Page 71 of Ethan

Her mother stepped inside and looked around.

“It’s lovely,” she said.

Naomi closed the door and turned to face her.

“Sit down,” she said. “And say what you came to say.”

Linda sat on the edge of the sofa; her hands folded in her lap and looked around the apartment as most people did when they were buying time.

Naomi didn’t sit. She leaned against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed and waited.

“You look like me,” Linda said finally.

“I know.”

“Your grandmother used to send me photos. When you were little.” She looked down at her hands. “I kept every one of them.”

“She never told me that.”

“I asked her not to.” Linda looked up. “I wasn’t ready. I kept telling myself I’d come back when I was ready and then the years just—” She stopped. “There’s no excuse. I know that.”

“Then stop looking for one.”

Linda nodded. She was quiet for a moment.

“I have a daughter,” she said. “Bethany. She’s twenty-eight.”

Naomi said nothing.

“She knows about you. She’s known for years. She’s the one who pushed me to find you.” Linda’s voice softened when she talked about her. “She’s a good girl.”

“I’m sure she is.” Naomi kept her voice even. “You kept her.”

“Yes.” Linda didn’t look away. “I did.”

“Why?” It came out before she could stop it. The question she’d been carrying her whole life, the one she’d told herself she didn’t need answered anymore. “Why her and not me? What was different?”

Linda’s eyes filled again. “I was older. I was in a stable relationship. I was ready. None of those things were true when I had you.”

“So, I was just bad timing.”

“No.” Linda shook her head. “You were—” Her voice broke. “You were something I was in no way ready for.”

“Then you should have kept your legs closed at seventeen,” Naomi said, and heard her mother gasp. She didn’t care.

Naomi uncrossed her arms and looked out the window at the pastures below. Jewel was moving along the fence line in the morning sun, unhurried and easy.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Naomi said.

“I don’t want anything from you.” Linda’s voice was steady now. “I just want you to know that I’m sorry. That not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about you.” She hesitated. “And that if you ever wanted to know me, I’d like that. But I’ll understand if you don’t.”

Naomi looked at her.

She looked like her mother. She’d always known it but seeing it up close, at this age, was something different entirely. Same blonde hair, same jawline, same eyes that gave too much away when she wasn’t careful.

She thought about what Ethan had said in the kitchen that night.

She missed out on knowing you.