“No, no, no. My children never wanted to leave home,” Louisa answers. “They told me so. Both of them.”

“When did they tell you that?”

“Right before they drove away.”

“So, they were actually inside of their cars when they told you this?

“Winnie was.”

“All packed up?”

“Yes.”

“And, . . . where were you? Were you in the car with her?”

“I was in the driveway.”

Louisa thought back to the day her daughter left to go to college in Florida because she did not get into the school in New York. Winnie and all of her boxes of books and clothes were packed into her little red mazda hatchback, and she was full of smiles. Always full of hope and optimism that one. Louisa didn’t know where that came from. It surely didn’t come from her. She knew the realities of this life; her daughter did not.

Winnie kept ignoring her mother’s pleas for her to stay and maybe take a job at the deputy clerk’s office.

“Okay, okay. So, you were in the driveway–but where exactly?”

Louisa did not answer but was remembering something.

“Louisa? . . . Do you remember the day that Winnie left? . . . You said that she didn’t want to leave. And that she told you she didn’t really want to go, right?”

Louisa’s Memory:

“Mom, please stop crying. We’ve talked about this again and again. I need to go. I’m ready to go. I’ve been ready for a long time. And, I want to go to school. I have plans for my life,” Winnie was always so sure of herself.

“Why must you go so far away? What about me? Have you thought about me at all? And, . . . and . . . your father? She added, thinking that including Winne’s father might help her case. We will never see you.”

“Of course you will, Mom. I’ll be home for Christmas!”

“That’s months away! How can you do this to me right now? You know I need your help here.”

“With what, Mom? Listening to you talk about how dad is in love with the neighbor? We’ve gone over and over that. Dad isn’t doing anything with her. We’ve proven that.”

“No, we haven’t. You don’t see what I see,” Louisa says angrily.

“No, I don’t. . . . And, I think you need to take a second look,” Winnie puts the car in park because all this time she’s had it in drive and has just been pressing the break pedal down hoping she would soon be able to leave.

Louisa starts crying with her mouth open wide so that her sobs will sound like wails and falls onto the grass next to the driveway.

“Mom, I’m sorry you’re so upset,” Winnie says still sitting in the car because she knows that her mother will start clutching at her if she gets near her. “But, can we talk about me for just a second? I’ve gotta do this for myself right now. I need to learn to take care of myself and figure out who I’m supposed to be in the world. You can understand that.”

“No. I can’t understand that. You can do all of that here.”

“I can’t study ornithology here, Mom.”

“You can work at the clerk’s office like we talked about.”

“No, I can’t, Mom!

“Of course you can!”

“No, I can’t. Do you know what an ornithologist is, Mom? Have you even been listening to me all these months about what I wanna be? Who I wanna be? I don’t wanna wait any longer for my life to begin.”

“You cannot go, Mija. Don’t leave me when I need you the most.”

“Mom, I’m sorry. I’m going,” she says as she turns her head to look behind her and then begins to pull out of the driveway.

Louisa comes out of her memory:

“My children never wanted to leave home; they told me so. Especially Winnie. I remember how sad she was when she had to leave.”