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She laughs once, sharp and too bright. “At least you’re honest.”
“Tabitha, it’s not what you think.”
“It never is, Henry.” She pauses a moment. “So tell me. No, let me guess. Francine’s what… Your accountant? A nun?”
I clear my throat. “Francine is my mother. My birth mother.”
Something clatters in my ear. She must have dropped her phone.
A few seconds later?—
“I’m sorry. What?”
“My birth mother,” I say. “Didn’t Angie tell you that I’m only her half brother?”
Did she? It may not be anything Angie or my other siblings think about. I don’t think about it. Most of the time, anyway.
“Are you going to say anything?” I ask.
“Yeah. Sure. I thought…”
“I know what you thought, amber. You thought I had some other woman on the side.” I chuckle. “I can’t even handle you. How could I possibly handle two women?”
“I didn’t know what to think, Henry. I still don’t. You want a future, but you let me go. You let me go, let me believe…”
“I know. I’m a mess. But you already know all of that. I felt I had to answer her call. She’s never called me before. I thought something might be wrong.”
“All right, I guess I can?—”
My phone interrupts with another call.
Francine?
She’s got to be kidding me.
“I’m sorry, I have another call,” I say.
“Okay.”
“I’ll call you back.”
“Don’t bother. Call back tomorrow. It’s late. I need to get to bed. Seminar starts early.”
The call ends with a click.
Have I screwed this up again?
God…
“Yeah?” I say to Francine, a little harsher than I mean to.
“Hey, sugar. I just wanted to apologize for the way I was earlier.”
“No worries. It’s not like I expected you to keep my first baby shoes or anything.”
“Actually, I did.”
Surprise whirls through me. “Say what?”
