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Chapter Six, A Mother's Daughter
Page eight—August 5th, 1973.
Dear future me, today I had a sleepover with Mama! We stayed up until very very late, we watched the sunrise, and the early birds chirped. It felt magical to watch the day start. We stayed in my room. She helped me make a fort with blankets and pillows, and we also invited some of my plushies!
It's the first time I've ever stayed awake for so long. I was very tired, but I washed my face with water so I wouldn't fall asleep. I had a lot of fun. I also discovered that the stars look beautiful very late at night. I might stay up again to see them, but I dunno if Mama will be happy with it.
I have a very strict bedtime. If I don't follow it, I think Father will get upset. But I will try to convince Mama! I just loved looking at the stars and being with her all night!
Amelia had biked home later that day after having used the phone at Scoop's to call her mother. She didn't answer. But a desperate part of her hoped her mother would be there, waiting for her, this time. She carried an unease with her the moment she didn't answer the phone—she had tried multiple times, thinking she had typed it in wrong, but no answer.
If she just found Margot, maybe curled up on the couch, ready to ask her how her week had been, the days they hadn't talked, her mind would steer clear of doubts and fear.
Her mother's slight absence made her feel slightly off. She had grown so attached to her for years; being apart from her for unexplained reasons scared her. But maybe Margot wasn't worried at all. Or maybe she was losing sleep over everything.
When she pushed open the front door, the house was dim and still. It was quiet. No faint voices from the living room TV, no music humming from the kitchen. Dead fucking silent. Margot wasn't on the couch. She wasn't making tea or watering the flowers she'd replanted earlier that week.
Amelia found a note on the kitchen counter, the square of paper catching the last orange light of the late setting sun. Her mother's handwriting neat and careful.
At Claudia's. Be back later. Come home early, please. That was it. Amelia stood there for a long time, just staring at the paper. She didn't know who Claudia was or what was going on. She guessed she had met some woman at the knitting club she had signed up for at the town center. But at least it was something. A fragment of her concern.
Just as she turned to leave, something by the sink caught her eye: a small golden ring, glinting in the fading light. Her mother always took it off to wash dishes and often forgot to put it back on. Amelia hesitated only for a second before reaching for it. She slid it onto her finger and stared at it for a moment. For good luck, she told herself.
