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CHAPTER 10: LETTERS
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO KK
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“Hey Mom, I’m home.” I closed the door behind me and dropped my backpack near the entryway. Zander had driven me home… eventually. I smiled to myself, knowing that I had to be the luckiest girl in the world. I saw my mom make her way out of the kitchen and gave her a huge smile.
“Hey honey. How was your…” She stopped and looked at my arm.
“Mom, before you freak out I’m alright.”
“Sweetheart what happened to you?” She said in a matter of fact tone.
She probably wasn’t even really surprised. After ten years of riding dirt bikes with the Spencer’s, she was used to seeing me with a multitude of injuries. I give her some credit though, there were a bunch of incidents in which she could have told me to stop riding, but she never did. Mom knew how much I loved riding and the motocross world, and she never hesitated in letting me throw myself into it.
“I fell on some glass... Clumsy.” I stated raising my hand in a mock wave.
I felt bad about lying to her, but it was better that she wasn’t aware of what actually happened. Hell hath no fury like an angry mother.
“Oh no, that must’ve been awful on your birthday honey.”
“Nah, it was alright… nothing too bad.” I said as she steered me into the kitchen.
“Here sit down, I’m going to make some tea.” She said, heading for the kettle.
“Thanks Mom.”
“Honey you’ve got two letters in.”
I sifted through the pile of mail on the table. Electric bills, pre-graduation reminders, a letter from the mayor, I stopped in the middle of the pile on a simple white card. It was addressed to me from New Delhi, which could only mean it was from one person.
My Dad.
This was the reason why Mom had left him. He was always in some foreign country reporting on one story or another. He was more familiar with foreign cultures and customs than he was with his own daughter. He had been in Italy when Mom filed the divorce papers, reporting on God-only-knows what. There was always another story with him, some truth to chase that was more interesting than my Mom and I. I resented my Father, but I still loved him.
I glanced at the picture on the front of the postcard.
The Taj Mahal.
Fascinating.
Although I hated all of the postcards that were proof that he went to all these exotic locations, I still kept them. They were my lifeline to him, the only connection I still had to a father who was never really there. There’s a box in my room filled with all of the postcards that he sent to my Mom and I. There must be hundreds of them in that box by now.
Hundreds of places he would rather have been.
I sighed and flipped the card over.
Hey Pumpkin,
YOU ARE READING
The Track
ChickLitRory and Zander have been best friends since the third grade. They've shed both tears and blood and forged a bond that has endured ten years. But Zander isn't just any best friend, he's a professional Motocross Rider. When they realize their feel...
