“Not sure, pumpkin.” Maybe one of the neighbors, I guess, but my gut told me different.
This was why we were home early and not eating pizza.
I stepped into the house, Mia’s small hand in mine. “We’re home!”
Marc sat on the sofa, his posture tense, next to a woman with short, dark hair wearing a sundress. Something about her tugged at my memory, but I couldn’t quite place her.
“Papi!” Mia squealed, breaking free from my grip and launching herself at Marc.
He caught her, his face softening as he hugged her close. “Hey,mija. Look who came to visit—your Aunt Becca.”
Recognition dawned on me. Becca was Jacob’s sister, someone I had met during the Christmas holidays when we visited Jacob’s family in Dallas. What was she doing here now?
Did this have to do with Jacob?
Mia turned to Becca, her face lighting up. “Aunt Becca!” She threw her arms around the woman, who returned the hug with a warm smile.
Becca gasped as she took in the sight of Mia. “Look at you! Look how big you’ve gotten since Christmas,” she said, her voice tinged with wonder and sadness.
Marc stood, crossing the room to me. “Hey,” he said softly, placing a hand on my arm and dropping a kiss on my temple. “Becca called a few hours ago, asked if she could come talk to us. She drove down from Dallas.”
I nodded, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. Marc’s ex-husband’s sister, here, out of the blue. What did it mean?
Becca looked up, her eyes meeting mine. “Hey Ken,” she said, her voice warm but slightly hesitant. “Good to see you again.”
Marc squeezed my shoulder gently before taking my hand and guiding us toward the other sofa where we sat down. I managed to smile, though it felt strained. “You too.”
We’d taken Mia to Dallas during the Christmas holidays last year to spend some time with Jacob’s family. Everyone had been polite enough to me, and while I never felt completely at ease, it was clear that Jacob’s family was embarrassed by his abandonment of Marc and Mia, and he remained some giant elephant in the room that no one wanted to talk about.
Mia tugged at Becca’s dress, her eyes wide with hope. “Aunt Becca, have you seen my other daddy? Is he here too?”
The room went still. Marc tensed beside me, his hand tightening on my arm.
Becca’s smile faltered, and she glanced at Marc before answering. “No, Mia. I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen your dad in a long time either. He’s… he’s been busy—but I’m sure he misses you too.”
The words hung in the air.
Mia nodded, her small shoulders slumping. The sight of her disheartened face tugged at my heartstrings. I wished there was something to take away her pain, to shield her from the complexities of adult decisions.
I glanced at Marc, trying to read his expression. His jaw was tight, eyes stormy with emotions he was clearly trying to keep in check.
Finally, he pulled Mia close to him. “Hey—it’s okay,princesa,” Marc murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I know we had plans for pizza tonight, so why don’t we just order some to be delivered. Does that sound okay?”
Mia nodded, but a light had gone out of her eyes.
I vowed to myself that I’d never let any actions of mine make her feel like that, disappointed and unloved. But I knew that life was messy and complicated, and all we could do was love each other through it.
The living room felt fuller than usual, charged with an unspoken energy. Becca gave Mia another one-armed hug, she turned back toward me. “Marc was telling me that you teach at the same school that Mia goes to.” There was an awkward pause as we all stood there, unsure of what to say next.
I nodded, my throat suddenly dry. “That’s right. I teach kindergarten, but Mia’s just finishing up first grade now.” I glanced at Mia, who beamed at the mention of her name. “She’s doing wonderfully, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
Mia nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing. “I can read chapter books now!”
A surge of pride washed over me, momentarily displacing the unease that had settled in my chest. I caught Marc’s eye and saw a flicker of the same emotion there.
“And she’s quite the athlete too,” Marc chimed in, his voice warm with fatherly pride. “Tell Aunt Becca about your soccer team.”
Mia’s face lit up. “I scored three goals this season!” she exclaimed, holding up three fingers for emphasis.
