He Drove Her To The Exam, Left Our Daughter In The Flood Chapter 05

He Drove Her To The Exam, Left Our Daughter In The Flood Chapter 05

Hope pulled an envelope from her clothes and held it out to me.

“Mom, I have a gift for you.”

I pulled it out, and when I saw the first line of text, my eyes widened instantly.

St. Sterling University Full Scholarship Acceptance Letter.

With the official seal at the bottom.

I read it three times.

The first time, I thought I was seeing things. The second time, I started shaking. By the third

time, my lips were trembling so much I couldn’t speak.

I looked up, staring at Hope.

Her eyes were red, but there was a faint smile on her lips.

“Mom, I got this two months ago. I was going to take the SATs anyway to get the state merit scholarship money for us…”

I opened my mouth, but not a word came out.

I turned that letter over and over; every word was real, every seal was authentic.

“That day in the rain, the folder you were holding…”

“It was this,” Hope said.

“The letter and the confirmation forms were inside. When I ran out of the house, I had it all

planned out. I thought when I got the scholarship money, I’d take you and Dad out for a huge

dinner.”

When she said “Dad,” her voice hitched.

“We’d go to that seafood place you like, and get a cake. But then, at the testing center, I saw

him holding the umbrella for Madison…”

She didn’t finish the sentence.

I pulled her into my arms, holding her very tight.

She leaned against my shoulder, feeling as thin as a bird.

“You’ve done ten thousand times better than Mom could have imagined.”

It took a long time for me to stop shaking.

A small corner of the letter was dampened by a tear; I quickly wiped it dry with my sleeve and

tucked it back into the folder.

I booked the earliest flight to East Liberty.

Hope needed to go to St. Sterling early to handle the enrollment paperwork. We had no

reason left to stay in this city.

While waiting at the gate, Hope fell asleep on my shoulder.

Her eyelashes were still damp, her breathing light and shallow.

I looked at her face and remembered the things Arthur had said.

“A state school is fine.”

“If the ticket is ruined, it’s ruined. What does it matter.”

“How can you be so malicious.”

Top of the city.

Full ride to St. Sterling.

The daughter he had always ignored was the top student in the city and had been accepted

into an elite university.

And yet, he was holding the umbrella for someone else’s kid, going to someone else’s

parent-teacher nights, being a father to someone else’s child.

When the boarding announcement sounded, I woke Hope up.

She stood up, smoothed the wrinkles in her clothes, clutched the folder to her chest, and

followed me to the gate.

After a few steps, she suddenly turned and looked toward the entrance of the terminal.

No one was coming.

She pulled her gaze back and never looked back again.

That night, before Arthur went home, he made a special trip to the grocery store.

He bought the yogurt Hope liked and the brand of laundry detergent I always used.

But the door code had been changed.

He tried it three times, each time getting an error.

He started knocking.

No one answered.

He pulled out his phone to call, but it wouldn’t go through.

He tried Hope’s, but it was turned off.

He slumped by the door, leaning against the wall, putting the grocery bags at his feet.

It started raining again outside.

The mist blew in through the hallway window, soaking half of his shoulder.

He sat there all night.

Alone, without an umbrella, with no one to open the door for him.

He remembered the moment he rolled up the car window in the storm, leaving Hope and me

to walk further and further away into the rain.

The next morning, he got the super to open the door.

The apartment was half empty.