That night I had gone home and asked my mother if I could go. Dad was out, as usual, doing one thing or another, leaving all the big decisions to my mom—not that I minded, because if I asked my dad, I already know what his answer would have been. “Are you sure you want to?” Mom asked. We were standing in the kitchen as she made dinner, and she looked completely exhausted. “Avery and you haven’t spoken in months and now he all of a sudden wants you to come?” “He changed his mind,” I replied. “Please Mom, this is big for him, and being his first friend he made, he really wants me there. I want to be there for him in case it doesn’t work out well.” While that was partially true, the other part consisted of my actually just wanting to be there with him. Mom sighed and looked at me intensely. “Fine, I’ll let you go. But you have to promise me that we can celebrate Christmas when you get back.”
