Harlyn
When Elly asked me out for lunch just the two of us, I should've known something was up. It's not like we don't hang out just the two of us. We do. But there was something about the way that she asked that suggested an ulterior motive. And it doesn't take long for Elly to jump right in after Finley brings us our food.
"Thanks, love," I say. Finley gives me a smile and heads back to the counter.
"So," Elly says, shaking some salt onto her mashed potatoes. "Finley told you about Fran moving in with Nate?"
"Oh, er, yeah. He did."
It was, honestly, the most talkative Finley's been since all the stuff that happened last week. I've been giving him his space, but after work yesterday - one of the first times I'd seen Brandon and Hannah for more than a few minutes - I needed some Finley time. And he held me on his bed and talked. And talked. About Fran and how her moving out was just another thing he was worrying about. About how he hasn't talked to Max on the phone in weeks and it's bumming him out. It was nice. Felt normal.
I'm so far into the memory that I don't see Elly's next question coming.
"So, would you finally give in and move in with us?"
I nearly choke on a bite of chicken. "El... we've talked about this."
She puts her hands up. "I know. I know. Just...listen for two seconds, alright?" I nod. "I know you're not ready to leave home. I don't...understand that, but that's not the point. I think this would be really good for you. It's like...a stepping stone to living on your own. Or living with Finley." Her eyes skitter to the counter and back. "And I know that changes things. When I asked you to move in over the summer, he wasn't living with us. So, it'll be a whole different situation, like, half moving in with your boyfriend. But..." She shrugs. "Can you think about it? Like really think about it?"
"I have thought about it."
"Have you?" She raises an eyebrow at me, and I fidget in my chair.
"I mean, a little."
I have thought about it. Just not...very hard. Usually, I get as far as 'leaving home' and 'leaving Mum,' and my brain shuts down. Thinking about that now, it feels very childish. And it's exactly the opposite of what I've been trying to do recently - confront my own thoughts. Maybe I haven't been thinking about it as hard as I should.
"Alright," I whisper. "I'll think about it more. I promise."
She gives me a bright smile. "Good. I... I'm not trying to pressure you. I'm really not. I mean, I would really really like to live with you. I think it would be a party, living with my best friend. I just...I really want you to think about it. Talk to Finley about it."
"I will."
After we go our separate ways, I head home. And it's all I can think about. It's probably a good thing, since I just had the epiphany not half an hour ago that I haven't thought about it in depth enough. But I also realized I haven't thought about it very deeply because...well, the idea is terrifying. My initial gut reaction to moving out is terror.
And that's the thing. The thought of moving in with Elly and Finley doesn't really scare me. Yes, it would take some adjusting, and it would be a serious conversation Finley and I would need to have. But it's the thought of leaving home that makes me so nervous. I'm not sure how to process that. Or what it means.
When I get home, Mum's in the kitchen loading a plate and glass into the dishwasher. "Oh, Harlyn, darling. I didn't hear you come in. How was lunch with Elly?"
"It was good." I busy myself with making a cup of tea, hoping Mum won't notice my mood. But, of course, it's Mum, so she sees right through me.
"Harlyn? What is it?"
I lean my hip against the counter and chew at my lip, willing the water to boil faster. It won't, and while I know Mum won't force me to talk, I find that I kind of want to talk to her about this. So, I take a deep breath. "Francesca is moving out of Elly and Finley's flat. Moving in with her boyfriend."
"Well, that's nice," Mum says, mirroring my pose against the sink. "A little sudden since she just moved in with them."
"She said they'd talked about it before. Kind of. But she was scared so she put it off. And recently, she decided to go for it." I shrug. "And, of course, that leaves a room open. And Elly asked, again, if I'll move in."
"Ah." She nods slowly, brushing a blonde curl out of her eyes. "And you don't want to?"
I pause. "I don't...know what I want. That's the problem."
She nods solemnly again. "Well, why have you said no in the past? I know she's asked you a few times."
"Yeah, like twelve. And I always just told her I wasn't ready to move out yet. And I just...I don't know, Mum."
"Alright, calm down, darling." Mum moves forward to rub her hands up and down my arms. "Can I point out something I've...noticed? Or...actually, something I've wanted to ask about before?"
"OK?" I can't read her face. Usually, I know exactly what she's thinking or can guess what she's going to say next. But I haven't seen this face often, and I'm not sure what to make of it.
"Did you stay in Canterbury - go to Christ Church, live at home - because you didn't want to leave me? Because you were worried about me?" This face I know. This is the face that says she knows the answer.
I look down at the buttons on her cardigan. "Maybe."
She moves her hands to my cheeks. "My darling. Are you still worried about me now?"
"Maybe," I hedge. But she's struck gold. She's made it to the heart of it. I don't want to abandon Mum. That sounds so strange. She's an adult. She's my mum. I know logically I wouldn't be abandoning her. But I can't stop thinking about the stuff still in Marley's room. The way she looked so lost when he left for Uni. I don't want to do that to her. "Marley just got married. I don't want you to lose me, too."
"Oh, my sweet boy." She folds me into her arms. "I'm not going to lose you. I haven't lost Marley. You two are just growing up. I know you're not going to stay here forever." She pushes me to arm's length. "Of course I'll miss you. But you'll only be a few minutes away."
