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“Well, I told Noah that Columbia is a great university. You made the right choice, sweetheart. It’ll be nice to have you closer again.”
I was about to change the subject when I noticed the tears in her eyes.
“Mom, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
She grabbed a tissue and said, “You’re my first child, Aria. I almost lost you.”
“Well, worst-case scenario, you’d still have another two kids to raise.”
Frowning, she shook her head.
“Sorry. Bad joke.”
“I love you and I want you to be happy”—Mom squeezed my hand—“I’m so proud of you for getting that scholarship. You worked so hard. Don’t let your finals discourage you. All your teachers have been very understanding about your situation. Noah said that he will take care of all your living expenses once you’re in New York, so don’t stress about money. Everything’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna pull through this.”
There was so much optimism in her eyes, but I had a feeling she was masking her exhaustion.
“Mom, you look like you haven’t slept in days. You really don’t have to supervise me around the clock.”
“I’m here because I want to be. I miss you, darling.”
“I miss you too, but I feel bad. Who’s watching over Terry and Tiff?”
“Your grandparents. They drove down from Boston weeks ago.”
“I’m surprised Rob’s here. He never closes up the garage.”
“He’s got Sammy running the place until he returns. He wants to be here for you as well.”
“But Mom, you guys need the money—every dollar counts.”
She raised her hand in protest to silence me. “I don’t want you worrying about that kind of stuff. We’ve got it covered.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your father’s helping me out.”
Oh, God… no. History repeating again. The dreadful thought plagued my memory and triggered a time when my stepdad’s gambling had gotten so out of control.
“Mom, please don’t give the money to Rob! You know what he’ll do!”
“He’s been getting help for his gambling addiction these past three months. It’s a twelve-step program kind of thing, you know?”
He had tried AA last year and that clearly hadn’t worked. How was this “program” going to make a difference now?
“Besides,” she added, “he doesn’t even know about the money. I’ll tell him my parents helped us out if he asks. For now, I will deposit the check into my own separate account. Robert does not have access to it—those were Noah’s conditions.”
“How much money are we talking about here?”
“I had declined at first, because there was no way I’d be able to pay him back soon, not in weeks, not in months…years? Gosh, I don’t know.” She laughed nervously.
“Mom, just tell me.” I grew impatient.
She took a deep breath, opened her handbag, and pulled out the check.
“Wow…” My jaw nearly dropped as I held it in my hand.
“I still can’t believe it,” she sighed. “He doesn’t want the money back. He just wants to help me out.”
