Chasing Midnight Promises

I zipped the last compartment of my suitcase, heart fluttering with excitement. My final paper was over just two days ago, and I was done with Year Two of my Mass Communications and Media Studies degree at Arizona State University.

Next semester, Year Three will begin. But for now, I was flying home to Times Square, New York City. Nobody knew I was coming. That was the thrill of it.

Raven, my best friend and partner-in-crime, helped me plan the surprise. Our parents would be shocked, and I could already imagine my baby sister Isabella's screams of excitement when she saw me.

At the Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport, I texted Nana, our housekeeper, asking her to make something special for dinner. She was the only one in on the plan. She replied with an enthusiastic yes and emojis that made me smile.

Soon, I boarded the flight and leaned back in my seat. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

When we landed at LaGuardia Airport in New York, the sun was mild but golden. I inhaled the city's familiar air like it was medicine.

I booked a ride immediately, and thirty minutes later, we pulled up in front of our mansion. The tall iron gate, the trimmed hedges, and the fountains dancing in the front yard all screamed home.

Dragging my suitcase along the paved path, I assumed no one was around except Nana. But as I got closer, I saw her head pop out through the window.

Her eyes widened, and she ran out, apron flapping behind her.

“Mia! Oh my goodness, child!” Nana rushed to hug me, arms wide like angel wings.

“Hey, Nana! Don’t tell me you’ve missed me more than I’ve missed you!”

She kissed my cheeks and said, “You grew skinny. What have you been eating? Grass?”

I laughed and wheeled my bag inside. “You’ll feed me back to size in no time.”

The house smelled like vanilla and pinewood. The cream-colored tiles shimmered under the chandelier light, and the scent of cinnamon drifted from the kitchen. “Nana, I’ve missed this house, your food, the air. I could cry!”

She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off with a loud squeal. “I’m finally home!”

“Mia—” she tried again.

“Later, Nana! Let me go upstairs and—”

Then I froze. I heard giggles. Grown-up giggles. My brain stalled for a second.

I took a few steps back toward Nana, eyes narrowed. “Who’s laughing in the kitchen?”

She looked at the ceiling like she hadn’t heard a thing. I tiptoed to the slightly open door and peeped. My mouth parted.

There they were. My parents. Allison and Frederick. Acting like high schoolers on prom night. Mom had flour on her nose. Dad was behind her, arms around her waist, swaying as she stirred something in a pot. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. She slapped his hand playfully, but her giggle gave her away.

My heart melted. They didn’t notice me watching. They were too busy whispering and stealing kisses.

Growing up, our home had always been like this. My parents weren’t just in love; they were addicted to each other. My dad often left work early just to watch mom nap. She always made silly excuses to sit on his lap while watching TV. They danced in the hallway, shared ice cream, and told each other things like it was their first week dating.

Watching them now, I made a silent promise. I would find a man like my father. Or no one at all.

Just as Dad leaned in to kiss Mom again, she spun around with a laugh—and bumped into me. She screamed.

“Mia!” she gasped. “How long have you been standing there?”

I bit my lip. “I just got here.”

Nana giggled from behind me, covering her mouth. My dad looked over Mom’s shoulder and his eyes widened.

“Pumpkin!”

They pulled me into a group hug. I hadn’t realized how much I needed that. I cried.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?” Mom asked, wiping my tears.

“I wanted to surprise you, but instead, Nana surprised me.”

"And I'm guessing she tried to warn you?" Mum said, playfully rolling her eyes at Nana.

“I should have listened.” I grinned, then looked at them suspiciously. “But what are you both doing at home on a Wednesday? I chose today because I knew you’d be at work.”

Dad kissed Mom’s temple. “We decided to take the day off. Just to be together.”

“Aww! That’s it. I’m getting myself a man like Dad or I’m staying single forever!”

I ran upstairs laughing. My room was still the same—sky-blue curtains, soft white bed, photographs of our family along the shelves. I collapsed on my bed, hugged my pillow, and repeated the promise. A man like Dad. Or no one.

Later that afternoon, we had lunch. We talked about school, exams, and my plans for the break. Isabella wasn’t home yet. She was in college too, studying at The City College of New York, and would return by the weekend. I couldn’t wait to see her.

That night, I had a call with Raven.

“Noah’s back too,” she said.

I paused. “Noah Bradford?”

“My brother. Yes. He got in this evening.”

I groaned. "Good thing he didn't fly with us," I said. "I would have refused to board the same flight.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Dramatic? That boy thinks the whole world revolves around him!”

I ended the call and stared at the ceiling. The image of my parents played in my head again. Their love was beautiful, pure, and rare. I whispered once more, “A man like my father. Or nothing.”

By the weekend, Isabella returned. The house felt complete again. We laughed, watched movies, and made pancakes at midnight.

Days passed, and I started following my parents to the Production studio. I learned to handle cameras, sit in on interviews, and even edit scripts. It was refreshing.

Soon, the holidays ended. Year three was here.

Raven arrived to pick me up. I dashed out, only to freeze mid-step.

“Noah?” I scowled. “You didn’t say your brother was coming!”

“We’ll miss our flight if we don’t go now,” she said.

I got in reluctantly. Noah didn’t say a word. He was texting Ava, his girlfriend. I looked away.

I hated him. Not just for being arrogant but for how he treated women like toys.

At the airport, I almost screamed when I saw his seat was between mine and Raven’s.

“Really, Raven?” I whispered.

She shrugged.

As the plane took off, I glanced at Noah’s screen. Messages from girls flooded his W******p. I sighed and muttered under my breath.

“If Noah was the last man alive, I’d stay single forever.”