Brent moved out of state for a job that may or may not have been real. Tyler stayed with Cassandra.
Nobody threw a party when Brent left.
Nobody needed to.
Some exits are celebrations even when no one says cheers.
On the first anniversary of that New Year’s Eve, we did not go to my mother’s house.
There was no house to go to.
Instead, we held New Year’s Eve at Rose House.
Every child got a gift.
Not expensive. Not flashy.
A book, a pair of warm socks, a little wooden star ornament with their name burned into it.
Tyler helped hand them out.
At midnight, Emma stood on a chair and made a toast with sparkling cider.
“To pancakes,” she said.
Noah raised his cup.
“To compasses.”
Dad said, “To second chances.”
Cassandra said, “To telling the truth sooner.”
My mother, sitting near the door out of habit though no one had asked her to, looked at me.
