P. Hoover - Solstice

“I could tell,” I say. I don’t mention the green fungus I saw covering him, but I think that’s what the fungus was showing me—his selfish desires for power. “He avoided the question.”

“He’s suppressing the results,” my mom says. “His only concern is the election and to hell with the fate of the earth.”

“Why don’t you say something?” I can’t stand by and watch everything I love be ruined by lies.

My mom leans back against the counter and runs her hands through her hair, and in that moment she looks so vulnerable. “Don’t you think I have, Piper? I’ve brought my concerns to the mayor, but he won’t listen either. It’s like they can’t see beyond the boundaries of Austin. As long as they shove their city under those stupid domes, they could give a rat’s ass what else happens.”

I pat the sofa beside me, and my mom sits back down.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t get so upset.”

“Yeah, mom, you should. If there’s anything worth getting upset about it’s the fact that they’re killing the earth.” Not about tattoos, I think to myself, but I leave that unsaid. “So what are you going to do about it?”

My mom studies me. Her eyes scan over me from the gash in my hair to deep into my soul. And then she finally answers. “There’s nothing I can do, Piper. I think we just need to resign ourselves to our fate.”

It’s a peculiar answer considering she just told me she didn’t believe in fate. And something about the way she looks away makes me think she’s keeping something from me. Like maybe she has some sort of idea how to fix things that I’m not privy to.

I suddenly let out a yawn I don’t even know I’ve been keeping in and realize I can hardly keep my eyes open.

“You’re tired, Piper Rose.”

I nod and curl into her embrace. My eyelids are reminding me I didn’t sleep last night.

We sit in silence, and the wine does its job, relaxing me, calming me. Here, with my mom’s arms around me, I believe things are once again as they should be. And with her accepting my tattoo, I believe she will actually let me make more choices in my life.

“You’d never leave me, would you, Piper?”

Her words reach my ears clearly, but it takes a second for my brain to process them.

“What?”

She rubs my arm, and holds me closer. “You’re all I have, Piper. You’re everything to me.” Her hands stop rubbing and press into my shoulder. “I’d die without you.”

All at once, every muscle which the wine had previously relaxed tenses up. And I realize my mom will never let me make my own choices. “Why would you ask that, Mom?”

As if she’s caught herself, her hand starts rubbing again. “I just want you to know how much I love you, Piper.”

I try to settle back into her arms, but my muscles still feel tight. “I know you love me, Mom.”

“I do, Piper.”

I don’t respond. There’s nothing to say.

“And you’ll never leave me, will you, Piper?”

Her question makes me want to run away and leave her right then. To open the door and never come back. “Of course not, Mom.”

“I’m glad, Piper.”

I’m about to drift off when my mom’s voice stirs me.

“There’s one more thing, Piper.”

“What?”

She gets up and walks over to one of the cabinets, and when I notice her hands shaking, I sit up. She opens the door and gets something and sets it on the coffee table in front of me. It’s my box. The one Melina gave me. My face freezes, and I stare at her. I’m wide awake now.

“Where did you get this?” She asks it slowly, not taking her eyes off me.

I hold her gaze. Sure, I’ve hidden the box, but I haven’t done anything wrong. “It was a present.” I look at the box, reach over for it, but she pulls it away.

“A present from whom?”

My first reaction is to lie. To tell her Chloe gave it to me. But I’m a terrible liar. “From one of our customers.”

She presses her lips together and looks down at the box, drawing her hands back as if she doesn’t want to touch it.

But I, on the other hand, really want to touch its black surface. To run my hands over the engraved red symbols on the top and sides. The hammer and the birds and the flames, which seem to sparkle under the fluorescent lights.

“Which customer?”

I shrug. “You know—that girl with all the corn rows.”

My mom looks back up at me. “Have I met her?”

I know the answer is no. Melina comes on Sundays and only when my mom’s out getting seeds.

“I guess not. But she’s really nice and always takes the time to talk.”

My mom scowls.

“What’s the big deal anyway? Why shouldn’t I get a present?”

My mom reaches down, but instead of keeping her hand away from the box, she rubs it, almost caresses it. “Did you open it?”

I nod, glad she’s going to accept it. “Yeah.”

“And…?”

“And what?” I reach for the box, and this time, she lets me take it, sliding it over toward me. It warms under my touch, and the etched birds seem to shimmer and come to life.

“Was there anything in it?” She’s looking at me like she knows the answer. But I don’t want to tell her about the feather.

I shake my head and lie. “It was empty.” I lift the lid, and she flinches, but I hold the box open and show her the inside. It is void of anything except its ebony interior.

For a moment, my mom has stopped breathing, but she does look inside. “Are you sure?”

I nod. “Yeah, sure.” Why is my mom so interested?

“Okay, then.” My mom is apparently going to let this box thing go.

I relax and scoot it away, not wanting to put it aside, but at the same time, not wanting my mom to see my interest in it.

“I need to go away this weekend,” she says out of nowhere.

It’s nothing new; we’ve gone on trips before, sometimes for the council, sometimes to buy plants. “Where are we going?”

But my mom shakes her head. “I’m going alone.”

“What about me?” My mom’s never left me alone before.

She gives me a weak smile. “You’ll stay here.”

My heart stops in my chest. She can’t be serious. Me. Stay alone? Without my mom? Is it some kind of test? Is she trying to see what I will do given the chance?

“I’ll make sure there’s enough food so you don’t even have to leave.”

“When?” I manage to say, hoping that, of all the mixed feelings going through me, she doesn’t hear the anticipation in my voice. I force my face to remain calm, though I’m not sure if I succeed.

“Friday morning,” she says. “I’ll get back on Monday.”

Friday. It’s the night I’m supposed to sneak out with Reese. And, like the Fates are rearranging my life, now I won’t even have to sneak out. I can do whatever I want. Thinking about it makes my palms sweaty. My mom would kill me if she knew what I had planned.

“You’ll be fine,” she says like she’s trying to convince herself. “If you need help, you can go over to Chloe’s.”

“Where are you going?” I’m not sure I can think of a situation extreme enough for my mom to leave me alone.

My mom looks away. “I have business to take care of.”

“What kind of business?”

She doesn’t want to tell me; I’m sure of it. And the more she doesn’t want to tell me, the more I want to know.

“You better get to bed,” she says.

“What kind of business, Mom?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I want to know.”

My mom looks at me a final time then looks away. “Family business.”

“What family?” My chest tightens. It has to be my father.

“I have things to talk about with your father.”