Pippa said, “One more day of winter hols. Are you keen to swim tomorrow? Mum says you’re a brilliant swimmer.”
Brilliance had nothing to do with it. “I’m on the swim team at home. Here, too, I hope?”
Felicity said, “They’re keen to have you.”
“Thank you.”
“And Erin needs to do some school shopping tomorrow, Pippa.”
Hamish said, “Cello in an orchestra and competitive swimming and studies, Erin? Sounds a little intense, even by American standards.”
Intense was the perfect word for it. “It all fits together.”
“But how?” Felicity asked.
“Orchestra is only Saturdays, year-round. In summer, I take two or three intensive courses and compete in a summer swimming league to keep in shape. During the school year, I swim before and after school.”
“So Sundays are free.”
“To study, yeah.”
“And your parents? Are they just as busy?”
“Yeah. My dad was the youngest lawyer to ever make partner at his firm. My mom is the first ever female managing partner at hers.”
Felicity was not appropriately impressed. “How do you ever find time together?”
“At night, except if Mom has a case that keeps her late. Saturday afternoons in winter. Summer Saturdays, they usually sail on their friends’ boats. But, yeah, we’re all busy. I think, maybe, life is a lot faster at home.”
“That’s one word for it.” Hamish un-muted the television.
Felicity walked Erin toward the bedrooms. “Thought you might like to settle in this afternoon. Tomorrow, as I told Pippa, we’ll buy your school things. Monday I’ll get you to school and you can choose your classes.”
Erin nodded.
“This all must be a little unsettling for you. How can we make this feel more like home?”
Erin bit her lip. “I’m fine. Just jet-lagged. I should lie down.”
Felicity gave her a loose hug. “Tea at half six.”
Tea wasn’t really her thing, but she nodded to her host mother and retreated.
SEVEN
Alone in Pippa’s room, Erin texted Lalitha again.
Erin: I tell you I’ve made a huge mistake and you say nothing?
Erin: I’m all alone in a frigid country. What are YOU doing?
Illinois was seventeen hours behind Christchurch, but Erin thought of it as seven hours ahead and a day behind. So it was 8 p.m. yesterday there. Friday. Lalitha should be out of swim practice.
Erin connected her phone and computer to Wi-Fi using the password Hamish had given her: @llBl@cks.
That’s offensive, right? All blacks what?
She pulled on her gloves and zipped into her down jacket before lying on the narrow twin bed. Still freezing, she crawled under the covers—a thin down comforter and low thread count duvet—and rubbed her feet together to warm them.
This was the warmest time of day. She was so screwed.
No. She’d focus in the freezing cold and remain hypervigilant. Perhaps she could go home after the national swim meet. A national title would prove she deserved admission to Columbia and her legacy status would seal the deal. Columbia would propel Erin into a great medical school, a great job, and a great life. Her future still was within her grasp.
Winning the national meet would be her unique factor.
Her focus was crystal clear.
Until the jet lag pulled her under.
Erin grabbed her passport and—on second thought—her favorite striped sweater before rejoining her parents in the car. “Sorry about that!”
“All set?” Mitchell asked as he eyed his daughter in the rearview mirror. “I hope you get to explore while you’re down under.”
Claire stopped tapping on her phone. “No, Mitchell. Exploring is not unique. Sightseeing is not exceptional. Erin needs to appear exceptional.”
Claire twisted in her seat and waited until Erin made eye contact. “Sweetie, if you start thinking you can’t win at Nationals, you find whatever it is that’s going to make you seem unique. I know you are exceptional, but we have to prove it to Columbia. The unique factor will make you an exceptional candidate. If it weren’t for those Quigleys, you would look exceptional already, but now we’ll take a different tack.” She faced forward again. “Drive, Mitchell.”
Erin pressed her fingers into her tiniest pocket to feel the indent of the treasure she’d put there. The panicked crescendo of the previous months reached full frenzy on the ride to the airport. Claire had looked up New Zealand’s butterfly records, so Erin knew she would do well in swimming, but could she win? Would her team welcome her?
How difficult was the transition to driving on the left? Would she like her host family? Would they like her? Would her Wheaton friends miss her? Could she make new ones?
Would she find her unique factor and get into Columbia?
What if she didn’t?
At the airport, Erin unloaded several items from her suitcase and weighed it three times before it met weight requirements. Attempts to shove her toiletry kit into her carry-on were futile, so she tucked it under her arm and headed for security.
“Once you’re inside security, buy some Garrett’s cheese-and-caramel popcorn for the construction-worker father,” Claire said.
Mitchell shook his daughter’s hand before wrapping her in an awkwardly snug hug. “I’ll miss you, kid.”
There were no tears.
“I’ll be home for Christmas, Dad.”
_________
For the length of the security line, Erin’s parents walked next to her, Claire tapping on her phone and Mitchell offering last-minute travel advice: keep your eyes on your carry-on at all times, put your computer in a gray plastic bin, stay hydrated in flight, call upon arrival.
At the turn, where they could no longer hug over the stanchions, Mitchell said, “I guess this is good-bye.”
And there were the tears.
“Keep it together, Mitchell,” Claire said. She made a kiss sound to Erin. “Find your unique factor. We’ll keep in touch.”
“I promise this will work,” Erin said.
Mitchell leaned into the line for one last hug. “Love you, kid.”
“Love you both,” Erin said.
Claire held Mitchell’s elbow with her left hand and continued texting as they walked away. They disappeared and Erin counted to one hundred before pulling Grandma Tea’s ring out of her pocket and slipping it onto
