raised me." "Unfortunately." Tessa laughed. Then her mother became quiet again. "If social work is what you truly want," she said, "then pursue it." Tessa looked at her. "Even if it's difficult?" "Especially if it's difficult." Her mother's eyes softened. "But don't choose a life just because you think you have to save everyone." Tessa frowned. "Why not?" "Because you can't." Her mother reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from Tessa's face. "You can help people, Tessa. You can stand beside them. You can give them hope. But you don't have to carry everyone's pain on your shoulders." Tessa didn't answer. She understood what her mother meant. At least, she thought she did. Her mother smiled. "And remember to build a life for yourself, too." Tessa nodded. "I will." "Promise?" "Promise." Her mother leaned back against the swing. Tessa rested her head against her mother's shoulder. For a while, they simply listened to the night. Neither of them knew how much that conversation would matter later. At sixteen, Tessa believed her future was a straight road waiting for her. Finish school. Study social work. Help people. Build a career. Make her parents proud. It was a simple plan. A good plan. And for the moment, she believed nothing could change it. ⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻❖❖❖❖❖⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻ The next morning began with sunlight. Tessa woke to golden light spilling through the curtains. For a few seconds, she stared at the ceiling. Then— First day. She groaned and pulled the blanket over her face. "Five more minutes." Her alarm disagreed. It rang again. Tessa reached blindly for her phone and silenced it. 6:05 a.m. She sat up. "Fine." Her room was exactly the way she liked it—organized enough to look neat, messy enough to feel lived in. Books sat in small stacks on her desk. A few photographs were pinned to the corkboard above it. A basketball ticket from one of Ethan's games was tucked between two pages of an old notebook. There was also a picture of Tessa, Katie, Ethan, and Zion from years ago. They looked younger. Much younger. Katie was making an exaggerated face. Ethan was laughing. Zion was smiling, with his elbow resting on her shoulder. And Tessa was caught somewhere between laughing and rolling her eyes. She smiled at the memory. Then she got ready. She took the white towel hanging from the clothes rack beside the bathroom door and disappeared inside. When she came out a while later, she had already taken a bath and changed into her school uniform. She wore a crisp white, short-sleeved button-up shirt, neatly tucked into a high-waisted navy plaid skirt. A dark navy ribbon bow was tied neatly beneath her collar, while the school's embroidered crest sat on the pocket over her chest. The pleated skirt fell just above her knees, its dark blue and muted gray plaid pattern giving the uniform a polished yet youthful appearance. Plain white socks reached midway up her calves, paired with polished black leather loafers. Her long, dark-brown hair was still slightly damp, falling in soft, natural waves down her back. Wispy curtain bangs framed her forehead and cheeks, while a few loose strands rested gently against the sides of her face. She adjusted the strap of her uniform blouse and ran her fingers through the ends of her damp hair before reaching for her bag on the study table. Once she was sure she had everything she needed, she slung the bag over her shoulder and left the room. The hallway outside her bedroom was quiet. Their house was unusually peaceful in the early morning. It was a large two-story house, but it had never felt like a mansion to Tessa. It had been in their family for decades, renovated several times but carefully kept in a way that preserved its older character. The staircase was made from dark wood. Family photographs lined the walls. There was an old grandfather clock near the entrance that had belonged to her grandfather. The living room opened toward the garden through tall glass doors, where the swing was located—the one her mother usually spent her afternoons on. She walked toward the stairs. Halfway down, she stopped. Her father's voice came from the study. “…we can't keep delaying it.” Tessa frowned. She hadn't meant to listen. She wasn't trying to. But the study door was slightly open. Her father continued. “If we sell that portion of the land, we can cover the immediate expenses.” Tessa froze. Someone else was in the room. A man's voice answered. “That would help, but it won't solve everything.” There was silence. Then her father's voice. “I know.” Tessa's grip tightened around the railing. Sell the land? Is he talking about the rice field? Her father had never talked about