"But -"
"No buts, Harlyn." The kettle whistles, and Mum lets go of me completely to take it off the burner. I turn to gather mugs and a couple bags of tea. "I was...a bit thrown when Marley left for Uni. I wasn't prepared, even though I knew it was coming. I don't think it helped that the next year was when Adrianna died." Elly's mum. She and Mum were good friends. Both our families have always been close. It makes a lot of sense that that added to her being a little untethered the first couple years after Marley moved out.
Mum pours the hot water over our tea bags, and we move to sit at the table. "But I adjusted. If you remember, it was only a few months later that we started our book club. Our friend group was all so shaken by Adrianna's death. It was so sudden. And we'd all met because of our kids being the same age and starting Primary school together. So, everyone had kids starting Uni. Book club was a way we could all get together every week and talk and read books and... drink wine." She gives me a sly smile over the edge of her mug.
"The only reason you go to book club, hm?"
"Sometimes," she chuckles. "Anyway, I adjusted. We started hosting students. Which I could always do more of if you decide to move out. But my point is," she lays her hand over mine on the table, "it's not your job to take care of me. Or your dad. We're adults. It's our job to take care of you. Sure, it'll be weird for us to be empty nesters. But if this is what you want, what's going to be good for you...then do it."
I stare at my tea, the slight glare on the surface. It still immediately feels so weird to think about moving out. I've only ever lived here. In this house. In my bedroom. And honestly? I'm going to miss things like this - sitting and drinking tea with Mum, coming home to see Mum and Dad having their nightly conversation, wandering into the living room to play the piano whenever I want. But like Mum said, I won't be far away. Maybe it would be good for me.
"Maybe. I have a bit to think about it. Fran's not moving out right away." I take a sip of tea. "And I need to talk to Finley about it. It would be...interesting moving in together but not moving in together, you know?"
She nods slowly again. "It would be. It would be different."
We sit in relative silence while we finish our tea. When I get to my room, I text Finley since he's probably off work now.
Me: So, Elly talked to me about moving in.
Me: Did you know she was going to ask me?
Finley: I did. Sorry I didn't warn you.
Me: No. It's fine. Just surprised she didn't ask you to do it.
Finley: Well, it's definitely something we need to talk about if you're considering it.
Finley: Are you considering it?
I hesitate for a minute. I am considering it. Would he be ok if I was considering it? I can't tell his tone over text.
Me: I think I am. Just had a long conversation with Mum, and I think I worked out why moving out has scared me for so long.
Finley: Oh really?
Me: Call?
Me: Or do you want to come over?
It's an excruciating five minutes before he answers.
Finley: I can be there in half an hour?
Exactly thirty-two minutes later, there's a knock on the door, Mum's muffled voice greeting Finley, and his footsteps up the stairs. He knocks and pushes the door open.
"Hi, love," I greet, sitting up straighter on my bed and letting my knees drop open so he can sit with me if he wants. But I don't push him.
He presses a quick kiss to my forehead and sinks between my ankles. It's not as close as I'd like, but at least he didn't sit in my desk chair or anything.
"Hi." He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. I decide not to comment. Yet. "So. Picking up where we left off?"
"Sure." I tuck my legs into a crisscross position so I can lean closer to him. "So, I was talking to Mum. And she asked if I'd stayed in Canterbury and decided to live at home for Uni because I was worried about her."
"Ah, yes," he says, as if this doesn't surprise him in the slightest. I squint at him, and he shrugs. "We've talked about this before, remember? That trip we took together to the London Transport Museum last term. And I told you a bit too bluntly that you didn't take care of yourself enough."
I snort. "Of course. I forgot about that. Well, she asked if that's why I'm still having a hard time thinking about moving out now."
Finley's eyes soften slightly, and he scoots closer and grabs my hands. "You selfless dork."
"Is that a compliment?" I ask.
"Maybe. What did your mom say?"
"That I shouldn't base my decision on her. That she'd be fine."
"Do you believe that?"
That makes me pause. "Er, yes? I mean, logically, yes. I know my mum will be fine. Dad'll be fine. And I'd only be a few minutes away. It's not like I'm moving to a different country."
Finley's face splits into a massive grin. "Except you considered moving to the States."
"I did." I smile back. I can't help it. He hasn't smiled like this in weeks. "And I would've, too. But I would've gone through all of these...mental gymnastics first. Just like I am now."
"Well, is there anything else keeping you here?"
"I don't know. I'd miss them. I've only ever lived here. You know how hard it is for me to sleep in new places."
"You were fine when you slept over on Halloween," he reminds me.
I tilt my head. "That's because you were there. In the same bed. I slept better in Paris when you slept with me, too."
"Well...I'd be there." He chews on the inside of his cheek. "Not in the same bed or room or anything. But I'd be just a floor away. You could always come get me if you needed me."
"You'd...be alright with that?"
He looks at me like I've lost my mind. "Of course."
"And... how would you feel about me moving in?"
He squints at me a little, like he's trying to read my thoughts. Just like on many other occasions, I wish he could. I'm getting better at talking about my feelings, but I'm still not great. And ever since our trip to Windsor, I feel like I'm walking on eggshells around him. Around our relationship.
That feeling doubles when he shuts down, retreating literally and figuratively in a way that makes me squirm. His shoulders hike up to his ears, and his eyes look everywhere but at me. "It's really up to you, sweetheart."
I frown. That's not...entirely true. Sure, it's my choice if I move. But this is going to affect him, too. It's not like choosing where we eat dinner or where to explore in Windsor or what to watch on Netflix. We're not just friends, buddies about to share a flat. We're dating. That...matters, right? I want to point that out, but the eggshells are eerily present tonight. So, I don't.