Something Jo said earlier about Abby is stuck on repeat in my mind.She’s first chair…as a thirteen-year-old. Then Abby’s correction.Basicallyfourteen in two months.
I go still as a statue, laser focused on my mom and Cassie on either side of Abby. Cassie says something that makes everyone laugh and my eyes zero in on each of their faces. First I look at my mom’s, then Cassie’s, and finally Abby’s. Those eyes are the very ones that stare back at me from the mirror every morning. Same shape. Same color. Same ones my mom and Cassie have. Her hair is dark like mine, but her face? Well, that’s all Jo. What a beautiful girl she is.
Though the truth is suddenly crystal clear before my eyes, my mind still counts in reverse, my heart rate picking up speed along the way. Abby will be fourteen in two months. Fully aware of how much time has passed since I last held Jo in my arms, it doesn’t take a mathematician to work this one out. This would explain Jo’s behavior. If she’s keeping a secret of this magnitude from me, no wonder she’s been cagey.
Austin is speaking, but it’s like I’m under water, aware of sounds but unable to make out words. Does he know? Am I the fool who couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious to everyone else? Now that my mind has latched onto this idea, I can’t unsee it.
The resemblance is so strong—I can’t believe I didn’t realize it immediately. Abby even has mannerisms like me. The other day,the photo I saw with Abby wearing a look of intense concentration. I’ve caught myself hundreds of times, face screwed up in an identical expression. Yes, all signs point to Abby being my child, and if that’s the case, why is Jo keeping it from me?
Overcome by a maelstrom of emotions, the room goes silent as I stride into the dining room and lean down to Jo’s ear.
“We need to talk.”
Through the rush of blood in my ears, I hear Penny tell the kids to follow her to the living room for the newest episode of some show. It’s all just sounds and syllables right now as I work to gain control of myself.
“Why?” My voice breaks on the word, proving I’m not as in control as I thought.
I’m leaning, palms braced on the wooden railing of Penny’s porch, so overcome with this news I’m shaking. The thought of Jo, living here all this time without me, raising our child feels monumentally wrong. How on earth will I make up for all the time I’ve lost? So much to account for, so much catching up to do—that is, if she’ll let me. Showing up like this, years too late, fills me with regret, an ache forming deep within my chest.
Jo’s breathing, uneven and shaky, leaves her with no response.
Spinning to face her, I take her hand in mine. The truth is right here, plain as day between us, but so I know I’m not jumping to conclusions or wishing for things that aren’t there, I have to ask.
“Abby’s my daughter, isn’t she?”
Jo’s eyes bounce from my hand to my face. Her throat works on a swallow and she nods.
“Why, Jo? Tell me why, when I took you home the other day, this wasn’t the first thing you told me? Don’t I deserve to know something like this?”
She takes a breath and lets it out slowly, a general air of despondence swirling around her.
“Didyou plan on telling me?”
“Yes, I was just…” Her words trail off and she squeezes her eyes shut like she’s warring with her thoughts. We sit in silence, Jo taking steadying breaths. When her eyes open again something has changed, a decision made. “I’m scared, Tyler? Terrified, actually.”
My face screws into a frown. “Scared ofwhat,exactly?”
Jo steps closer, leaning her back against the porch railing, staring straight ahead. The sigh she releases sounds like it comes from the depths of her soul, and all the frustration I was feeling dissipates, replaced by the urge to reach for her, to say something that will unravel whatever knot she’s tying inside her mind. Whatever’s going on in there, I want nothing more than to put her mind at ease, to work through this together. Surely we can figure this out.
“Tyler,” she begins, voice so small I can scarcely believe it’s coming from the woman next to me. “People don’t stick around for me. You’ll see. I’ll ruin this for Abby.”
It takes a few seconds for my mind to catch up to her meaning, but when it does, I can only stare in disbelief. She thinks I’m the kind of man who would up and leave my child?
“Jo,” I say, pitching my voice softer, willing her to hear the truth in my words. “I want to make myself perfectly clear. Let’s start with you. Do you think if I’d known you were here I could have stayed away? Add in a child, and I’d have been here with you in a heartbeat. Now that I do know, wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”
“You can’t know that from a few days here, Tyler. We’re strangers now.”
“Maybe we are strangers, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to remedy that.”
Finally, her gaze flickers to mine, a modicum of relief in herexpression. I bump my shoulder against hers and she cracks a smile.
“Hey. Listen to me. We’ll figure this out, yeah? We’ll tell Abby and figure it out together—you and me.”
Jo’s smile falls from her face. “About that. Can we give it a minute before we tell her? Everything is happening so fast and I need some time with it.”
While I hate the idea of putting this off, I have to trust Jo knows what she’s doing. I don’t know the first thing about teenage girls, so maybe this is the right move. Not wanting to overwhelm her by pressing too much too soon, I’ll leave the ball in her court for how to approach this with Abby.
“I’ll follow your lead, but like I said, we’ll figure this out.”
