Kendra is only fifteen! I am really not sure she is ready to go away to boarding school. It is all so New England. These families send their children off to be raised by someone else. Marcus thinks it will build independence and that Kendra will make lifelong friends. He says the network is invaluable. What do I know? I am a California girl. Sunshine, fast cars, beaches, families who argue loudly and with spirit and families who never stop talk to each other. Marcus would let Kendra go in a heartbeat. And I wonder how life would be for Kayla, at home with just the two of us? Would that be a good thing for her?
This is a freakin’ big decision. Julia brought us to Whately Prep and has made certain we have had a tour of the entire campus. She suggested that the three of us walk up to the apiary. It’s near the top of the hill heading toward Quonquont Farm. The many names that are from Native American roots leave me awkwardly shaping words in my mouth. Hammonassett, Mohegan, Narragansett, Pequot, Wampanoag, Pocumtuck, Metacomet. The Polish immigrants brought with them their diligent work ethic and names consisting of many vowels. Krakowski, Janowitch, Wcislo, Nowak, Paskevich. Julia suggested we all meet for lunch in the school's dining common.
“Are you girls ready?” I ask Kayla and Kendra. It’s a short walk, let’s go buy some honey.”
“Buy honey? I thought we were going to an apiary,” says Kayla.
“And what do they have at apiaries, Kayla?”
“Birds, of course.”
I quickly turn away so she doesn’t catch my smile. Oh, the drama if she thinks I am laughing at her!
Kendra uses a condescending tone when she drawls, “Don’t you mean an aviaary?”
“Whatever. Let’s go, already.”
We walked single file up the narrow road leading toward the center of Whately. As I took in the bucolic view of this town, I could imagine Kendra making a life here.