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“Gross,” Oliver said. “What is that, like a Vito Acconci fur, felt, and seed sort of thing?”
“It’s not exactly common, but people have done it. You know what this means, don’t you?”
Oliver gave her a curious look, but then Finn came back in the room. “Cool, right?” she said. “I always used to wonder who he was painting, but I guess that mystery’s been solved. That’s your mother, isn’t it? You look just like her except for the dark hair.”
“I think so,” Schuyler said.
“What was she like?” Finn asked eagerly. “My mom always told me it was some sort of tragic love story.”
“Well, I guess you could say it was tragic because he died, and after I was born, my mom was in a coma for almost all of my life,” Schuyler said. “Your mom wasn’t—angry? I sort of figured—”
“Mom’s a true romantic,” Finn said. “She was pretty crazy about my dad, but she knew the whole time that he was in love with someone else. That’s why she lied and told him she wasn’t pregnant anymore, so he could go and be with her and not feel guilty.”
“And she told you all of this?” Schuyler was amazed. She’d spent her whole life in the dark, and here was this girl whose mother apparently kept no secrets. What a different life she must have led.
“I guess it was really important to her that I grew up with good feelings about my dad since I didn’t get to know him at all. You’re so lucky,” Finn said suddenly.
“Lucky? How?”
“He loved your mom,” Finn said simply. “Oh, he was
fond of mine, sure, but it wasn’t the same.”
Schuyler shook her head. “No, you were the lucky one. Your mother loved him so much that she let him go because she wanted him to be happy. I bet she was always there for you, wasn’t she?”
“Every moment.” Finn didn’t deny it.
“Decca showed me all the photos—the birthday parties…”
“Yeah, they were pretty epic.”
“If your mom hadn’t lied, our dad would never have left her. He would have done the right thing. He was a good guy.”
“Even if he was, he’s still dead,” Finn said suddenly.
“Yeah.” Schuyler had to agree. Then she realized—she wasn’t alone in her grief—in her missing him. Finn was in the same boat. Here was someone who loved and missed him too, and who’d never known him. Her sister.
“Besides”—Finn shrugged—“Mom turned out to be right about the whole romance thing. She met this fabulous guy when I was twelve, and I’m really close to my stepdad. It’s almost enough to make me believe in true love.”
“Even if you haven’t found it yourself?” Oliver asked with a smile.
Wait a minute—was Schuyler seeing what she thought she was seeing? Oliver Hazard-Perry, blushing? She supposed it made sense. Finn did look a little bit like her, and more important, she was awesome—confident, funny, smart. Normal. Oliver deserved someone like her.
“Not yet,” Finn said, returning the smile with one of her own.
Schuyler could see where this was going, and it made her happy. But it also made her miss Jack desperately. Could it really be this easy for two people to find each other? Why couldn’t it have been that easy for her and Jack? Would she ever see him again? Would they ever be together?
“Earth to Sky,” Oliver said, snapping his fingers in front of her face.
“Sorry. It’s all just so overwhelming.”
“Tell me about it!” Finn agreed. “But I’m just so glad you found me!”
“I am too!” Schuyler said. “Tell me more about our dad, and you. Everything. I want to know everything.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon talking, catching up on the things they’d missed out on, not growing up together. Schuyler edited her version heavily, just as she had with Decca. She didn’t want to freak out her Red Blood relatives.
“You were a model?” Finn asked, impressed. “Was it fun?”
