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I shake my head and say, “It must have been so long ago.”
That sounds a lot better than, “I never had a plushy like that, but Izzy did.”
It’s still in her old room, accumulating dust. Sometimes I think she wants to remember something about me but all she comes out with are memories of my sister. Or maybe it’s what Gabe told me: at this stage, memories blur—it’s kinder to just let her nostalgia flow unhindered.
Since we have little time left together, I dare to ask, “What happened with you and Dad? Why did you get divorced?”
“You,” she answers.
I stare at her, not knowing how to react to her response. Me. It was my fault?
“Well, it wasn’t you, but . . . We were on vacation and got into a car accident. The doctors needed your blood type, but we didn’t know it.They tested and found AB negative . . .” She goes silent. “As you might know, it’s pretty rare. It happened to match Declan’s blood type. He was your dad’s best friend. Richard just knew right away you weren’t his, but Declan’s.”
Numb.
I can’t feel anything.
There’s a name and a reason.
It takes me several breaths to react to what she just said. I have another father who obviously didn’t care to claim me.
“Where is my real father? Where’s Declan?” I ask, not because I hope that he can be my family, but out of curiosity.
“He died in that car accident,” she responds.
I’m struck speechless, a lump rising in my throat. Did he know about me? Would he have cared? I wish I could ask, but it’s far too late now either way. The chance was gone before I ever knew it existed.
“He asked me to leave when we found out I was pregnant. But I couldn’t bear to lose Izzy and Cedric too. I chose trying to keep our family together . . .” She pauses, taking a breath and I should tell her to stop but I can’t speak. This is like watching a train about to crash against a wall. I can’t stop it but I can’t look away either. “That was until the accident exposed everything.”
Tears gather in her tired eyes. “After Richard found out, he fought for full custody of the three of you. He wanted to hurt me. If I ever contacted you, he’d stop talking to you. You’re now twenty, and I thought it was safe, but . . . I’m sorry he disowned you.”
A sob chokes out of her. It takes every ounce of my will to stem the flood of questions and hurt.
My heart cracks, questions shriveling away. Now isn’t the time to lay blame or make excuses. “It’s okay, Mom,” I murmur, blinking back tears of my own as I cling to composure.
What am I supposed to do with all that information? I’ll never find my father, Richard won’t forgive me, and Mom is dying.
“I’m just glad to be here with you now. That’s what matters,” I tell her, blinking back tears as I pat her hand.
“You look so much like your father,” she murmurs weakly. “He loved you so much, you know?” Her eyes drift shut in exhaustion.
“You should rest.” I smooth her blankets. “Save your energy for when we bake Christmas cookies.” I press a soft kiss to her forehead.
Stepping out into the hall, Gabe pulls me into a fierce embrace.
“Did you hear?” I ask, hoping he did so I’m spared repeating one of the most painful conversations I’ve had in my entire life.
“Yeah, baby. I’m sorry.” He rests his forehead against mine. “I wish I could take this pain away.”
“You’re making everything manageable.” I hug him tight, and he presses me closer to him.
* * *
Wanting to surprise Mom when she wakes up, I head to the kitchen to bake cookies. Gabe leaves since he has to help Piper with Archer’s present. Under different circumstances, I would offer to go with him so I could finally meet his family.
I’m just measuring the ingredients when a woman with silver-streaked hair enters the room carrying containers. Right behind her is Jude.
“Oh, I didn’t know . . .” She suddenly stops and asks, “Who are you?”
