15October
The evening was chilly, the October sky already a dull grey outside the mullioned windows. I sat in my favourite armchair by the fire, needles clicking as I knitted a scarf for John. The yarn stretched longer with each stitch, while I kept stealing glances at my husband hunched over a notebook at the kitchen table, his forehead creased as he scribbled something and occasionally rubbed his eyes.
The house was wrapped in its usual, cosy hush, broken only by the steady ticking of the old mantel clock and the occasional crackle of the logs. Then, abruptly, the front door swung open.
The sudden screech of the hinges made both of us jump.
Standing in the doorway was our daughter, Lydia. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling, and a strange, excited grin tugged at her lips.
Mum, Dad, I have amazing news! she announced.
John and I exchanged a look. I set my needles down slowly, and John, without taking his eyes off her, lifted his hand to cover his notes.
Alright, go on, he said cautiously, feeling a knot of unease twist in his chest.
Lydia stepped forward, beaming.
Im quitting university!
The room seemed to fill with a heavy, drowning silence, as if the air had turned to water.
What?! I gasped, the knitting needle slipping from my fingers and clattering to the floor with a soft chime.
Youve gone mad! John snapped, standing abruptly.
Lydia only laughed, waving her hand as if we were overreacting.
Now thats panic! Im not doing this on a whim. Ive found the purpose of my life.
What is it? I clenched the armchairs arms until my knuckles went white.
Lydia breathed in deeply, her eyes flaring brighter.
Im going to become a traveller!
Silence hung again.
What? John muttered, the word tasting like a burn on his tongue.
Yes! Simple as that. Ill hitchhike around the world, stay in hostels, pick up any work I can, meet people, keep a blog
My face went pale.
Lydia, you realise thats absolute nonsense, dont you?
Why? she frowned. Its freedom!
Freedom? Johns teeth clenched. Its recklessness! You have no idea what lies ahead!
Surely, the start will be hard, Lydia shrugged. But Im not alone. Youll help, wont you?
What what for? Mum sprang up, her voice trembling.
Well with money, at least at the beginning, until I can stand on my own feet.
So you expect us to fund your escape from reality? Johns expression hardened to stone.
And how else? Lydias eyes went wide with surprised innocence. Youre my parents, after all!
I felt my heart seize.
Lydia weve invested so much in you so many hopes
And I have no right to my own life?
You do, John said suddenly, firm as steel. But if you truly consider yourself an adult, you must sort your own problems.
Lydia froze.
So youre refusing to help? she asked, her voice sharp.
Were not going to rescue you from the consequences of your own choice.
She exhaled sharply, her eyes flashing.
Fine then! Ill manage without you!
She spun and slammed the door, shaking the walls.
A heavy, oppressive quiet settled over the room.
John sank back into his chair, his hands shaking.
Goodness what have we done? I whispered.
Nothing, he answered heavily, sitting beside me. Just gave her a chance to think.
The next morning Lydia didnt appear for breakfast. John and I sipped our tea in silence, stealing nervous glances at her closed bedroom door, listening for any sound.
When the door finally opened, Lydia slipped in, pale, dark circles under her eyes, hair in disarray as if she hadnt slept at all.
I Ive changed my mind, she said.
Relief washed over me, bringing tears close to my eyes.
Thank heavens
I havent slept a wink, she continued, voice barely a whisper. I kept thinking what if I cant cope? What if I get cheated, robbed, abandoned somewhere?
John reached for the kettle without a word. A thick stream of black coffee filled a porcelain mug, steam curling into the cool morning air like the smoke from a dying fire. He pushed the mug toward Lydia, the simple gesture full of unspoken understanding.
So youve decided to finish your degree after all? he asked, his usual firmness softened.
Lydia clasped the mug with both hands, as if warming chilled fingers. She took a slow sip, then a deep breath, and her shoulders seemed to drop a weight theyd been bearing.
Yes her voice trembled. I still want to travel, just not now. When things are stable. When I can be sure of tomorrow.
A faint smile tugged at Johns mouth. He nodded, and something warmperhaps pride, perhaps reliefshone in his eyes.
Thats sensible, he said, and those plain words felt like the highest praise.
I could no longer hold back. I rose, wrapped my arms around Lydias shoulders, pulling her close. In that embrace there was a tenderness that made her lean into me, her own body betraying a tremor. I ran my fingers through her hair, each gentle stroke whispering, Its alright, love. It will be alright.
The important thing is youve understood, I murmured, my voice quivering.
Sorry about yesterday, Lydia muttered.
Its okay, I smiled, eyes glinting. Its wise to draw the right conclusions.
The room settled into a calm silence, no longer tense but peaceful. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, dancing on the surface of Lydias coffee. John cleared his throat and reached for the sugar bowl, clinking a spoon against the cupa familiar household sound that restored a sense of normalcy.
Breakfast continued in an unusually tranquil atmosphere. Lydia ate her scrambled eggs slowly, as if relearning the taste of homecooked food. John leafed through the newspaper, his gaze repeatedly drifting back to her. I sipped my tea at a leisurely pace.
So youre going back to university? Mum asked gently.
Lydia set her fork down, determination shining in her eyes.
Yes. I realised dropping out was foolish. But I want to change my course. Law was your idea, not mine.
John folded the paper. And what do you want to study?
Journalism. Or international relations. So I can later work abroad, legally, on a contract.
Silence fell, this time thoughtful, accepting.
John was the first to speak. That makes sense. He nodded. On Monday well see the dean and ask about transferring.
A laugh escaped me, surprised at its lightness. I can picture Mrs. Whitakers reaction! She was certain youd become a barrister.
A mischievous grin flickered on Lydias face. Let her try becoming a barrister herself at fiftyfive.
We all chuckled, the sound genuine and warm.
Actually, Lydia added, this summer, if youre okay with it, Id like to volunteer in Europe for two weeks, through an exchange programme.
John and I exchanged a look.
Its, Mum began.
No hitchhiking, Lydia interjected quickly. Ill have roundtrip tickets and a phone thats always on.
John let out a heavy sigh, but his eyes showed agreement. Deal. First, finish your studies and get proper preparation.
Lydia nodded, reached for her phone, and dialled.
Hello, Kat? Its me Ive changed my mind Im not quitting What if we sign up for Spanish classes together?
John caught my eye and smiled. In that morning light, over the halffinished coffee, we saw our daughter not just return, but truly grow. And perhaps that was the most important journey of all.