selling any part of it. Not once. That land was the largest rice field in their town. Her parents had built that property from the ground up when they were newlyweds. It had been what paved the way for their success. It stood as a symbol of everything her parents had achieved together. Tessa took a step towards the study. Then stopped. She could ask. She almost did. But she heard her father's voice again, lower this time. “We'll figure it out.” Tessa stepped away from the door. Whatever they were discussing, she clearly wasn't supposed to hear it. And if it was serious enough for her father to speak that quietly, she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Not yet. She continued downstairs. ⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻❖❖❖❖❖⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻ The kitchen was warm. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with toasted bread and fried eggs. Her mother was already seated at the dining table. “Good morning, Mom,” Tessa said. Her mother looked up. “There she is.” Tessa smiled. She walked over and kissed her cheek. Her mother's skin felt slightly cool beneath her lips. “How are you feeling?” “Good.” “Really?” Her mother smiled. “Yes, really.” Tessa looked at her carefully. She had learned to do that over the years. To look for the small things. How tired her mother looked. Whether her hands were shaking. Whether she was forcing a smile. Whether she had enough energy to finish breakfast. Her mother caught her staring. “You're doing it again.” “Doing what?” “Checking if I'm okay.” Tessa smiled sheepishly. “I'm not.” “You are.” Tessa looked at the food in the middle of the dining table. “Who cooked breakfast?” she asked, changing the subject as she sat down in front of her mother. “Me,” her dad answered as he entered the kitchen. “You did?” she asked in disbelief. Her father raised an eyebrow as he sat down. He put some eggs and toast on her mother’s plate. Tessa looked at the burned toast and the sunny-side-up egg, whose edges were also burnt. “You burned the toast.” Her father looked offended. “It is not burned.” Tessa picked up a piece. “This is black.” “It's crispy.” Her mother laughed. “Don't argue with him. He'll defend that toast until dinner.” Her father pointed at his wife. “You're supposed to support me.” “I support you. I don't support the toast.” Tessa laughed. She sat down. For a few minutes, they talked about nothing important. Her father's complaints about the newspaper. Her mother's plants. The weather. Tessa's school schedule. Normal things. The kind of things she would later realize were precious precisely because they were ordinary. Her mother reached for her tea. “So.” Tessa looked at her. “So?” “Are you excited?” “For school?” Her mother nodded. Tessa shrugged. “Kind of.” “Kind of?” “I'll be excited when I see my friends.” Her father looked at her. “Especially Zion?” Tessa immediately looked up. “Why are you saying his name like that?” Her father smiled. “I'm just asking.” “He's my friend.” “I didn't say he wasn't.” Tessa narrowed her eyes. Her mother laughed. “Leave her alone.” “I'm not doing anything.” “You're teasing her.” “I'm her father. It's my job.” Tessa shook her head. “You're both annoying.” Her mother smiled. “You’ll miss us once you start working.” Tessa stopped. “That’s still a long way to go.” Her father put down his coffee. “Did you check for universities?” “There’s still senior high school ahead, Dad. I still have a lot of time. And besides, NHU has these courses.” “So, you don’t have to leave?” There was relief in her dad’s voice. Tessa smiled. “I will only leave this house once you kick me out.” “Good.” Both her parents said at the same time. ⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻❖❖❖❖❖⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻ After breakfast, Tessa helped clear the table. Her mother immediately protested. “I can do it.” “I know.” “Then why are you doing it?” “Because I want to.” Her mother smiled. “You've always been stubborn.” “I learned it from you.” “Unfortunately.” “It is what it is.” Her father, who was standing in front of the sink, looked at them. “You two should stop or Tessa will be late for school.” They laughed. Tessa walked toward the door. Her mother called after her. “Tessa.” She turned. “Have a good first day.” “I will.” “And don't forget to eat lunch.” “Mom.” “I'm serious.” “I know.” “And call me when you get there.” “Okay.” Tessa walked back and kissed her mother's forehead. “See you later.” Her mother smiled. “See you later.” Tessa turned toward her father. He was watching them. She smiled. “Bye, Dad.” “Be careful.” “I will.” “And call me.” “Both of you are going to make me turn my phone off.” Her father laughed. “Go.”