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My mom made the sign of the cross before fixing me with a penetrating stare. “Well? Now that I’m sitting down, you’d better tell me whatever it is that’s brought you here. I’m assuming it’s bad news. The kids are all right, aren’t they?”
“Everyone’s fine,” I assured her. “It’s not bad news.”
She arched a skeptical eyebrow at me. “Then why do you look like you swallowed a bug?”
I rubbed my forehead, wincing. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re going to get mad at me when I tell you the first part of the good news.”
Her eyebrows jumped even higher as she blew across the top of her tea. “Out with it.”
“Do you remember Tess McGregor? I was friends with her in high school.”
She gave me an odd look. “Of course I remember Tess. Such a lovely, smart girl. You know her stepmother passed last year? Nice woman, God rest her soul. She made the most amazing lemon bars—I still have her recipe around here someplace. Tess’s father has dementia, apparently. They had just put him in a nursing home when Mrs. McGregor passed.” She clucked her tongue, shaking her head. “So sad.”
How the hell my mom knew all that about Tess’s family, I had no clue, but that was my mom for you. She kept up with my old high school friends better than I did.
“So the thing is…” I paused and cleared my throat. “Back in high school, Tess and I were a little more than friends for a while.” My mom’s eyes narrowed, and I ducked my head, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze. But the only way out was through. Taking a breath, I hurried through the rest of it. “Our senior year, I got Tess pregnant, and she gave the baby up for adoption.”
There was a long, dreadful silence. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I dared a glance at my mother. She set her tea mug down slowly, then folded her hands on the table as she focused a grim-faced gaze on me. She’d come close to joining a convent when she was younger, and I’d always thought she would have made one hell of a scary-ass nun.
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” she demanded, her voice pitched unnaturally low.
I swallowed, my insides churning the way they always did when I’d earned her disapproval. “Tess didn’t want me to. She didn’t want anyone to know.”
“You should have told me. I could have helped.”
“She didn’t want our help. She didn’t want anything to do with me after she found out.”
Her eyes widened. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, are you saying the poor girl went through all that alone? You weren’t there for her at all?”
“She wouldn’t let me be there for her.” The weight of my own guilt, combined with my mother’s disappointment, caused my voice to break. This was the part of the story I’d most dreaded fessing up to. Not the fact that I’d had sex, or that I’d been stupid enough to get a girl pregnant, or even that I’d kept it all a secret from my mom—although that stuff was all pretty fucking bad. The thing I was most ashamed of was that I hadn’t taken any responsibility for my own mistake. I’d let Tess carry the burden alone.
My mother’s expression softened, and she reached across the table to give my hand a squeeze. “All right. What’s done is done. Drink your tea.”
I nodded glumly and did as I was told.
She watched me in thoughtful silence. “Why are you telling me about this now?”
I swallowed and set my mug down before telling her the next part. “Tess signed up with one of those DNA testing companies, and they had this relative matching service and…well, our daughter found us.”
My mom pressed her hand to her chest. “A daughter?”
This was the good part of the news, and I couldn’t help smiling as I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Have you talked to her yet?”
“I met her yesterday for the first time.”
She crossed herself again, muttering a prayer under her breath. “What’s she like? Tell me everything.”
“Her name’s Erin, and she’s great. You’re gonna love her.”
“Erin.” A smile lit my mom’s face. “That’s a beautiful Irish name. Is she Catholic?”
“I have no idea,” I admitted with a twinge of guilt. I hadn’t even thought to ask. It made no difference to me, but my mom would be over the moon to have a Catholic grandchild, since both my sister and I had married outside the faith.
My mom’s mouth tightened fractionally—just enough to let me know my guilt wasn’t misplaced. “No matter. And your Erin must be—what? Thirty now?”
“In a few more months. Her birthday’s in October.”
