Unfortunately, it doesn’t.
It’s just a plain ole boring bowl of yogurt and granola no matter how hard I stare at it.
I don’t know why I’m scared to tell them. It’s mid-July, so they have to know I’m not starting college. But no matter how much I comfort myself with this information I can’t help feeling like a disappointment and a complete and utter failure.
I set my spoon down. “Mom? Dad?”
Dad looks up from his newspaper and my mom stops eating her cereal.
“Yes?” my dad prompts, raising a brow inquiringly over the top of his reading glasses.
Beside me, Harlow stops eating to listen to the conversation.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’ve decided not to go to college this year. I want to focus on recovery and get through this year of many doctor’s appointments, and hopefully figure out what I want to do, before I start next year.”
They stare at me and my mom finally picks up her coffee cup, cradling it in her hands. “I think that’s an excellent decision. We didn’t want to pressure you into going this year, either, and if you said you wanted to go, we were going to let you know how we felt but we would’ve still helped with late enrollment if it’s truly what you wanted.”
I breathe a very audible sigh of relief. “Thanks, guys.”
Their support means a lot to me, more than I think I even realized.
Beside me, Harlow shakes her head stifling a laugh. “You look like you just dodged a bullet.”
“I feel like I did,” I admit, and laugh too.
My dad lays down his newspaper. “You’ve been through more in the last three years than most people go through in a lifetime. I think it’s only right to want a break. You deserve it.”
My lip quivers. “Thanks, Dad.”
I can’t help it. The tears begin to fall. Having my parents behind me means more than they can possibly know.
“We’re proud of the woman you’ve become,” he continues, which only makes me cry harder. “Your mother and I have watched you handle everything with such grace. You’re incredibly strong, Willa, and we know we’ve raised a brilliant young lady. We couldn’t be more proud.”
I get up from the table and go to hug him. He hugs me back, his grip bear tight.
“I love you,” I whisper into the scruff of his neck.
“I love you too, Willa.”
He lets me go and I hug my mom. She too squeezes me like she never wants to let go.
I know when this happened they wished they could wrap me in bubble wrap and make it all go away, but they couldn’t, and while they didn’t go through what I did, they had to experience their own unique pain over the situation.
My mom releases me but holds onto my elbows, forcing me to look at her.
“Remember, always, that you’re a vibrant ray of light. No demon is too big or tough for that light not to squash it.” She reaches up and wipes a tear from my cheek. “You’re beautiful, smart, and kind. We’re always here for you. Always.”
I hug her again, not wanting to let go.
Eventually, I have to.
I sit back down and finish my yogurt.
My parents leave for work, each of them kissing me on the cheek and doing the same to Harlow who squeals like she’s grossed out by all the affection.
The house grows quiet and Perry sits at my feet while I rest on the couch with a book.
“How’d it go yesterday?” Harlow asks, hanging upside down in the chair. I don’t even bother asking her why exactly she’s upside down. Harlow does what she wants.