They drove down the road, the wind tangling their hair, music blasting from the radio in competition with the whizzing air.
Nora dug into her backpack and pulled out her Polaroid camera. Clicking the knobs, adjusting the focus, she held it up to her eye,framing her mother behind the wheel—sunlight in her hair, head tilted back in laughter, singing like she had no cares in the world.
She pressed the button.
Click—whirr—shlunk.
The photo fluttered out the bottom, nearly snatched by the wind. Nora yelped and lunged, catching it just in time. She held it up, waving it gently in the air until the image began to appear.
She’d never seen her mother like this before. She wondered if her mother had really changed. Or had she, Nora, merely failed to look closely enough? Probably, she thought, it was a combination of both.
In the picture she held between two fingers her mother was not the household list maker or the voice reminding her to pack extra socks.
She was a woman, alive in her joy.Free.
Nora tucked the photo carefully into the glove compartment, not wanting to risk it flying off into the desert. It was important that her mother see it later. Important for her to see what Nora saw.
Another song came on the radio—one they’d heard at the concert just a few days ago, Three Dog Night’s “Celebrate”—and Nora couldn’t help herself. She started dancing in her seat, letting her arms catch the wind, hair whipping across her face as she belted out the chorus.
Her mom joined in, singing the lyrics at the top of her lungs.
When the song ended, Leanne pushed her hair back from her eyes and gave Nora a quick flash of a smile. Her hands stayed steady on the wheel, but her gaze was carefree, youthful, almost mischievous.
“Never thought I’d love that song so much,” she said.
“Never thought I’d hear you sing it,” Nora replied.
She looked at her mother again—really looked.
Not simply the woman who made her breakfast or reminded her about curfews. But someone who had once been eighteen too. Someone who’d had dreams and crushes and a favorite song. A girl who had danced like this once, with her whole life ahead of her. Maybe sheshould cut her mom some slack, because from where she was sitting, it seemed like her mom was doing the same.
“Did you date someone in high school?” Nora asked, keeping her voice casual, even if she felt quite the opposite.
They’d been driving for hours, the sun slanting lower across the sky, bathing the dashboard in gold. The wind carried music, and the faint scent of roadside dust and the open air made it feel safer to ask a question she’d never broached before.
Her mom had always just…been a mom. As far as Nora had ever been concerned, Leanne had skipped straight to adulthood like she’d never once been a girl who passed notes in class, had flirted with boys at school, or got butterflies before a dance.
Leanne laughed, eyes on the road. “Not just someone. A few someones, much to my parents’ dismay, although I always thought your grandmother was a little proud.”
Nora leaned her head back, smiling. “She would be. I think she’d be proud if she knew we were on this grand adventure.”
“I think so too.”
“Where did you meet Dad?”
“At an interview, actually,” Leanne said. “I’d just finished secretarial school.”
Nora gasped. “Don’t tell me he was your boss.”
“No, nothing like that.” There was something abrupt about her mom’s voice. Then she laughed and her mood went back to what it had been. “He was interviewing too. Not for the same position—he was there for something higher up. He was nervous.”
“Solid,” Nora said.
Leanne glanced at her daughter, clearly amused. “He made me a bet. Said whoever got the job second owed the other dinner. Then he asked for my number.”
“Who won?”
“I did,” she said, a flicker of pride lighting her face. “I got an offer in the interview and started work the next day. He got a callback the following week. So, we did end up at the same place.”
